29. FALLING TWICE
FALLING TWICE
Kenneth texted me the address to the rooftop garden this morning and told me to meet him here at seven p.m. so we could have time before sunset.
I know how much he loves his golden hour, and I immediately agreed to come.
He said I’d better, because this is our second date, and he worked hard to take me somewhere he loves.
It made me smile, thinking of him putting in some effort, trying to impress me by bringing me to a beautiful place in the city.
Doesn’t he know I’ll only be looking at him?
I don’t have eyes for anything or anyone else.
I just got here—an entire hour earlier than I was supposed to—because I’m too nervous to wait until our agreed-upon time. I need to get a drink or two in me, and then maybe the nerves will disintegrate. Doubtful, but I have to make an effort to make myself feel a little better.
I look around the rooftop, trying to see the place through his eyes, and take everything in slowly.
There’s a bar and a seating area at the very entrance of what resembles a patio.
A slab of cement with tables and chairs, some outdoor couches, and coffee tables, with the bar to the side of it.
I go straight to it, ordering myself a double shot of Jameson, then another one, until I feel more relaxed.
My esophagus burns from the alcohol, and I take a deep breath and sit down, looking at my phone, praying he doesn’t cancel on me.
The only messages we’ve exchanged were about coming here, and I wonder if he’s just not interested in talking to me.
Maybe I’m just not interesting enough for him.
Shaking my head, I pull up Instagram on my phone and search for him again.
I can’t help myself; I look at his profile at least four times a day.
The number of followers he has makes it so that he doesn’t know it’s me watching his stories, and Instagram doesn’t tell you who looks at your profile, unlike TikTok.
It makes me a little more inconspicuous.
It definitely has its advantages as I scroll his profile, looking at just one last picture, one more time.
At least that’s what I tell myself before spending an ungodly amount of time staring at pictures of him.
That’s just one more thing that makes me so sad—losing all our pictures.
I look at the time, and it says I have five minutes before Kenneth gets here.
I go back to the bar and do something completely reckless—I order two drinks.
Sex on the Beach. Although I don’t want history to repeat itself, maybe if I do it differently, it’ll be alright.
This is a fundamental part of us. Our drink.
Our thing. I want that back. And when he shows up and finds me sitting on one of the outdoor couches, he stands across from me and looks at the drinks on the table.
And grins. Right at me. It’s not a slow smile either.
It’s quick, like lightning. He’s absolutely beaming with it, his face alight, his dimples deep, and his eyes crinkling. Fuck, he’s so beautiful.
“How did you know this is my favorite drink?” Ken asks, but he’s still grinning.
“Lucky guess.” I shrug sheepishly—the biggest lie I’ve ever told.
It makes me want to scream, makes me want to tell him I know everything about him; what makes him smile, cry, tick.
The things he loves, and the things he doesn’t.
I know how he looks, sleep rumpled in the morning, when his eyes are barely open, and there’s a softness about him that screams at me that he came from a place I’ve never been to.
Heaven, possibly. A real-life angel. I know how he looks when he’s in the throes of ecstasy.
I even know how he looks when he’s being ravaged by pain and anguish, and that’s my least favorite look on him, though I could never hate anything about him.
Instead of saying all of that, I say nothing else at all.
He rounds the coffee table and sits next to me, even though I expected him to sit in the chair across from the coffee table dividing us.
But no, he gets close to me. As close as possible.
Thighs touching. Shoulders brushing. And then he reaches for his drink, sipping it as he looks right into my eyes. “Drink yours before it melts.”
I nod, grabbing my drink and sipping it too.
The taste explodes on my taste buds, transporting me to another time, another day, another minute—next to him.
Always next to him. It makes my heart ache, and I have to force myself to swallow, to school my features.
To hide my pain. I smile instead, and though at first it feels fake, it transforms on my face slowly.
Into something real, something entirely his.
It feels natural, like being with him does.
It’s crazy how he can change everything for me.
“It’s beautiful here.” I nod toward the garden I didn’t look at before.
There is a hedge of thick bushes around the perimeter, as if trying to draw a line between this area and that one.
Then there’s the entrance to the garden—a lush green arch with white peonies all over it, a stone path leading into Kenneth’s favorite place. “I didn’t know about this place.”
“Good.” Kenneth smiles, his face lighting up even more. Something I didn’t think was possible. “Now we’re even.”
I chuckle. “Let’s chug this so you can show me around.” I lift my glass towards his and clink them together in a cheers, and he puts the straw between his lips and nods. “Ready?”
“Wait,” Kenneth says as my lips wrap around my straw. I halt and raise my eyebrows in a silent question. “What do I get if I win?”
I pretend to think about it, then ask, “What do you want?”
“I’m undecided.” He shrugs. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something, though.”
That makes me smirk. “I’m sure you will. But if I win, I want another date.”
Kenneth grins, “I don’t think you’ll win.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m very competitive.”
“I think you underestimate how badly I want that third date.”
“Does a third date equal third base?” There’s a smirk on his lips as he asks this, and my cock twitches. I force myself to ignore it.
“I think you’re skipping two entire bases.” I smirk back. “Might need to slow down a bit.”
He pouts, and I chuckle.
“On your mark—”
“W-wait,” Kenneth breathes, then wraps his lips around the straw, ready to win. He nods.
“Get set.” I grin. “Go.”
He starts sipping hard, turning pink, and I chuckle. Instead of putting the straw between my lips, I move it to the side and chug the drink down in two large gulps. He stops sipping, mouth falling open, and I throw my head back and laugh.
“Hey!” Kenneth says breathlessly. “That’s cheating!”
“Is it?” I ask innocently, putting my glass back on the coffee table. “You didn’t set any rules.”
“Oh, that’s such crap, and you know it.” But he’s smiling, chuckling, and shoving me gently. He goes back to sipping his drink and finishes it, then looks at me. “I guess you’re getting that third date after all.”
“Couldn’t lose.” I wink. “Can I put in a request?”
Ken raises an eyebrow. “It’s not enough that you’re getting that date? Now you’re making requests?”
“Can we maybe have some privacy for this third date?” I ask, biting my bottom lip. I’m not planning on doing anything sexual with him, but I want to see him comfortable. I want him to be able to relax around me. “My place—or yours. Whatever works for you.”
“My place,” he says softly. “Takeout. Netflix.” He looks me in the eye, then winks. “Chill.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Loud and clear, baby.”
Kenneth’s face turns red, and he gives me a long, slow blink, like he trusts me. Loves me, even. My fists tighten on my lap as I look at him. He clears his throat. “Your laugh—you sound so happy.”
“I am,” I reply without hesitation.
“You should laugh more.” He smiles shyly. “I like it when you do.”
“Then keep making me laugh.”
He rolls his eyes and stands, grabbing his camera from his other side, then offers me his hand.
I take it, and when he links our fingers and begins to lead me to the arched entrance of the garden, my breath catches in my throat.
This is what I’ve been craving. Being close to him—and he’s giving it to me so freely.
It makes me want to wrap him in my arms and kiss him silly right under the arch, but I keep myself from doing so. Just barely.
Kenneth holds my hand tightly, as if the wind itself could take me away from him, and leads me down the stone path.
There are flowers everywhere—all of them peonies.
Some are pink, some are white, some are even red.
He lets go of my hand and brings the camera to his face, then snaps a picture of the flowers.
The sun is setting behind him, and when he turns toward me, he snaps a picture of me, too.
I smile, and he snaps one, two, three more.
It makes me chuckle, and it feels like my chest is going to explode from how much it hurts.
I’m still not sure if it’s a good or bad pain.
Only that it exists, and it’s stealing my breath away.
He keeps walking down the path, and I follow him, stopping again when we get to a giant fountain in the middle with multiple paths around it.
Kenneth goes straight to the fountain and turns around to face me, a big smile on his face.
He digs in his pocket, then holds his hand open for me, showing me two pennies.
Like he had this planned all along. It makes my breath whoosh out of my lungs, and I look at him with wide eyes.
I’m not sure what to say, so I stay quiet instead.
“If you could wish for anything, what would it be?” he asks me softly, an inquisitive look on his face.
“Isn’t telling you canceling the wish?” I smile. “It won’t come true if I say it out loud.”
Kenneth purses his lips, then frowns. “Fine, I’ll tell you mine.”
“Don’t do that—”