Chapter Four #3
“Winning a World Series was a dream come true.” His voice is
calm, not at all excited like I thought it would be. “The team worked hard for
it, and no one believed we’d make it.”
Okay…
“Was your family there to celebrate with you?”
He nodded. “Almost everyone. They all stayed in my
apartment, my sisters slept on the floor in sleeping bags, but it was great to
have them there.”
“Who didn’t make it? I would think something that huge would
have every member of your family there to support you.”
He shrugged. “My father wasn’t there. He had to work, so…”
Another shrug. “Winning the World Series was the best night of my life. We
celebrated as a team, and my family got to celebrate with us. But every season
you play, you expect to win. I was just doing my job. It’s what I’ve trained
for.” He’s looking at me and can probably tell that I’m a little shocked by his
answer.
Unable to help myself, I reach across the table and place my
hand on top of his. “Christian, you know what an amazing achievement that was,
right? What you did, even if you did train for it, was still such a
tremendous accomplishment.” I pause, caressing his hand, both to comfort him
and because I can’t seem to help myself. “It’s a big deal, and I bet some
players play their entire careers and never win a World Series. I’d still be
celebrating if I were you.”
For a moment, he looks uncomfortable. Turning my hand in
his, he studies them. “That’s not the way I grew up. In my family, we
acknowledge the victory and then move on to the next thing.”
I need to process that statement, but before I can say
anything, our server comes over to ask if we’re ready for dessert. The awkward
mood is broken, and I’m not sure if I’m relieved or not. Still, we order
dessert, because it’s my birthday and he insists, and he changes the subject to
the sitcom I’m filming this week.
By the time we’re done, the restaurant seems quieter,
emptier, and when I realize it’s after midnight, I almost can’t believe it. I
know we’ve eaten and talked, but I had no idea it had been over two hours. I
have to be on set early in the morning, and I still have a bit of a drive back
home, but I don’t care. My mom always said, “You can sleep when you’re old.”
And I feel twenty-two years young.
Yet I’m hesitant to leave because I’m having such a great
time.
“I could sit here and talk to you all night,” Christian
says, interrupting my thoughts, “but I’ve got another game tomorrow, and I’m
pretty sure filming starts early for you, too.”
“It does, but I’m having such a wonderful time that I kind
of hate to leave.”
Why deny it, right?
“We’ll just have to continue this Thursday night at your
movie premiere,” he says confidently, but then immediately frowns.
“What? What’s the matter?”
Before he replies, he laughs softly. “Do you realize we’ve
talked about pretty much everything under the sun except the
premiere?”
Did we?
And then I’m laughing, too. “Oh, my goodness, you’re right.
And that’s the reason we’re here tonight.”
“I know.” Shaking his head, he grins. “There were just too
many other things to talk about. And I still feel like I’m forgetting
something. Like…there was something I kept telling myself that I needed to ask
you, and now I’ve completely forgotten it.”
“You can always call me or text me when you remember,” I
tell him. “And now I’m super curious.”
“It’ll come to me.” He waves our server over, apologizes for
us staying so late, and pays the check, and within minutes, we’re sliding out
of the booth. His hand rests low on my back again as we make our way across the
restaurant, and I love that he’s comfortable enough with me to do it. It’s such
an intimate gesture, and it makes me want to lean into it—into him—and
savor the touch.
But not in the middle of the Oak & Iron bistro.
Christian holds the door for me as we step out into the cool
night air. I shiver slightly, and he moves closer as we make our way to my car.
I’m parked under one of the outside lights, and when we stop, it feels like
there’s a spotlight on us. I had been hoping for maybe a romantic kiss under
the stars, but the brightness is killing the mood.
I stop next to the car and face him with a soft, happy sigh.
“I had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you for being willing to come out and
meet me like this.”
“I’m the one who should thank you. I was nervous about
meeting someone under these circumstances, but I’m glad I didn’t let it stop
me.” He pauses, his expression thoughtful. “I’m glad I left my comfort zone and
came out to meet you, Ella Rose.”
I can feel my cheeks heat. No one’s ever called me that. At
least, no one but my parents, and they haven’t called me by my full name since
I was a little girl.
And it never made me feel quite so…swoony.
“And I’m really glad you left your comfort zone to
come out and meet me,” I tease lightly.
Then we’re just standing there, staring at each other, and
I’m wondering if there will be a kiss or if it’s too soon. I hope it’s not, but
I also don’t want to be the one to initiate a kiss just in case he thinks I’m
coming on too strong.
Ugh…why am I still like this? I’ve never been indecisive
in my entire life. Why now?
The next thing I know, he’s reaching up and caressing my
cheek and then…he stops. His thumb gently brushes against my face one last time
before he pulls away.
“Make a wish,” he whispers.
“Um…what?” Is this man seriously asking me, the girl who
lives to make wishes on stars, to make a wish?
He nods at his thumb. “You had an eyelash on your cheek. You’re
supposed to make a wish and blow it away.” He smiles. “Come on. Make a wish.”
My heart feels like it’s ready to explode because, if ever
there was a confirmation that Christian Lucas is my person, this is it.
I lightly bite my lip and meet his gaze, right before I
close my eyes.
I wish for Christian to kiss me goodnight.
Then, I delicately blow on his finger and secretly pray the
eyelash blows away.
When I open my eyes, he’s studying me intently, right before
he reaches up again to gently cup my face. I feel myself leaning in, hoping I’m
not misreading the situation. But then he tenderly presses his lips to mine in
a kiss that is somehow both chaste and perfect.
And, unfortunately, over too soon.
“Goodnight, Ella Rose.” He reaches around me to open my car
door and holds it until I’m seated. “Text me when you get home so I know you
made it there safely.”
I can’t take my eyes off him, even as I nod and promise, “I
will.”
He closes my door and takes a step back, but he doesn’t move
until I pull out of the parking spot and then turn out onto the road.
I’m smiling, even though I feel like I just left part of my
heart back there under that bright light.
I guess my fourth-grade teacher was right. Something special
did happen on my golden birthday.
I know this is the beginning of something big.