CHLOE BAKER'S LOST DATE

Chapter Six: I Never Saw It Coming

Every first kiss I've ever received has happened with my eyes closed.

The first time I was fifteen, and the boy had liked me forever and I liked him, too. I was in his bedroom, more innocently than that sounds, and at some point, I sat on the floor, leaned back against the wall, and closed my eyes. I don't remember why, but the next thing I knew he'd kissed me.

It was a pattern that would repeat in my life. Something about closing my eyes around a man I wanted to kiss me made me kissable. I tried not to think too much about what that said about me. Why I waited for him to make the first move. Why I had to hide my desire to get what I wanted.

All I knew was that I never saw a first kiss coming.

When Jack came back twenty minutes later my pants were dry, and I'd checked my hair on my phone. It had gone frizzy with its proximity to water and sun, so I smoothed it down and tied it back into a tight ponytail. The sun felt good on my neck, though if we stayed outside too much longer, I'd get a sunburn. I was willing to risk it because I liked Jack—more than I thought possible after spending only four hours with him.

The last time I felt this way was when I started dating my ex, Chris. What had begun with stolen kisses and laughing at sudden rainstorms, had ended with us being more like roommates two years later. We'd broken up a couple of months before I moved to New York. So, I knew better than to put too much stock in what I was feeling, but boy it was nice while it lasted.

I watched Jack walk across the lawn. He had an easy, comfortable stride, and was holding a large plastic bag and a couple of takeout boxes that smelled so delicious my mouth started to water when he was ten feet away.

"What'd you get?"

"The best food truck Chinese in the city." He put the boxes down on the table, then pulled out chopsticks, napkins, and paper plates. "Hold on while I set the table."

"What else have you got in there?"

"You'll see." He made a motion for me to spin around so my back was to the table. I did as he asked, listening to him bustle around the picnic table while my stomach rumbled. "Glad to hear you're hungry."

I rubbed my noisy stomach. "You heard that?"

"I think that couple over there did, too."

There was a couple in their sixties enjoying a picnic at the next table over. They had a whole Mediterranean spread in front of them—cheese plate, cured meats, olives, and heavenly looking bread. They were drinking white wine from small plastic cups. The woman raised her glass to me, making eyes at Jack.

I smiled and looked away. "My stomach would like you to hurry up."

"Hold your horses."

"Can't think of a porny title for that one."

"That's probably best."

"What's the origin of that saying, anyway? Like, literally stand there and hold a horse so you don't, what? Charge the other side?"

"Mental note," Jack said. "She gets a little loopy when she's hungry."

"That's a good note."

I heard the unmistakable sound of a bottle cap being removed, and then something in glass being put on the table.

"Okay, turn around!"

I span slowly in my seat, lifting my legs to bring them over the bench. Jack had laid out the plates and utensils and there was an array of dishes. A bottle of Chinese beer sat by each plate, and there was a small bunch of flowers resting on the table.