Tug-at-your-heartstrings new adult first love story.
What starts as a bet to avoid cleanup duties at her minimum wage cashier job, wins Amelie D'Amico more than she's ever hoped for.
When Ben, a cute customer who always checkouts at her register, fi...
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Ben's weary eyes meet my searching ones.
"Okay." Ben's voice remains flat.
My chest is a little less tight, but an okay doesn't inspire confidence in me. I need certainty. A clear final decision.
"Are we seeing each other, then?"
"I guess we are." He's not looking at me.
Is he nervous? Am I asking too much? I don't need any serious commitments from him and have no expectations either but I was hoping for some kind of a reaction. "So, wait, what's the decision? Are we going to keep it light and fun and enjoy it?"
"Yes." Ben's eyes don't move off my sternum and there's no eager smile I was hoping for on his lips. "Light and fun."
His words are saying yes, and he told me to trust his words. Guessing at what he's feeling is rarely possible, so I take his 'yes' as consent. Not an enthusiastic one but he's not pushing me out of the car. I free my hands from their armpit prison. What do we do now?
"Can I kiss you?" His voice is still flat, but he finally looks into my eyes. "I know I'm the student here, but I have the kissing part down. Are you okay if I do it?" The darkness conceals most of his face.
"Sure." He did get good at kissing rather quickly. All that research of his must be paying off. Kissing is the tip of the iceberg. So many other things I can teach him next. Anxiety swirls in my chest turn into bubbles. I reach forward to grab his neck, but Ben blocks me.
"Let me lead." Sharpness. That's the first sign of emotion I get from him after the scene at the store. "Trust me, please?"
Is he upset now? I do trust him, more than I should, more than is prudent. I open my mouth to ask what's wrong, and Ben leans in and lands a featherlight kiss on the crux of my upper lip, then on the center of the lower one. He brushes his lips against mine and doesn't stop until he kisses every inch of my mouth. My confusion isn't important. The barely there pressure and the slowness of his moves is the opposite of the harsh urgency we shared in his kitchen, but it turns the electricity between us on. I moan, and that shifts us into the next gear. Ben's lips burn wherever they land. When his hands find my face, my skin heats under his fingers. The teasing touches grow into nips, and his tongue traces the softness of my lower lip. The exchange is no longer delicate or exploring—the pressure is building. I'm ready to demand, to barter, to beg, to do anything to get him to deepen this kiss and end the torture: make him breach the line that keeps him outside. I part my lips, anticipating the brush of our tongues.
Instead, he pauses. I groan. We were getting to the best part. There's no time to pause. Frustration burns my insides. No more games. He needs to put his tongue in my mouth. I lean towards him, but he puts his hand on my shoulder to keep me on my side of the car.
"You win," he says. "Can you come to my place tonight?"
What did he ask me? To stay at his place? It takes a moment for the meaning of what he proposes to sink in.
"I'm teaching a class in the morning," I say. I won't get any sleep if we end up in a room alone, and there'll be zero chances of me making it to class on time.
"Is that a no?"
My traitorous body, excited about the idea in more ways than one, does its best to cloud my judgment. Getting my hands on Ben was part of...no, truth, the whole point of asking him today. I'm not going to pretend I can resist.
"My place," I say. "I have an unopened toothbrush from my last visit to the dentist that you can use."
"I'm not staying overnight, Amélie," he says with a bite in his tone I didn't expect. "But I want time with you outside of a cramped car. If we are doing this, we might as well be comfortable."
"I understand. I'll text you the address." I leave and get into my car.
Not staying overnight. We'll see about that. I'm good at making out. Great at it. It's one of my superpowers. Let's see if he changes his mind when I lose enough clothes.
