Elevator Kiss

Slowly, she met my eyes and gave the shallowest nod. “I’ve loved Amzaz brand candy forever. My grandma bought it for me anytime we went to the gas station together. I have so many ideas. Starting when you mentioned it, I drew up a design concept for them.” She rolled her eyes. “But it’s just as well I’m stuck in formatting. My ideas for Amzaz are all probably derivative like everything else I do.”

Not a chance. “Do you have them with you?”

She pressed the phone screen to her chest.

I huffed. “It’s not like I’m going to steal them. Or worse—post them on Awful Art in Thrift Shops.” I gurgled a stupid laugh. My jokes were as bad as Parley’s.

“The files are pretty big. It’ll use up my data to send them. Can I email them to you when we get back to the hotel?”

“Sure. I’d love to show the other execs.”

“For real?”

“For real.” In fact, all of this was feeling like it was for real. Whether or not Amanda had declared herself an actress last night, everything today had been a hundred percent real. At least for me, and if I weren’t blind, she’d felt real things, too.

A red bird landed on a tree branch beside us. When it chirped a little song, it was like permission to put my arm around her. She rested her head on my shoulder, the scent of her florist-shop shampoo rising and catching my thoughts and turning them into a shooting arrow with precise aim—pointing toward one thing: I had to kiss this woman.

“Amanda?”

At my question, she turned toward me. “Yes, VelvetElvis?” One side of her mouth lifted a fraction of an inch, capturing my full attention and desire.

“I won’t mock your fandom if you won’t mock mine.” I leaned in and placed a kiss on that upturned corner, then I worked my way along her cheek, up the side of her temple, across her brow. Each series elicited the sigh I was working for, and soon I’d turned to face her, pulling her into my arms. A kiss for this delicate pink eyelid. Another for that one. One kiss for the blush of her cheekbone. But I couldn’t go slow for long.

Kissing Amanda was like being on Navron again, thundering around the track at full gallop. Her touch was the starting gun, her kiss the straightaway, her pressing against me the curves of the track. I couldn’t go fast enough. I couldn’t get enough of her. We were winning everything. Ever.

Luckily for the viewing public of the park, she pulled back, her green eyes glossy, her lips redder than usual. I did that to her.

“Good acting.” I brushed my thumb across her lower lip, which looked a little plumper than when I’d last seen it.

“None of that was an act.” Dreamy-eyed, she said, “When I kiss you, I feel like I’m inside a song.”

Oh, yeah. Things were definitely getting real.