6. LEARNING YOUR SMILE
LEARNING YOUR SMILE
The restaurant Kenneth brought me to is not at all what I expected from him.
I thought for a moment he’d bring me somewhere fancy.
It’s obvious he has plenty of money, especially with how popular he seems to be with his self-portraits, though I can’t say I blame the people who go crazy over them.
He is beautiful, after all. But he didn’t take me somewhere with white tablecloths and low lighting—thank god, because I’m definitely not dressed for that—instead, he brought me to what he claimed is a hidden gem with a waterfront view.
I’d never heard of the place, but he assured me the food is amazing, and I can’t deny that the view is pretty sweet too.
We’re sitting at a high-top table inside, right next to a window looking out over the water where the sun is slowly setting, orange and pink hues painting the sky.
He’s gazing at the water with a distant look in his eyes, his side profile painted golden, and my breath catches in my throat.
I watch, mesmerized, as he turns his face toward me and makes eye contact.
His eyes are a beautiful shade of blue, a bit lighter than usual, with the sun casting its light upon them.
“I love sunsets so much. Always have,” Kenneth says with a sigh, sounding almost wistful, and it makes me think of the hunch I had about him loving them. How did I know that about him? “Golden hour is my favorite.”
I almost say it’s my favorite too, only because of the way the golden light dances on his skin, kissing his golden hair and making it turn so pale it looks almost white.
The way his delicate features relax when he’s bathed in the light of the setting sun makes my hands shake slightly, and when his lips part, I imagine kissing him and never stopping. Not even to take a breath.
I shake my head and focus on what he just said.
I want to know all about his favorites, so I immediately follow up with questions to keep the conversation going.
“I thought you only photographed yourself?” I smirk, teasing him.
It has the desired effect, and his cheeks turn a delicious shade of bubblegum pink.
“Fuck, you make me sound so self-centered.” He chuckles, and I raise an eyebrow at him. “No, Conrad. I photograph plenty of other things.”
“Like what?” I ask softly.
“People. Sunsets. The ocean.” He smiles softly. “Especially the ocean.”
“I take it you like the ocean then?” I ask stupidly, but he just nods.
“It’s my favorite place to be,” Kenneth replies, fidgeting with his fingers, looking down at them momentarily before snapping his gaze to mine once more. “I like to walk the beach at sunset. There’s something peaceful about it.”
“What else do you like about it?” I hold my breath as his eyes twinkle and he bites his bottom lip.
“Swimming naked at night.”
I raise an eyebrow, not at all surprised by his answer. He seems adventurous in every sense of the word. I chuckle, and he grins. “Of course you do.”
“Is that judgment I detect?” he asks, leaning toward me, his elbows now on the table. His eyes are still that mesmerizing shade of blue, and I’m powerless to stop the way they draw me in. I’m caught—hook, line, and sinker.
I shake my head, “Curiosity.”
He looks even more intrigued. “What are you curious about?”
I lean in too, resting my chin on my hands. His eyes dip down to my lips, and I smirk. “Do you go swimming alone? Or do you usually have company?”
“Oh, it’s much more fun with company.”
I grin. “Maybe we should go together sometime.”
“Maybe.” He grins. “I do want to find out something. It’s really bothering me that I don’t know.”
“You want to find out what?” I ask, confused.
“If you have a nice cock.”
“Are you always this forward?” I cough, and he laughs.
“Always.” There’s a challenge in his eyes. “But I’m not sure I’ll even call you after tonight.”
“Won’t you, though?” I ask, my body thrumming with excitement. “I thought you wanted to find out if I have a nice cock.”
Kenneth throws his head back and laughs again, loud and unrestrained.
It’s the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard in my life, and I want to hear it again and again.
When he meets my eyes once more, his cheeks are flushed bright red, and a wide smile has settled over his face.
His dimples are on full display now, one at each side of his mouth, and then one little divot on the apple of his cheek right under his left eye.
I’ve never seen anyone with a dimple there before, and I decide it’s my favorite thing about him, too.
I have a feeling all my favorites will involve him from now on.
“I have a feeling it is very nice indeed,” he says, and my body feels hot suddenly. “But I can’t be absolutely sure until I see it.”
“I don’t want you to get your hopes up,” I tell him playfully. “I don’t put out until the third date.”
“Is that so?” he asks, his smile widening impossibly more. “Not even for pretty boys like me?”
I laugh now, too, my hand coming to rest close to his. In a bold move, I play with his fingers. My skin tingles where I’m touching him, and my breath catches in my throat. He looks down at our connection momentarily, then his eyes snap back to mine.
“Especially not for pretty boys like you.”
“Not fair.” He pouts. “And here I thought you could be persuaded with a little wining and dining.”
“I know that’s what you thought,” I tell him. “But I want more from you.”
His eyes turn a little more serious now, though his smile isn’t gone. “And what’s that?”
I think about how to respond to that question without spooking him, but then decide to be honest. “I want something real. Not something that’s over after a few hours of fun.”
“You don’t even know me,” he replies.
It feels like I do. “So let me get to know you.”
Kenneth’s jaw drops, and then he closes his mouth. “Does this usually work on others?”
“Not sure.” I shrug. “I’ve never tried it before. Is it working on you, though?”
His grin is blinding. “Not sure. Ask me again in a few hours.”
“Tell me something no one else knows,” I say, my voice low now.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, something real.”
Kenneth looks away momentarily, clearly thinking about his next words. “My mom has cancer. She’s dying.”
It’s not at all what I expected. In fact, I thought he’d be playful.
Maybe tell me about something crazy he’s done, or another one of his adventures.
He’d blow me away and make me laugh, and I’d offer a story of my own.
This, though, is as real as it gets. It feels scary, this truth he’s sharing with me.
I want to be careful with my words, but before I can think of a follow-up question or something to say back, he continues.
“She doesn’t have very long. Maybe six months at most.” He looks at me now, and I keep my face blank, expressionless. I don’t want him to think I feel bad for him. I don’t. I’ve been in his shoes. “I—” He shakes his head. “I guess I haven’t told people because I don’t want them to pity me.”
“Why’d you tell me then?” I ask him, voice hoarse.
“I don’t know.” Kenneth grimaces.
“My dad died a few months ago,” I tell him, and his eyes widen. “Colon cancer.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He shakes his head rapidly, withdrawing his hand from beside mine. “Here I am complaining about—”
“Don’t do that.” I reach for his hand once more, and this time, I lace our fingers together. “You’re not complaining, you’re talking about it. You need to lean on people right now. Someone who will help to carry you.”
“And is that person going to be you?” Kenneth asks quietly, voice barely audible over the music playing in the restaurant. His eyes are filled with something I can’t decipher. Sorrow, but also something else. Something more. Hope, maybe?
“If that’s what you want,” I say with a soft smile, squeezing his hand once in reassurance. In a promise. I’ll never leave you, just say the word. I don’t even know why I think it—it’s too soon.
Before he can reply, a server comes to our table and asks us what we want to drink.
Kenneth doesn’t even look at me when he orders two of the same cocktails and two cups of water.
She nods, giving him a flirty smile, and I narrow my eyes at her.
She walks away without one glance in my direction. Rude as hell.
“Don’t be jealous, babe,” Kenneth says softly, letting go of my hand and turning it over, then trailing his finger over the palm of my hand, following the lines carved into my skin.
It tickles slightly, and I shift in my seat.
Somehow, the touch feels erotic in a way I know it shouldn’t. “I’m not attracted to women.”
I look at him with a grateful smile. I needed to hear that.
I don’t particularly like the idea of him flirting with someone else while we’re on a date, or ever again, really.
My brain catches one word, though—babe—and runs with it.
My grateful smile turns into a grin now, and he rolls his eyes.
I’m glad for the lighter mood, happy to have his flirty banter back.
“I wasn’t jealous.”
“You’re not a very good liar.” Kenneth snorts. “Your eyes say a lot.”
“And what are they saying now?” I raise an eyebrow, looking into his deep blues.
“That you like me way more than you’re letting on,” he says thoughtfully. “And you don’t want to scare me with it.”
“And are you scared of it?”
“Yes,” he answers seriously, not missing a beat.
“You shouldn’t be,” I reply, and he continues tracing his finger over the palm of my hand. “I’ll always catch you.”
His face contorts into a wide smile, and he laughs, shaking his head. “Are you always this intense?”
“Rarely.”
“So you’re saying I’m special, then?” he asks me, his voice small.
“Do you want to be special?” I tilt my head to the side, and he looks away.
“I don’t know,” he replies. “I don’t think I’ve ever been special to anyone before.”
His vulnerability hits me like a punch to the chest, and my breath rushes out of me. “I doubt that.”