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“That wasn’t what I was going to say!”
Her face splits into a smile, and she laughs.
“Gotcha. It’s fine. I’m starving.”
I take that as my prompt to continue unpacking the rucksack, laying out insulated dishes with an assortment of breakfast foods inside. I wanted to do something a little different this time, so I left the pastries and pancakes to the librarian and opted for hot food instead. Passing Malia a picnic plate to hold, I peel off lids and begin to load up her plate until she has a full ‘English’ fry up before her.
“Oh my god! This is amazing! I can’t believe you managed to keep everything hot. And crispy!” Her excitement is infectious. “It smells so good.”
Her stomach growls and she blushes. Laughing, I pass her some cutlery.
“Dig in before it gets cold,” I say, before piling food onto my own plate and following my own advice.
We eat in companionable silence, and I notice that some of the tension begins to leave her shoulders. This was a good idea, bringing her here. I’m glad I thought of it. Now I just gotta plan something different for the next time. Maybe I could work up the courage to ask her out on a real date.
Then again, given how badly last night’s date with Cove went, maybe I shouldn’t mention the date word at all again.
When we’ve finished eating I tidy away the breakfast things, placing the dirty items in a bag to wash later. Malia walks over to the lake’s edge and paddles, the shallow water lapping lightly over her bare feet.
“Be careful,” I call. “It gets deep pretty suddenly.”
She waves off my concern without words. “Did you know there’s fish in here?” she gasps. “Come see!”
I cross over the edge of the water and look where she’s pointing. There are dozens of tiny silvery fish swimming in the shallows around Malia’s feet.
“Whoa. They’re right by you!”
“I know.” She smiles. “It’s like they’re drawn to me.”
She wiggles her toes and the fish go crazy, darting between her legs and swimming around in circles. She laughs and the sound carries on the wind. It’s so nice to see her looking so free compared to when I picked her up. I slip off my shoes and slowly, carefully join her. I don’t want to scare the fish away when they’re bringing her so much joy.
Luckily, they seem to be as entranced with Malia as I am, and they pay me no mind. I stand next to Malia and she slips her arm through mine with a contented sigh. She rests her head against my bicep and I chuckle.
“Shorty,” I tease.
“Giant.” She sticks her tongue out in retaliation. “It’s not my fault I can’t reach your shoulder. And your muscles are all hard and uncomfortable,” she mock-complains.
“Here.” I turn and pull her into my chest before she can complain, and she fits between my arms like she was made for them, even going so far as to loop hers around my waist. She barely reaches my chest but when she raises herself up onto her tiptoes, she rests her ear against my heart and listens quietly.
“You’re so strong,” she whispers. But I have no idea what she means. Physically? Emotionally? My heartbeat?
She gazes up at me and all those movie clichés happen at once: the air stills, the birds quiet, my heart stumbles, time stops. There’s just Malia and me and she’s staring up at me with her huge brown eyes and perfect pouty mouth and I don’t even think about it, I close the gap between us, bringing my lips down to meet hers.
Bhodi is kissing me. Again!
When my brain catches up, I join in, eagerly kissing him back. But he doesn’t let me jump on the crazy kiss train –fucking metaphors– he deliberately keeps the pace slow, controlled, and dare I say, sensual.
It’s not the hot and heavy make out session I’d expect from a guy like Bhodi. Always joking, flirting, playing the field.Thatmetaphor makes sense.
Although, isn’t that what I’m doing? Kissing Bhodi now after kissing and having sex with Cove only last night.
Abruptly I pull away, breaking our kiss. The thought of Cove was like a wave of ice cold saltwater breaking over my head, but with none of the pleasure that comes from catching the killer wave first.
Shit.
Bhodi stares at me expectantly, as if waiting for my mental breakdown to fall out of my mouth in a bad case of the verbal shits.
Say something.
