Chapter 18 Tommy #2
I shift uncomfortably. “Yeah. You know, autistic and all.”
She nods carefully. “Right. Totally forgot,” she says calmly. It’s the way she says it. Like she truly did forget. Because when Nora looks at me, she doesn’t see a guy with autism. She doesn’t see a guy related to some big shot NHL player.
She just sees me.
She smirks at me. And that makes my heart beat a little faster.
“How about we share, then?” she says.
“Huh?”
She nods to the bag of sweets I still hold. “First time for everything, right?”
Her words hit me harder than they should. I know we’re talking about pastries, but…it feels like we’re not just talking about pastries.
But I can’t tell, because she’s not being direct, and I do better when people are direct and say what they mean. I hate trying to read between the lines.
But I don’t focus on that.
I focus on her. On her body language. Russ always says that bodies have their own language and sometimes it helps in figuring out stuff. Like whether or not a smile is genuine or fake. Or if someone’s nervous, they might bite their lip.
Like Nora is doing right now…
Is she nervous? Am I making her nervous?
She smiles softly at me.
“Okay,” I say as she offers for me to sit in one of the open chairs.
I do. She snatches the bag from me and pulls out the cherry Danish first and sets the bag on the counter.
I watch as she leans her back against the counter, watch as she breaks the Danish in half.
She hands one half to me, and I take it, our fingers brushing and some of the red filling spreading on our skin.
She holds her half up as if it’s a glass.
“To trying new things,” she says with a smile. The words somehow instill a confidence in me I never knew before.
“To trying new things,” I say, and then I take my first bite.
The sugar explodes in my mouth. It’s sweet. Super sweet, but…
Not bad.
She moans in happiness, and I smile as I take another bite.
“Do you like it? she asks, and I nod.
“It’s okay, I guess,” I say and she laughs.
“You guess?”
I finish the piece in my hand and shrug, licking my fingers. I notice the way she’s looking at me. Staring at me, more like it.
Her gaze dips to my fingers and she bites her lip. “Okay, well, let’s try another one.”
I look at her as she carefully pulls out the next Danish. It’s blue, so must be the blueberry. She breaks it in half and hands it to me. Once again, our fingers glide together, smearing blue goo on one another, and she giggles. She raises her Danish piece, and I do the same before biting into it.
She moans again. “Blueberry’s my favorite,” she says, licking her lips of some blueberry filling. I watch the way her tongue flicks out, the sight making my cock twitch.
It’s definitely better than the cherry, that’s for sure, but I’m not sure how I feel about the cold, goopy texture.
I shake my head. “Sorry, the texture is weird,” I say. I offer her the rest of my piece and she looks at it. “Promise I don’t have cooties or anything,” I say with an awkward laugh, and she actually laughs. Like she thinks I’m funny.
The feeling in my stomach twists, and I can’t help but smile. She takes it from my hands gingerly, her eyelashes dark against her skin as she flutters them.
“Thanks,” she says as she nibbles on the remainder of my piece. I smile because she looks like she truly enjoys it. Like she enjoys spending time with me.
“Of course,” I say. “I’ll remember that now. Blueberry is your favorite.”
She licks her lips, and fishes out the last one. It’s bigger than the others, the sugary glaze glistening underneath the light.
I get up from the chair and step closer to her, grabbing my coffee from the counter as I take a long drink to wash the overly sweet taste in my mouth down.
She does the same, her blue gaze meeting mine with warmth and curiosity.
I lean a little closer, feeling awkward as hell, but I try to push that awkward feeling aside and focus on Nora.
On what feels right, and right now, looking at her feels right.
Focusing on this moment, the space between us—or lack thereof—feels right.
“Last one,” she says, looking up at me from underneath her lashes.
She sets her coffee down and I do the same. I’m acutely aware of how close we are. Close enough I could kiss her.
The realization that I want to kiss her right now hits me in the damn chest. She breaks off a piece of the Danish, and offers it to me, but not the whole thing. A piece.
A taste.
“Open up,” she says with a smirk, taking her bottom lip between her teeth.
I do as she asks without hesitation, keeping my gaze focused on her.
I open my mouth, sticking my tongue out, and can’t help but laugh because it feels silly as hell, but Nora only chuckles and feeds me the small piece of pastry.
I close my mouth and let the flavor and texture settle on my tongue. It’s not overly sweet like the other two were. It’s a different sort of sweet, and it’s not cold or goopy. It’s smooth. Creamy.
It’s good.
Like, really good.
I moan in delight as my eyes widen and she moves a little closer to me, closing the space as she pops a piece in her mouth and then offers me the rest.
“Here,” she says softly. I look down at her, my tastebuds alive with excitement and my dick voicing its thoughts as well.
Her gaze drifts to my mouth, and it doesn’t move. It hovers there, like she wants to ask a question, but thinks better of it.
I think it means she wants to kiss me, but I’m not sure.
But I guess there’s only one way to find out, right?
“Nora,” I breathe, softly.
“Yes, Tommy?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
She licks her lips, her gaze flashing to mine. “Anything.”
I look at her, my stomach doing somersaults as my heart races in my chest, my dick twitching of its own accord. My head feels a little fuzzy, and I’m acutely aware of how tight my jeans waistband is and that I’m starting to sweat.
But I try to push the sensory things aside and focus on what I need to know.
“Do you…” I swallow hard, knowing the words that follow will never be able to be stuffed back in place once they’re out. “Do you want me to kiss you? Right now, I mean? I mean, you’re staring at my mouth, and I kind of think you’re flirting with me, but I’m not sure and…”
Nora smiles, her cheeks pinkening up once more. “Wow, that is um…”
I frown, worried I’ve misspoke or misread the situation—after all, it wouldn’t be the first time—but she looks back up at me. I run a hand through my hair as I tense.
“Sorry, I just…” I look at her, and the words come easily. Too easily. “I would rather ask you directly because otherwise if I kiss you, and you don’t want that, I’ll feel like an asshole.” My cheeks heat. “And I’m not necessarily experienced with this sort of thing, so—”
I feel her hand gently rest on my hip, see the warmth in her eyes as she holds my gaze.
It’s silent, save for the sound of passing cars outside and the heavy thump of my heart.
“Yes, Tommy,” she says carefully. “I do. Want to kiss you.” She says the words like they’re delicate.
I hear them, and then I feel them.
I do. Want to kiss you.
Maybe it’s the words or the strange warmth between us. But whatever it is, I don’t fight it. I lean in just the slightest, bridging that gap between us. I grace my lips over hers, so soft and faint because I can’t be sure this is real. That what’s happening between us is real.
But the minute I feel her lips, something else takes over. I settle my hand on her hip, and her body leans into me with ease, her hand settling on my hip, and she presses her lips against mine with a gentle pressure, and my body overrides my brain.
I move my lips slowly against hers, feeling them. Tasting them.
She tastes like blueberries and cherries and sweet sugary cream, and I like it.
I like a whole hell of a lot.
So I kiss her a little harder. A little deeper. And when she opens her mouth, I don’t hesitate to slide my tongue inside. Slowly.
Her tongue against mine is warm and smooth, and I let out a soft, contented moan into her mouth as her hand finds my chest and rests there. She doesn’t push me away or tell me stop. She opens for me like a flower in bloom, and I feel my lips turn up in the corner as she kisses me back.
My cock presses against my jeans, hard and aching, but I ignore it. Because this…
Kissing Nora…
It’s so much better than I ever thought it would be.
“Ahem,” a voice interrupts, and I stiffen in panic.
I push away from Nora, but my hand rests on her hip still, and she looks over her shoulder. I recognize the woman in the doorway as her friend. Abby.
She’s looking at the two of us like she’s just seen a damn ghost, and maybe that’s fair. I feel like a ghost right now. I don’t even think I can feel my body except for the buzzing in my lips from where Nora kissed me.
“Morning, Tommy,” Abby says with a smirk.
“M-morning.”
Abby looks to Nora, then to the coffee and empty paper bag. She narrows her eyes at me, then at Nora. “I’m going to whip up Mallory’s color. You know, your ten forty-five.”
“Right!” Nora says, carefully stepping back from me. I hate the emptiness I feel when she does so.
Abby looks between us and says, “You’ve got a couple minutes, before she shows.”
And then she heads straight back to the back room, brushing past us with a smile.
I run a hand through my hair, feeling more on edge than ever.
I just kissed Nora! And she kissed me back!
“Sorry,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat.
“Don’t be sorry,” she says with a warm smile. “Never apologize for what feels right, Tommy.”
“It did, right?” I ask, my voice tinged in worry. “I mean…that was…okay?”
She nods. “Yes.”
Feeling emboldened by her words, I look to the door then back at her.
“Would you…” I start, sucking in a breath. “Are you free? Tomorrow, I mean?”
She blinks, looking at me in surprise. “I work until four tomorrow, but I was planning on just going to my brother’s and staying in.” She shakes her head. “Without a bottle of wine…”
I laugh and she does too.
“Noted. Well, maybe…we could, I don’t know…grab dinner somewhere? I have a game at six, but after that?”
She smiles sweetly. “Are you asking me on a date, Tommy?”
I think about her question and don’t hesitate when I answer, “Yes, Nora. I am.” I stand tall, reeling off the high of the most perfect kiss I’ve ever felt.
Her smile is my weakness.
“Okay,” she says softly. “I will go on a date with you. Not because you brought me breakfast, though.” She chuckles.
“Did the breakfast help?” I ask, leaning into her space, giddy from the excitement that I kissed her and asked her on a date and she said yes.
She said yes!
“Only a little.”
I smirk at her as she leans into my space, glancing up at me from beneath her eyelashes again.
“Maybe I just want an excuse to kiss you again,” she whispers.
I don’t hesitate when I lean down to kiss her again, just like she says.
And when I break away, I whisper to her, “You don’t need an excuse, Nora. You can kiss me anytime you want.”
Her sigh makes my insides flush with heat.
I grab my coffee and give her a smile as I say goodbye, the jingle of the door sounding like a bell of victory.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel victorious.
Because tomorrow night, I have a date with the woman of my dreams.