18. Lolly
eighteen
Lolly
I let myself consider his words, wondering why he thinks I won’t enjoy being around him.
Where did he learn that?
Who told him he wasn’t enough?
He finally sits back into the seat as we head down the narrow road away from campus. I fight back a smile as I see him fidgeting in my periphery. It’s cute how flustered he is.
I turn the sound system volume up.
“You want to be DJ?”
“Wh-what?” He looks at me, eyebrows raised in confusion.
“Do you want to pick the music?”
“Oh,” he says.
I wait, smiling when he pauses a beat too long. It’s not a hard question but I can sense those wheels turning.
“No, it’s fine. We can listen to your playlist, no problem.”
“Have it your way, green eyes. I’ll be the chauffeur and the DJ. You just enjoy the ride.” I wink at him. God, I love those glasses.
His cheeks flush and he looks away, his gaze centered on the view from the passenger window.
Let Down by Radiohead comes on and I smile again, unable to stop the madness that is me around this man.
“So, are you at all curious about where I’m taking you or do you have some kidnapping kink I don’t know about?”
He laughs, “I’m definitely curious but kind of want it to be a surprise if that makes sense?”
“Of course it does.” I fight the urge to touch him. To put my hand on his thigh. I don’t know what he’s comfortable with and for once in my life I’m too fucking nervous to ask.
“I can guarantee the food will be good, but I don’t know you well enough to know if the destination is something you’ll be into.” I just let the truth slide off my tongue like it’s nothing. He deserves it.
“I can appreciate a risk-taker,” he says.
I hear the small smile on his lips. The apprehension in his voice lessened now.
“Yeah, I hope you’re prepared because it’s going to be a wild night,” I joke.
I pull into the parking lot in front of a strip mall, my favorite food truck parked out front.
“No way! I fucking love this place!”
“Me too. Their street tacos are the best in town.”
He smiles and looks at me, excitement in his eyes. “Right?” He pauses. “But, the important question here is: flour or corn tortillas?”
His face is serious now. Mouth a straight line and eyes laser-focused as he waits for my reply.
“Corn. Hands down. Every time.”
“That is correct. You may pass go, you may collect two hundred dollars.”
I chuckle and shake my head. Fucking goofball. “Come on, dinner’s on me.”
We grab our order and head back to the car. He beats me to his door this time and I laugh as he side-eyes me, letting me know he’s won.
The sun sets in thirty minutes and we’re about five miles from the parking spot. We’re cutting it close, but as long as traffic minds its fucking business, we’ll make it in time.
I park the car and grab the food and drinks. “We’re here.”
He looks at me, brows twisted in confusion as he takes in our surroundings. “Um, okay. But, where exactly is ‘here’?”
“Just trust me,” I say as I open his door and wait for him. He’s so fucking cute in his tshirt and jeans that I have to force myself to look away.
I clear my throat, “Follow me.”
The wooded area is empty, no cars busying the parking lot. That rarely happens at this time of night so I send a quick nod of gratitude to the universe.
The forest floor cracks beneath our feet as we head up the trailhead. The path is easy, padded down by hikers and sight-seers. Shards of warm sunlight brighten our way. The quiet roar of insects and leaves in the wind a calming balm.
“It’s nice out here,” he says, voice quiet. Like he doesn’t want to disturb the peaceful ambiance.
“It is,” I smile.
As we get closer to the pinnacle of the mountain, I slow down and offer him my free hand.
He glances around, like he’s afraid the birds might judge him, and then brings his gaze to mine. A warm smile from him sparks something deep in my chest as he takes my hand and follows me.
We reach the lookout point a few minutes later, his hand still firmly clasped in mine.
His eyes widen, “It’s incredible,” he whispers. Earnest awe in his voice.
I can’t look away. He’s beautiful in his wonder. “It is,” I reply, not breaking my eyes from him.
I force my gaze to the view of the mountainside and let go of his hand, missing his touch immediately. The expansive rolling peaks of brilliant greens under the orange glow of the setting sun reminds me why I bother to grow—to learn. To become a better version of myself today than I was yesterday.
I pull a blanket out of my backpack and throw it near the cliff’s edge before placing the bag of food down and taking a seat.
He’s still standing, soaking it all in, a small smile on his lips.
“I love sunsets,” he says reverently.
“I do too,” I muse.
I watch him for a little while longer, enjoying the worry-free expression on his face. I take in the relaxed slope of his shoulders, that barely-there smile and those brilliant, bright eyes.
“Will you, um, have dinner with me?” I ask. What the hell was that? I’m never this unsure of myself but something about him makes me feel like a teenager with a crush.
He looks at me, noticing the blanket and food for the first time, “Oh, I’m so sorry,” he shakes his head in disbelief.
“This is, um,” his cheeks redden as he brings one hand to the back of his neck, “this is amazing.” The flush creeps up to his ears as he eyes the extra space on the blanket before awkwardly taking a seat next to me.
I hand him a plate, “So, tell me something true, green eyes.”
“What do you mean?” His eyes squint, perplexed at the question.
“I want to know something about who you are.”
He sets his plate down hesitantly, “I, um,” he takes in a breath, “I need a minute to let that simmer.”
“Take your time, I’m in no rush.” I take a bite of my food, looking out at the expanse of the Ozark Mountains.
The deep orange has set aside room for an array of reds and touches of pink that spread across the vast sky.
It’s breathtaking. I glance his way and find that he, too, is watching the sun turn in for the night.
“I love the ocean. The smell of the salt in the air, a cool breeze while the waves crash against the shore.” He smiles, then a huff of laughter escapes his lips. “But I fucking hate sand so much the thought of it touching me makes me sweat.”
My smile splits my face at the look of disgust he’s wearing. “That’s perfect,” I say through laughter that spills from an honest place. A vulnerable place I wasn’t ready to tap into.
“Seriously,” he continues, “When I was a kid I got sand in my fucking swim trunks and had a complete meltdown until I got back to the condo and was able to shower. It was the worst kind of torture. My mom wouldn’t let me leave the beach for another thirty minutes and I was certain it was going to kill me. ”
His half-cocked smile makes his eyes glint with a vulnerable child-like playfulness I haven’t seen yet.
“I haven’t set foot on a beach since,” he laughs.
“Noted.” I reply. “If we ever go to the ocean I’ll be sure it’s somewhere like Glass Beach or Aruba where we can enjoy it without the sand.”
He swallows thickly and then takes a sip of his bottled Coke. I watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.
“What about you?” He’s still watching the sky, but I feel his curiosity somehow. His interest not hiding behind any pretense.
Thoughts run rampant through my mind as I try to choose one that he might appreciate. One that isn’t too transparent.
“I love musicals.”
He turns to look at me, brows raised.
“Broadway plays are one of my favorite things in the world.”
“I wasn’t expecting that,” he says, a soft smile on his face.
“When I was young, my parents would listen to soundtracks from musicals and plays and I just never grew out of it. I don’t think I’ve missed a single show in the past ten years.” I bring my drink to my lips as I remember the last one I dragged Jay to.
His gaze drops to my smiling lips and his eyes brighten. “I’ve never seen one, but I’d like to.” He looks away again, that warm smile still visible.
“I’ll take you to one. You might fuck around and enjoy yourself,” I tease.
His laugh is warm, and it settles over me like a song.
I take another drink to hide my smile.
We sit in silence, watching the world change from warm orange and red hues to brilliant purples and blues. The quiet between us is light and comfortable, never heavy or foreboding.
“Thank you,” he says, breaking the stillness.
I turn to face him, “For what?”
“For,” he gestures toward the blanket and then the view, “for this.”
“Anytime, green eyes ” I say. And I mean it.
I grab our trash, making sure we leave nothing behind. “We should head back before it gets much darker,” I admit reluctantly.
A look of disappointment flashes across his face, “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m clumsy as fuck and that trail could be disastrous in the dark.”
We get to our feet and I place the blanket and trash in my backpack, swinging it over my shoulders before turning to face him. “I’m glad you came.”
“Me too,” he says before looking at the ground between us.
I take a step toward him, leaving enough space for him to guide my next move.
His eyes meet mine and he smiles sheepishly, looking at me through those long lashes.
He’s so fucking pretty. He’d probably hate it if I told him that.
I take the last step, his mouth now only inches away from mine as I give him time to decide what he wants.
“I thought you said we needed to head back,” he breathes against my mouth.
“I did, but we have a few minutes to spare.” I wait, watching him closely. “Unless you’re in a hurry to get back,” I say against his lips, a featherlight touch I’m not certain he can feel.
“No, no hurry.”
“So, you’ll wait with me?”
“Yes.” It’s barely a whisper but the barest touch of his lips is more than I can take.
I press my lips to his.
Slow.
Honest.
When I realize he hasn’t moved, I can’t help but laugh.
He smiles, a gentle huff escaping as he looks up at me, cheeks red and lips parted.
“Sorry,” he whispers, fisting his shirt as he looks at the ground.
“Don’t be.”