Chapter Ten
Declan
Friday came after what felt like forever, and I arrived at the park with a few minutes to spare.
There’s nothing more humiliating than being tardy for a first date.
It was a pleasant spring evening at sixty-eight degrees, with a mild breeze and clear skies.
Stars began to show through the fading blue sky, and the moon was nearly full.
I couldn’t have asked for better conditions.
As I took a seat on the bench between the playground and parking lot, I wondered what she would look like.
I only had one unusual experience with her, and I didn’t know what to expect. Would she even show?
A lot of preparation went into that night.
I shined my new shoes and ironed my shirt and slacks.
Nerves got the better of me, however. At first, I put on some cologne, but when I stepped out of the bathroom, my brother gagged like I had fumes coming from my pores.
Worried my date would have a similar reaction, I wet a facecloth and scrubbed the areas I had previously sprayed to get the excess scent off me.
Only, then I couldn’t smell anything beyond my deodorant.
So, I sprayed a little more cologne back on. I was hopeless.
The hands on my watch indicated it was time, so I walked back to my car, took a long breath in, and told myself everything was going to be fine.
Much like a swimmer diving into the pool at the exact moment the starter pistol fires, I let all the air in my lungs free and heard faint footsteps on the pavement behind me.
Trying not to seem too eager, I slowly made an about face, and while my eyes adjusted to the streetlights, I saw her silhouette just beyond the swings, moving with effortless grace.
Watching each step as she approached filled me with that same fire from the day we met, until we were standing face to face, speaking only through our eyes.
We looked at one another from head to toe.
She wore a thin-strapped black dress that flowed freely while still letting her physique shine.
I made a mental note of what might have been her official style.
Her matching shoes had small heels, accentuating the curve of her perfect calves.
I wondered if she also made a trip to a store and endured extensive embarrassment to impress me, or if it just came naturally.
She didn’t seem rattled in the slightest. I could tell by the glint in her eye and the flirtatious smile stretched between her ears that she knew she looked stunning.
Meanwhile, I stood with my jaw on the ground in amazement.
“Wow,” I eventually blurted out, sounding just as dumb as the moment we met.
“Hi,” she replied with a feisty tone, and I swear my heart nearly stopped.
“Black,” I announced without any context at first. “It’s, uh, my favorite.”
Her smile grew for a moment, and she opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself. Instead, leaning in close, her mouth pressed lightly to my ear.
“I guess we have something in common,” she hummed. “You and I.”
A shiver rushed across my body as her warm breath glided along my neck.
I let the feeling settle in for a moment before saying anything else.
Doctors might attribute what I felt to age and gender, but it didn’t feel like teenage hormones.
Either way, I felt like I was in a dream, which was concerning given my history, but I didn’t care.
I wanted to stay in that moment for as long as possible.
“So,” I asked, trying to spark a yearning in return, “where would you like to go?” I had no idea what she liked, or I’d have made a suggestion.
“I was thinking,” she said, undressing me with her eyes while I tried to channel my inner debonair, “dinner’s a good place to start.” The look on her face said she had something else in mind, and my palms began sweating with anticipation.
“Sounds good to me,” I said. “Have anything particular in mind?” I could see she knew what she wanted.
“I’ve heard wonderful things about the night out on the pier this time of year,” she replied, trying to be helpful. “But I’ve never been.”
I was surprised. Living here had certain requirements. Enjoying the pier was a significant one. The fact that my date didn’t, meant I would be the first to share the experience with her. This night had all the makings of a fantasy, and I hoped it wasn’t all in my head.
The ride to the coast crawled by in awkward silence. Though my co-pilot spent most of it gazing at me, my nerves kept me from spouting anything clever. How was I supposed to break the ice?
You pick up guys in office parking lots often? Have you always been a walking smoke show, or were you an ugly kid and now you’re really emerging from your cocoon? Ever had sex?
Yeah, right. Any of those would have scored big brownie points with my date.
Moron.
It was hard to see much from the highway and local surface streets, but when I turned into the parking area, her eyes grew wide at the sight of the bright lights glowing against the backdrop of dark waters and the clear night sky.
She leaned forward in her seat, filled with excitement as she looked out through the windshield.
Once I turned the Dodge off, I ran around to the passenger side, racing to open the door before her.
Another of my grandfather’s favorite lectures includes hammering the need to treat women like royalty into my head.
Of course, I didn’t understand what he meant then, but he said it would go a long way.
And once I met her, I finally understood what the old man meant.
Situated at the end of the pier was the Salty Sailor—a beloved seafood restaurant with a monopoly on the best view on the seacoast. Anyone who wanted to take cute pictures by a railing over the water had to go through Salty’s to get there. But the wait for seating was far too long.
“You take all your dates here?” She barely got it out before bursting into a fit of laughter.
“Totally,” I replied through my own chuckles. “The guy at the podium definitely knows me by name.’
Forced to call an audible, I reflexively grab my date by the hand and make for the exit, tugging her along.
“Now, where are we going?” she blurts between breaths rushed by my quickened pace.
It’s not far. Nothing is on the pier. A few seconds in the direction of the carnival rides and we’re standing in line for a mobile food vendor.
“How do you feel about street meat?” I ask with hurried breath.
The air between us was fresh with coastal warmth, and I felt an invisible force pulling our bodies close together. We were still practically strangers, but we were exactly where fate wanted us. If her eyes blinked while I lost myself in them, I didn’t notice. I was mesmerized. Smitten. Transfixed.
“I’ll try just about anything,” she jested. “What’s good here?”
“I have no idea, haha.” The giggling had become viral.
“They don’t know you by name here then?” She failed to contain herself any more than I did.
I still couldn't believe she agreed to go out with me. I hoped she was having a good time. We carried on joking and convulsing, laughing non-stop. I finally convinced myself that either I was the funniest man alive, or she actually liked me.
“I’m having a great time,” I stated innocuously to allow me to quickly continue before overthinking.
“I don’t know why, but I feel like we’re supposed to be here, together.
Something about you, when we first saw each other outside of Dr. Petrovic’s office, told me that you were right for me.
Not to mention.” I took a breath. “You’re, well, you know—”
“Know what?” she replied with a shitty rhetorical grin.
“I think you know what I mean,” I boast with a sly smirk. “But you’re gonna make me say it, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she protests, but a feisty little snigger slipped from between her lips, and it gave me the best chills.
“You’re gorgeous.” The words finally came out. It was easier to admit than I expected. After all, I never thought I’d be on a date with a girl who, in my mind, defined sexuality. A girl way out of my league.
She took a step closer to me, leaning in toward my shoulder. Fire radiated off her skin, filling my chest with broiling heat.
“Was that so hard?” she whispered her question in my ear, then lingered for a second.
“We should ride the Ferris wheel!” she shouted, still inches from my face.
“Oh, sorry,” she added, stepping back from deafening distance.
Her eyes sparkled with excitement, like a kid who’d just found an empty milk glass and half-eaten cookies on Christmas morning.
The pier was infamous for its massive wheel, with round umbrella-covered tubs and flashing lights.
It sat on the edge of its own custom platform, allowing patrons to ride to the top for breathtaking views of the town’s lights, the endless beach, and the starry night sky.
There was one tiny, insignificant, barely even present obstacle.
In addition to needles, I was terrified of one thing.
I’d do almost anything to avoid both at any cost, but I could tell by the look in her eyes she planned to drag me onto that damn thing, and there was no chance I was leaving her side. Not on that night.
“I suppose this would be a bad time to tell you I’m scared of heights,” I half objected in a pleading tone, hoping she’d take pity on me and suggest a nice stroll through the sand.
All girls long for walks on the beach, right?
Without acknowledging my claimed fear, she casually snatched me by the wrist. It was my turn to be walked like a dog to our next stop.
“Don’t worry sweetie,” she offered me encouragement while I begrudgingly paid for two tickets to ride the death wheel. “I’ll keep you safe. You won’t even know we’re up there.”