Jimmy came around and opened my door, sending a waft of summer humidity to wrap around me. I lifted my hair off my shoulders as we headed to the restaurant, feeling Jimmy’s gaze sweep the curve of my neck and my breasts.
“See something you like?” I teased.
He looked away and held open the door to the diner for me. The hostess at the front greeted us.
“Two? Right this way.”
She seated us at a wide table that made me feel like Jimmy and I were separated by a mile of sticky Formica.
“Cozy,” I said, as we slid into our seats on opposite sides.
A tired-looking waitress came by. “Drinks?”
“Chocolate milkshake, please,” I said. “Extra cherries.”
She turned to Jimmy. “For you, sugar?”
“A Coke.”
I opened the menu. “God, I want one of everything,” I said. “It’s been forever since I’ve eaten a burger and fries. I mean, I know that’s not true, but I feel like my entire life is a menu and I’m starving. For food, music, art, for experiences, for sex…”
Jimmy shifted in his chair and toyed madly with his fork.
“Can’t help it,” I said. “I’ve missed so much.”
The waitress returned with his soda and my shake. I took a long, deep pull from the straw and moaned as cold chocolate deliciousness poured into my mouth.
“Oh my God, brain freeze,” I said with a laugh. “But so worth it.”
I plucked a cherry and sucked the whipped cream off before biting it from the stem. Across the table, Jimmy stared, eyes dark under furrowed brows, fists clenched on the table.
“What?” I said.
“N-Nothing.”
I leaned over the table. “Your kind eyes don’t look so kind right now. You look as if you have some thoughts about what else I might be able to do with my tongue.”
Jimmy shifted in his seat. “You’re not making it difficult.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No, but—”
“But what?”
When he didn’t answer, I tossed my cherry stem on the table and sat back with a frustrated sigh.
“No bullshit, James. What’s going on? Why haven’t you tried to kiss me when we were practically sucking each other’s faces off in the parking lot yesterday morning.” I leaned forward again. “Even if the answer breaks my heart, I’d rather live with that pain than none at all. So I’m going to ask. Do you care for me, Jimmy?”
“Yeah, I do,” he said, meeting my gaze. “But I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“So you mentioned,” I said with a wince. “Why?”
“I have to be careful.”
“Because you don’t trust me to know what I want?”
“Something like that.”