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No Tomorrow

Page 12

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He grabs the hand that’s holding my cone and brings it to his lips. I watch in fascination as he licks my ice cream, without asking, without hesitation, and with his smoldering eyes locked right onto mine.

“I wanted to taste yours,” he says, licking the pink raspberry from his lips.

I blink and swallow. “I-I don’t mind,” I reply, running my tongue over the spot he just had his mouth on. Our eyes meet as he licks his ice cream. It’s a kiss that isn’t a kiss.

An erotic shock jolts through me. My germ radar has gone dark.

Finished with the last bite of his cone, Evan picks up Acorn’s empty dish and throws it in the trash, then walks me back to the tree where he found me.

“It’s probably time for me to get going.” I smile up at him. “Thanks for the ice cream. And for singing for me. I really loved it. If it was on a cassette, I’d probably play it over and over and over again.”

Stepping closer, he pushes my hair behind my ear and holds his hand there with his thumb on my cheek. I can smell tobacco on his hand but it’s not unpleasant. My breathing stills at the uninvited touch. My head screams at me to slap his hand away, but every other part of me savors the intimacy, the glimmer of desire in his eyes, and the sudden heat between my thighs.

“Tonight when you’re sleeping with your cat in the place you only like sometimes, close your eyes and you’ll hear the music. I promise.”

He pulls away. Walks away. Every time I watch him walk away, I’m struck by a sudden fear that I’ll never see him again. The feeling disappears just as quickly as it comes.

I’m still so buzzed by my unexpected reaction to his touch that I walk in a daze to my office building, only to realize my car isn’t there and is parked about six blocks over in the other direction.

Damn!

His lyrics are still in my head as I trek toward my car, as I cook dinner with my mom that night, and later when I’m in my bed and close my eyes to drift off to sleep.

And then there was you,

Slayer of my heart,

The one I would destroy,

Keeper of my heart.

Chapter Four

I’ve glanced at the digital clock sitting on my desk so many times this morning I’ve practically given myself a seizure. My heart pitter pats with every minute that brings me closer to noon.

What the hell is wrong with me? This isn’t like me at all. I’ve never felt butterflies over a guy before—not even when I started dating Josh—my first, only, and now ex-boyfriend.

That was different, though. Josh and I were strictly friends with no feelings for each other whatsoever for two years, until one day we were having lunch and out of nowhere he suggested that we date. I stopped chewing my corned beef sandwich and stared at him for a few seconds, then agreed.

And that was it. We added kissing and groping to what we were already doing, and it worked. For almost a year. Then he went off to college a few hours away, and we slowly drifted apart. We never even slept together. We fooled around a lot, but every time things started to go further, we both froze. Not purposely… It just happened, like a reaction we couldn’t control.

Josh is a sweet, easy-going guy. He never pushed or coaxed me. The crazy, giddy, I want-to-kiss-you-nonstop-and-rip-your-clothes-off passion wasn’t there. I used to think those types of feelings weren’t important as long as two people had trust and care for each other. And we had that. He made me laugh and he made me feel safe and comfortable. But now, after watching Titanic a bajillion times, I’m wondering why I didn’t feel more with Josh. Did I unknowingly sacrifice chemistry and passion for comfort?

What am I feeling around Evan, anyway? It’s not butterflies, exactly. It’s more like fireflies. A spark of light and heat fading into the dark. A quick feeling of ooh that I can’t wait to feel again.

It’s unsettling, but even more than that, exhilarating.

When noon finally arrives, I head over to the park, and the absence of acoustic music hits me hard as I walk through the iron gates. I quicken my steps and strain to hear his guitar, but the air is populated with chirping birds and people talking as they walk by. Evan and Acorn aren’t in their usual spot at the brick wall. As I sit on my bench, a pang twitches in my chest. I was hoping to see him today. I desperately wanted to feel that surge of strange excitement when he smiles at me. I wanted to hear what songs he would play today and guess which ones were his own.


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