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"Shoot, I'm sorry!" His cheeks flamed red as he grabbed a napkin, dabbing at the spill on my hand.
"Hey, it's fine." I smiled, warming to his concern.
Arnold cleared his throat and glanced at the bookshelf. "You read any of these?"
"Um," I peeked at the titles. "That one about the time-traveling detective."
"Ah, Chronicles of the Clockwork Sleuth." He perked up. "One of my favorites."
"Mine too." A half-truth; I'd listened to the audiobook version. Which may or may not count as reading, juries still out on that one.
Silence stretched, filled only by the soft hum of the music. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Time to bridge the gap. My hand crept across the couch, fingertips grazing his. His skin was warm, a contrast to my coolness.
"Angel," he said, voice barely above a whisper.
"Adonis." The nicknames felt natural and intimate. I was me, but my phone name made me feel safer, like I could do anything.
His hand turned, fingers intertwining with mine. A squeeze. Reassurance? Affection? Both?
"Your hands are so soft," he murmured, thumb stroking my palm.
"Yours aren't too rough either," I managed, heart hammering.
Our gazes locked, and the world fell silent. The moment hung in the air, precious and fragile.
I leaned in, closing the distance. His breath hitched.
Our lips met a cautious dance. Warmth spread through me, from my lips down to my toes.
His other hand found my cheek, cupping it gently. I melted into the touch, into the kiss.
We pulled away, breathless. His face was bright red, and I noticed my trench coat had opened, exposing my daring outfit underneath. Oops.
I leaned in again, our lips timidly searching for a more confident connection. A clumsy miscalculation and our teeth clashed, and a sharp pain shot through my bottom lip.
"Ouch." A coppery taste filled my mouth.
"Sorry, sorry," Arnold's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red than the wine he held earlier.
"Part of the adventure, right?" I pressed a finger against my lip, feeling its plump split. Couldn't help but laugh. It broke some tension, at least.
"Let's try that one more time." My voice wobbled between embarrassment and anticipation.
He nodded, his eyes wide behind his glasses that gave him an endearing, scholarly look. We went slower this time, softer. The initial awkwardness melted into a warm urgency. My hands found their way to his hair and curled my fingers in those sandy strands. He responded with a gentle tug at my waist, pulling me closer.
"Ummm... where do you want to...?" I whispered against his lips, a playful smirk dancing on my face.
"Bedroom's this way." His voice hitched as he stood up, offering a hand.
"Lead the way, my God." My nickname for him rolled off my tongue, laced with a tease.
His room had a simplicity about it, books piled high on a desk, a bed neatly made. But now, we were here to unmake it.
"Never done this before... with someone like you." His hands shook as they traced the line of my jaw.
"Like me?" I raised an eyebrow, my heart fluttering with nerves and something else, something thrilling.
"Someone so out of my league." The words stumbled out of his mouth, each syllable heavier than the last.
