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He laughs, “You just told me today."
“Oh right. That sounds like so much longer ago. I mean, seems like. I’m a little intoxicated.”
"Another reason why I can't kiss you."
"Do we need any more?"
He grins, “You're funny.
"I get that a lot."
“We have three reasons now. I think that’s enough.”
Three? He's married, I know that. He's probably talking about the distance as the second one, as I am also aware of this problem. But what is the third? Staring at his handsome face I ask, “You were raised here?" He nods. " Have you ever traveled away from Georgia?"
"I've been to Florida and Louisiana.”
"I haven't been many places. That's one of the reasons I did this. My best friend, her name is Gemma, she said I'm not spontaneous." I laugh, "I'd love to see her face if she saw me dancing tonight! Although we did get used to go dancing a lot when we hit twenty-one. The clubs got old though. It's not really my scene." I pick up a tiny rock on the porch, evidence of the gravel driveway taking a ride in someone’s shoe, and play with it. "You're a very good dancer."
"Haven't had much chance to…haven't danced in a long time. "
“Me neither." I look over and discover him staring at me. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
His eyes are smoldering as he confesses, “You're beautiful. I find it hard not to look at you. Tell me a story from your childhood."
I roll my eyes, “Little too drunk to think of one. I’m sorry. Um…hang on.” I move the pebble to my other hand. “I know there's got to be some thing…oh, I know! When I was eleven our parents took my brother and I to Disneyland and when Goofy came over to me, I cried. He was so small on TV. Manageable, right? But there he was giant-sized compared to me, all gangly arms flailing as he rocked side to side. It felt like he was a ghost haunting a mansion in one of those horror movies I spied when our parents wouldn't let us watch them. We would sometimes stick our heads around the corner, watch until we couldn't stand it anymore, scream and run back to our rooms. Goofy was like one of those characters come to life and I just couldn't stop crying. He tried to console me and that just made it worse,” I laugh, uncomfortably vulnerable sharing this memory, quieter as I admit, "I haven't been to Disneyland since."
Ben takes the rock from my hand, rolling it over in one of his mammoth ones. “I went to Florida with my cousins, but just the once. We didn't go to Disney World. I feel like we should've."
"Oh that's right! It's really close to here."
He laughs, “In another state, but yeah."
"Well…considering how far it is from California, it's extremely close." On a whim I you say, “We should go! That would show Gemma. Do you think we could talk to group into it?"
"Why don't you ask?"
I side-eyeball him. "You're teasing me."
"Maybe I am," he says thoughtfully. "I doubt they’d go but it would be fun. Maybe you and I could go someday."
I turn so I can see him better, inspecting his gorgeous face as he tosses the pebble and catches it. “You have a little fuzzy in your hair." Reaching up I pause to get permission. He nods and I remove a tiny white fuzz of fabric, show it to him, and toss it onto the ground. "You're not wearing…I don't think it's from your T-shirt." I poked his hard chest, right above his heart, the blue cotton stretching beneath my index finger.
"It's gotta be from the throw rug on our couch. I slept on that last night, which means it's been on me all day. Dad didn't tell me.”
I joke, “Does he need glasses because it was huge."
"Gigantic," Ben smiles, playing along.
“Wait. You slept on the couch?”
“Yes.”
My heart races with hope. “Your turn. Tell me a story from your childhood, Ben. I like your name. I like saying it. Ben. Ben. Bennnn."
He laughs, throwing the pebble higher as we both watch him easily catch it. “A story from my childhood. There are so many here, I don't know where to start. My cousins and I used to play here."
"How many cousins do you have?"
