Chapter Four
Paige
Tiffany said it best: Could’ve Been.
What could have been? I have asked myself this every ten minutes or so since Pierce kissed me two days ago. Could we have kissed more? Would I have told him he was the first man I ever kissed that way? Could he have sworn his undying devotion to me till the end of time? I like to think so.
His comment about feeding me struck a nerve he has no idea even exists. Watching him cook, eating his food is almost an aphrodisiac. After he kissed me, eating with him was almost intimate. I let my own beliefs about my size, my weight, my too big thighs or too soft tummy ruin the night. I got no more kisses and zero indication he would ever want to kiss me again.
Sighing as I cuddle with Frenchie while we watch Murder, She Wrote, I consider a dozen would have, could have, should haves. None of them end with me sitting in the darkness of my new place, eating Baskin Robins and watching bad murder mysteries. Oh, that’s not fair—I love Jessica Fletcher.
“Pierce hated the kiss. I was not at my best. No time to prepare. How could I know a hot dude was going to kiss me before feeding me the best chicken and waffles of my life?”
Frenchie stares at me for a moment before she meows, as if agreeing. Laughing at the ridiculous argument, I snuggle deeper in the battered couch I bought at Goodwill yesterday. Getting it in here was a hassle—if I had nerve, I could’ve used the excuse to go talk Pierce.
“Ask him why he kissed me then never touched me again. Or like, why hasn’t he called or invited me over to his place again? Doesn’t he know I am eating awful takeout food to survive? It’s downright grody, Frenchie.”
Another meow is all I get from her. Smiling, I shake my head at myself. I have gone twenty-four years without a man in my life. Relations do not count dude. Just because Pierce is a total babe, cooks delish’ food, and might be the sweetest man I ever met, doesn’t mean he is it for me.
“What if no one is it for me?”
Lying in the afternoon sun, my skin sticky from the heat, I sigh once again. Mother always said I air on the dramatic side. A trait passed on from my grandmother, the ultimate drama queen. Lying on the couch, I think of her and how she built a life she could be proud of all on her own.
“I can do it too,” I tell myself and Frenchie. “Decide what I want to do, who I want to be, and do it.”
Recalling Pierce’s comment about us having choices, I agree. Giving Frenchie one last squeeze, I open a can of tuna for her, setting it out on my mother’s fine China. Nothing but the best for my little princess.
Taking a long, hot shower, I scrub all my bits, wash and condition my hair, then set to making myself presentable. Curling my hair, I feather my bangs, not too high or too stiff with Aqua-Net. Doing a light dusting of makeup, I finish the look off with a block-colored jacket and a form fitting dress that makes me feel professional and put together.
“Now, go impress someone and get your life started, girlfriend!”
Heading out, I make the rounds of Pine Grove, cranking the latest Heart album. Music is my first love, even before good food. On my long drive through my new home, I am struck by inspiration. Similar to my mother before me, teaching has always called to me. It was the way I figured I could make some sort of impact on the world.
Slowing down at the school, I take a deep breath. It is a small town, and I am sure very close-knit. I have no idea if they need a teacher or if my lack of experience will hurt. All I can hope is they will be willing to give me a chance. That I can prove my passion will be enough to make a difference.
Going inside with my shoulders squared, my head high, I try to appear prepared. Determined. Finding my way to the front desk, I wonder if I am fooling anyone but myself. Waiting to speak with the receptionist, I see some postings on a bulletin board, and I smile to myself.
“I will take that,” I say out loud, snatching the “now hiring music teacher” sign off the board. “Calling this a sign from somewhere.”
“Hi, how can I help you darling?”
Smiling at the receptionist, I slide the paper across the counter. “You can tell me how to become your next music teacher.”
Two hours of the best conversation with the principal Valerie—my new boss, ahem—later, I walk out with my head still held high. It feels as if I am living a Katrina and The Waves song in real time. Walking On Sunshine! I cannot wait to start a new position teaching music to the kids in Pine Grove.
Starting a new life here is going better than I expected. Coming here was me taking a chance on my ability to do this on my own. To make choices for myself. Now I have a place, one I am making my own a little at a time. Now a new career starts next semester, just a few weeks away.
Could I have something else—maybe a hot cook for a boyfriend?
Bursting with a punch of bravery, I race towards the diner. Parking out front, I fuss with my hair, put fresh gloss on my pink lips, and pep talk myself into believing I can do this. I can do this. He said it himself, didn’t he? There is nothing stopping you but yourself, Pierce said—and I want to believe that. I aspire to be bold enough to let nothing stop me.
Storming inside with my head full of his words, of how nice that kiss was and how badly I want more, I stop short inside. Just the colorful waitress and Pierce stand there, looking back at me. He seems shocked to see me. Why would he be? I gave him my number, I kissed him back, I took that sweet kitten, and we named her together.
Before I can say a word, the colorful waitress pulls a vanishing act. Pulsing with bravado, with drops of hope for a new me, a new life, I cross the distance between us. Grabbing hold of his apron, I yank him across the counter, slamming my mouth against his. Letting out the sexiest sound I have ever heard, his hands circle my waist, and he yanks me over the counter.
Tilting his head, he licks my mouth, and I whimper as my knees give out. His arm bands across my back to hold me, his tongue lashing mine until I am breathless. His other hand lifts to tangle in my hair, pulling gently. This sends a bolt of pleasure right between my legs and I cry out as he pulls back.
“Jesus, baby,” he hums against my lips, licking them again. “Never tasted anything as good as you taste, Paige,” he grumbles roughly, my thighs rubbing at the dirty thoughts those words fill my head with.
“Why didn’t you kiss me again, Pierce? Or call me?”
“Because...I... I thought I screwed up. Thought you didn’t want me to kiss you, Paige.”
Staring up at him from beneath my lashes, I smile. “I do. Kiss me again, Pierce.”
His blue eyes, the color of the ocean I decide, light up. Sliding his hands into my hair, he pulls tightly, angling my head just so. Lowering his head, his eyes close as he brushes his mouth against mine. It is sweet, soft, slow, just how I think he would make love to me. Gentle touches, lingering kisses, taking his time with me the way I want him to.
“I would kiss you all damn day if I could, Paige. I can’t because,” he glances past me, clearing his throat. “The Sherriff is waiting for his lunch. Might throw me in a cell if I go on kissing you the way I want to, baby.”
Flushing hot, I turn to see a stout man in a dark blue uniform watching us. No way man, we’ve been caught! Taking a hat off his head, the sheriff cocks his head as if to say, “are you serious?”. Giggling, I back away fast, wiping at my lips we break apart.
“Not so fast,” Pierce states with a chuckle, pulling me back. “Go out with me tonight, Paige. I will take you out somewhere nice.”
“Yes, I want to see you tonight. We don”t have to go anywhere. I just want to see you,” pushing closer, I whisper against his mouth, hoping no one else can hear. “Might just let you kiss me the way you want to.”
Pierce laughs and nods, letting me go at last. Clearing my throat, I playfully salute the officer before I round the counter. The colorful waitress, Imelda her tag says, winks at me as she passes, making my face flush. Like, how much of a show must we have just put on?
Almost skipping outside, I fall into my little pink bug with a thud. Laughing, I crank the radio as I pull from the diner, my lips still burning. It has been a long time since I have felt so good. If I have to think about it, I admit I might have never felt this good before.
Growing up with all the advantages, all the choices I had, makes me appreciate this. I am still figuring myself out, still finding where I belong and what I want out of life. Things I never took time to question before. Now I am wondering what kind of teacher I will, what kind of woman I will become, and now even what kind of girlfriend or lover I will be.
“I never really cared until I met you,” I sing along with the Heart song humming through the speakers. “And now it chills me to the bone!”
This song is the soundtrack for my trip through Pine Grove. I am in good spirits, thrilled about my new life here, and anxious to see Pierce tonight. At my new place, I dance around to a mix of Heart and Tiffany songs as I prepare for my big night. I have never been so excited for a date.
Considering my last date was going with my best friend’s cousin to junior prom, I have little experience. Being a bit sheltered might have saved me from some heartache but it also kept me from living my own life. Getting away from my family was not because I don’t love them or think they love me. It was simply because it was time for me to break free of my shelters.
This date with Pierce might lead to nothing. He could be a jerk. We could be like total opposites who have nothing to talk about. He sure doesn’t kiss like a jerk. Plus, we had plenty to talk about the night he fed me and Frenchie. It could be the start of a great love affair—or nothing at all.
All that matters is I have a date with a guy who kisses like a dream, cooks like a magician, and looks like a rockstar.