Eight #2
From there, it was easy. I let myself enjoy eating the wings, even if it meant I had sauce everywhere.
I didn’t feel like I was under a microscope or had to be extra dainty or anything.
Not that I wanted to be a mess—I just knew I didn’t have to eat wings with a damn fork out of fear of him getting grossed out.
Because, if anything, he was worse than me.
But neither of us cared. We told stories between bites.
This time, I was the one throwing most of the questions at Sean and he gladly shared everything from some stories when he was younger to when he formed Dead in December with his friends, and even stories of their shows. I absorbed every bit of it.
And before we knew it, we’d polished off every single wing, building a tower of bones together. Brian cleared it all from the table and I felt a surge of sadness wash over, feeling like the night was almost over.
But then, I heard the clink of two glasses being set on our table and then Brian was filling them each with white wine as another server slid a large hot fudge brownie sundae onto the table. There were two lit birthday candles sticking out of the ice cream.
And I suddenly panicked. I was frozen in place, wracking my brain to try to remember if he ever told me his birthday and I’d completely forgotten about it.
“Zette?” Sean pulled me from my thoughts and by the look of it, he’d been trying to get my attention for a minute. Brian and the server were long gone.
“Is it…Is it your birthday? I’m so sorry.” I blabbered my apology before he could even respond.
“No, no!” Sean laughed. “Oh my god, Zette, no. This is for you.”
“Me?” I pointed at my chest as if I had to emphasize that I was the me.
“Yes, you.”
“But why? My birthday isn’t until—”
“Next April, I know.”
My eyes were wide with shock. “How, how did you know?”
“I was there when you and Natalie were talking about it. How you both have April birthdays. I just didn’t catch when exactly yours was.”
I thought back, barely remembering the random conversation we’d had but sure enough, I remembered that he was there.
In fact, I was realizing that I would search for him too every time I went for my coffee.
“I remember.” I finally responded. “But that doesn’t explain this.” I gestured to the rapidly melting ice cream with two long spoons as well as the glasses of wine.
Sean picked up his glass and held it up until I picked up mine.
“This is to celebrate how amazing you are. And this,” Sean gestured to the dessert.
“Is to celebrate your new job. You kicked ass today, Zette. I know how badly you wanted this job—well, career. I know how much passion you have for it. And I also know how terrified you’ve been every step of the way.
You could have just resolved yourself to staying in a career you didn’t love anymore but you didn’t.
You went for it. And I am so fucking proud of you and in awe of you. ”
Sean held his glass closer to mine and I clinked my glass to his before taking a sip. I blinked rapidly, trying to fight back the tears but between them and the swell in my chest from his words, it was fruitless.
One tear broke the barrier and soon, more were cascading down my cheek.
Sean immediately scooted as close to me as he possibly could and pulled me against his chest.
“They’re happy tears.” My voice was muffled against him, and I had to pull back to repeat myself. I looked up at Sean’s eyes and saw a haze of his own tears clouding his green eyes. “They’re happy tears.” I repeated.
Sean crashed his lips to mine and what started out as a tender kiss was rapidly growing deeper and deeper.
I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to come up for air or open my eyes.
I just wanted to enjoy the way his soft lips and tongue expertly intermingled with mine.
I just wanted to feel the warm weight of his hand sliding across my bare skin and I wanted to know what the rest of him felt like.
Finally, Sean begrudgingly pulled back. “If we keep going, we may never be allowed back here.” I knew he was half-joking, but I also noticed a much deeper, raspier tone to his voice.
And I knew right then and there that this night was no where near over.
“Then maybe we should split the bill and take this elsewhere.” I teased. I couldn’t believe how forward I was being—and that I was so comfortable doing so. But I wasn’t scared. In fact, I wanted to say more.
“There’s no bill to split. I’ve already taken care of it.”
“What? When?”
“I talked to Brian earlier. Gave him my card.”
“Well, let me pay you back.” I started to reach for my wallet, but Sean grabbed my hand before I could.
“My treat.”
I started to argue but remembered back to less than twelve hours ago when he wouldn’t let me pay for my coffee either.
“Thank you.”
“Do you want to eat this now or should I ask them for a new one to go?” Beneath his question, I could sense that there was another one he didn’t want to blatantly ask.
“How about a new one to go?” I smiled and watched his shoulders relax.
“That sounds more than good to me. I get Brian’s attention.”
“Okay. I’m going to run to the restroom before we head out.” I started to slide out of the booth but couldn’t resist blowing out the candles and grabbing the cherry from the half-melted dessert first.
I felt Sean’s eyes on me all the way until I disappeared around the corner.
Once in the bathroom, I let out a heavy huff. I stared in the mirror, almost feeling as if I was looking at a stranger. The girl I saw looking back at me was filled with pure happiness, still some fear and nerves, but also, confidence and courage to say what I really wanted.
I washed my hands before and after peeing and checked my phone. I had couple texts from Shyla and Brie each. Both essentially asking the same questions. I typed out a quick and short reply to each of them before shoving my phone back in my bag.
Me: It’s going great. Might be out late. I’ll text when I get home.