Eye Contact Page 18

  “I put a blanket and some pillows in my trunk before I left the house. We’ll need to stop for some food and then head out—you have to get there early for a good spot,” I stressed.

  We were heading out to Jacksonville Beach for something they called Moonlight Movies. They showed a film on the amphitheater walls with a projector screen. Anyone and everyone was invited to come camp out on the lawn in front of the outdoor auditorium and view the movie. You could bring blankets or chairs and any food and drink you wanted. The movies were always family friendly selections, so a lot of people came with their children and made it a fun night of free family entertainment. Some even brought their dogs.

  “What do you feel like eating?” he asked.

  “Something easy…subs, maybe? We can go to the grocery store on the way and get sandwiches and wine.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “Oh good. I was hoping you would be cool with that. I even brought a corkscrew and a few plastic cups.”

  Our conversation was easy on the way out to the beach, and it was even fun shopping with him. We bantered back and forth about what kind of snack food to get to accompany our subs and eventually decided to get the chips and the cookies. He didn’t protest my selection of wine and refused to let me pay for anything.

  We arrived soon after and scored a decent parking spot less than a block from the grassy knoll, which was a relief since his mobility wasn’t exactly on point. He never complained though. He was positive, cheerful, and relaxed, and I was eating it up. I loaded our things into my beach wagon and we trucked over to the viewing area.

  Choosing a spot fairly center to the screen, we settled in. I spread out the queen-sized blanket and pillows for us and he sat down, getting our dinner out.

  Looking over at me hesitantly, he lifted his brow. “Should I… Are we allowed to open this wine? Like, out in the open? Or should I be discrete and try to keep it in the backpack?”

  “It’s okay. You’re allowed,” I whispered. “But it’s cute that you were still going to find a way to drink it, even if it were forbidden.”

  “We couldn’t let it go to waste.”

  He opened it with finesse and poured us both a healthy portion in our disposable cups. I swirled it and took in the nice aroma of the pinot noir then saw that he was holding his cup out to me for a toast.

  “I’d like to make a toast.” I met him in the middle with my cup and waited for him to continue. He cleared his throat and bellowed with authority, “Melba toast.”

  I laughed, and the few people around us that heard him also chuckled.

  “Okay, okay. Seriously though, to amazing second dates.”

  “Cheers to that,” I responded.

  We both took a sip, maintaining eye contact as we did so. When we lowered our cups, he leaned forward and gave me another kiss, his lips lingering for just a few seconds longer than before. When I opened my eyes, he was looking at me with a shit-eating grin then he turned away to grab our subs.

  We ate our sandwiches and people watched, both of us entertained by the other moviegoers. He laughed at the children around us and I noticed other couples also on dates. He flirted, even pointing out a dab of mustard on the corner of my mouth, wiping it away with his finger and sucking the dollop of condiment into his mouth. It was sexy and so much fun, and I felt relieved that my date suggestion wasn’t a total bust.

  “What are those people doing?” he inquired, looking over at a group of teenagers dressed in poodle skirts and Mary Janes. They had their hair pulled up into perfectly coifed ponytails with bumper bangs. “Why are they dressed like that?”

  “Oh, the movie tonight is Grease. Sometimes people get into it and dress up.”

  “That’s cool. I wish I’d known—I would’ve worn my leather jacket and slicked my hair back or something.”

  “It’s okay. I prefer the mussed-up look,” I teased while running my fingers through his thick hair. His expression turned from lighthearted to hungry and I withdrew, feeling silly. He reached over and grasped my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine, and we relaxed into reclined positions on our pillows while holding hands.

  My wine had made me feel warm and just the right amount of uninhibited, and I snuggled into him as the movie began.

  We laughed with the audience at the funny parts, recited the famous phrases we knew, and had a great time with it. There was even a moment when the entire crowd was singing along to “You’re The One That I Want”, the both of us participating. When it got to the chorus and the audience sang out “Oo oo oo”, the gigantic Great Dane to our left chimed in and howled along with everyone, singing in his dog voice, “Roow, roow, roowww.” It was hysterical and hands down my favorite part of the night.

  Although we were surrounded by families, children, and a few dogs, it was the most romantic scene I had ever been a part of. There was just something about the cool sea breeze coming off of the ocean, snuggling on a blanket, the good wine, and of course the company. Vaughn was the perfect date. I had no trepidation when he opened his arm to me, inviting me to curl up into him, and eagerly lay my head in the crook of his chest. We stayed like that for the majority of the film, and I never needed the cardigan I’d brought along. His embrace and affection kept me plenty warm.

  “I had a great time, again,” he affirmed when we arrived back at his place. “That was a really good idea for a date. Good call.”

  “I’m glad you liked it. I was afraid you would think it was corny.”

  “Never.” He reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear and sending tingles through me with his light touch. “I don’t think I could ever think anything you pitched was corny.”

  “I had fun too.”

  “Do you want to come in for a while?” he offered, the look in his eyes expectant and pleading.

  I sat for a few seconds, contemplating it, and finally responded. “I want to…but I’m not going to.” Disappointment flashed across his face, but he was patient. “I don’t think I should.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “Vaughn,” I said apologetically, touching his left forearm across the cab of the car.

  “It’s okay. You’re right,” he replied. “If you come in, things will happen.” His wry grin was confident without being cocky, and my insides stirred. “Things I want to happen but am not sure we’re ready for.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be upset with me.”

  “I’m not upset with you,” he declared, denouncing the thought right away.

  I brought my face forward and stared out, second-guessing myself, like always.

  “Don’t be so in your head,” he insisted. “If you came in, I would kiss you again—I’ve wanted to kiss you again all night.” I smiled, recalling the sensation of his lips on mine and the taste of him on my tongue. “You would kiss me back, and then we wouldn’t be able to control ourselves.”

  He brought his hand over to take mine and brought it up to his face. The heat of his breath tickled across my knuckles and he feathered soft kisses along my hand and fingers. “When I do finally get to make love to you, I want us to be ready.”

  “Yes,” was all I could respond, breathy and heated.

  “When I do get to take you for the first time, I want it to be the only thing you can think about until you think you’re going to spontaneously combust if you don’t get it.”

  Surely he could hear how hard my heart was drumming in my chest. He continued to kiss all over my hand, like he was trying to show me just how he would kiss up and down my body.

  “I want the thought to consume you…until I consume you.”

  The needy throb in my core was telling me I was ready right then. My breaths were coming out short, and when he finally took the tip of one of my fingers into his mouth and lightly sucked on it, I was unable to stifle the moan in the back of my throat before it escaped my mouth. He flicked the pad of my finger with his tongue then withdrew his lips with a nibble, and I swear I almost lost it. If sim
ple flirting in the front seat of my car was this hot, I couldn’t allow myself to imagine actually being with him.

  “Good night, Andie,” he said as he opened the car door to exit. He closed it at the same second I was able to utter some semblance of a response.

  “A good night indeed.”

  Chapter 30

  Andie

  “Hold on,” I yelled across the house at the person aggressively knocking on my front door. “I’m coming!”

  “Gahhh, what took you so long?” Rowan griped as she burst past me once I opened the door.

  “Sorry, I was working out.” If you can call lying prone and motionless on my yoga mat in deep thought ‘working out’.

  She looked my sweaty, spandex-clad body up and down in disgust.

  “Oh, sorry. Are you done?”

  I sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing with her, and made my way to the kitchen to grab a water.

  “I am now.”

  “Good. I have something for you,” she excitedly announced, her face giddy and eager.

  “But it’s not my birthday or anything.”

  “Oh, shut up,” she barked, reaching into her bag. She pulled out a large double-walled insulated water bottle with a screw-top lid, baby blue. “Here. I got you this.”

  “Okay, uh…thank you.” I looked closer at the bottle, heavy in my hand, and saw that it was decorated with a vinyl decal sticker on one side. It read ‘Thirsty AF’ in white block lettering. I cut my eyes over to hers, which were wide and expectant, awaiting a response.

  “Do you get it?” she shrieked as she laughed aloud. “AF for Andie Fine, but also thirsty AF. You get it, right?” A large toothy smile dressed her face.

  I was so confused as she continued to laugh hysterically at her joke that I wasn’t in on.

  “Good grief, Andie. You’ve never seen people post things on social media like tired AF or broke AF?”

  “I don’t do social media. You know that.”

  “I know. I mean, okay, I know, but I thought you’d have at least seen that expression before.” She was visibly disappointed. “I thought I was so clever,” she mumbled, defeated.

  I tried to reassure her. “It’s a really nice gift.”

  “It’s supposed to be funny,” she explained, annoyed.

  “I don’t get why it’s funny. I’m sorry. What’s funny about a bottle that says thirsty and my initials?”

  “Because your initials are AF.”

  “Yeah, I know, but why is that funny?” I was beginning to get frustrated.

  “AF, when put after some other adjective, means ‘as fuck’.”

  My face was puzzled until it dawned on me, and although I didn’t find it nearly as funny as she did, I thought it best to humor her and chuckle. “Oh! I get it now. Thirsty as fuck. That’s awesome.”

  “It’s okay, Andie. You don’t have to fake it.”

  Feeling guilty, I tried to do damage control. “I’m sorry I ruined your fun surprise. I do love the tumbler.”

  She dismissively moved on to fix herself a drink then plopped down on my couch.

  “So, what’s new with you?” she inquired, flipping aimlessly through whatever magazine was on my coffee table. “Have you spoken to your boyfriend?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I insisted, feeling uncomfortable at the uneasy wave that rolled through me at the thought of being considered someone’s girlfriend. “But yes. We went out again last night.”

  She promptly closed the magazine and slammed it back down on the table, her undivided attention focused on me, waiting for me to dish the details.

  “It was nice. I really like him.”

  “I’m going to need more than that,” she urged, crossing her legs and relaxing into her seat with anticipation.

  Not having expected any different, I moved right into telling her about everything—going over to apologize for my reaction to his creepy shrine of a studio, the kiss, the second kiss, the beach movie date, everything. She watched and listened attentively until I was done.

  “And then I came home.”

  “What do you mean, you came home? Like, no action? All that buildup and sexual tension then…nothing?”

  “Ro, I actually like him. I don’t want to jump into some lusty physical relationship and not get to know him first.”

  “You can get to know him while you’re sexing it up.”

  She was incorrigible, but funny. “I’m sure it will happen eventually…I mean, probably sooner rather than later. Yeah…pretty soon.” I was a babbling idiot. “Anyway, what’s new with you?”

  At the question, her entire demeanor changed and she sat up a little taller. She brought her left hand up to her face and began fiddling with her hair, even though none of it was out of place.

  “Well, since you asked…there is something new with me…something big.”

  I stared at her, bewildered and not wanting to play some childish guessing game.

  “Something happened…last night.” She awkwardly fidgeted and shifted around in her seat, waving her hand around like a princess. “Don’t you notice anything?” she bellowed angrily as I stared at her, oblivious and puzzled. She looked ridiculous, and I had no idea what to do. “Dammit, Andie—I got engaged!” she yelled, thrusting her ring-clad finger in my face.

  “Oh! Oh my gosh.”

  It was all I could say as I thought, Man, that was fast. Richard had only spoken to me a few days prior at the hospital. He couldn’t possibly have met with her parents already.

  “He asked me last night, on top of the Shad building. He rented the entire restaurant so we were all alone, with panoramic views of the entire city lit up. It was so perfect…so romantic.” Her face gleamed as she stared down at her ring, admiring it and shifting it around on her finger. I reached over and pulled her hand closer to me to get a better look at the diamond, even though I had already seen it.

  “It’s beautiful.” Still gaudy and obnoxious.

  “Isn’t it? It’s exactly what I wanted.”

  “Wait, hold on—didn’t you already know what it looked like? When you found it before?”

  “Oh, no. This isn’t the ring I found before.” So matter-of-fact, like it wasn’t even a thought in her mind.

  A sense of dread washed over me and I couldn’t help but ask, “Whose ring was it then—the one you found before?”

  “Apparently, it was his grandmother’s. She gave it to him to use but he knew it wasn’t my taste. I can’t tell him that I’d found it because then he’d know I was snooping around and knew this was coming. I’m just happy he decided to go with something…more me.” She was enamored with the sparkling bauble, and I feared she was more excited about the wedding than the actual marriage.

  “Congratulations.” I silently said a prayer for my friend to find happiness and be okay, even if this was what did it for her.

  “Thanks. I couldn’t wait to tell you.” She was gleaming.

  She arose from the couch and headed to rinse her glass out in the sink.

  “We should celebrate,” I announced. “An engagement party.”

  Her ears perked up and she redirected her interest back to me again. “What kind of party?”

  “I don’t know, whatever you guys want—maybe a small dinner gathering, close friends and family? I’ll host it.”

  “You will?” She looked surprised and apprehensive. “Are you serious?”

  “Well, you’ll have to help me with whatever girlie party details are important to you, but yes, I would love to do that for you.”

  She smiled ear to ear and pulled me into a tight hug. “Oh, thank you, Andie.” She pulled back and grabbed my face. “I could kiss you on the mouth right now.”

  I replied through pursed lips, “I’m all set. Thanks.”

  We laughed together and spent the next hour looking at dates on the calendar, discussing who she would want to attend and what kind of menu she would want. Of course it would be catered as I didn’t cook for more than one
person at a time, and she was thrilled when I suggested a seating chart so her mother and father could be strategically placed at opposite ends of the table. As if she had secretly already been planning the event, she threw out color choices and offered to have fresh flowers made for centerpieces. It was almost disturbing. I never thought about stuff like this, yet it wouldn’t have surprised me if she already had a Pinterest board laying out all the specifics for her engagement party and subsequent nuptials. When she tried to ask me about a budget, I immediately rejected any talk of her contributing. I was a doctor, for Pete’s sake—I made great money and never spent any of it on anything important. It was the least I could do for my best friend.

  Before I knew it, there was a tentative plan in place for me to host a dinner party to celebrate the engagement of Rowan and Richard in just under three weeks. I had a lot of work to do to make it happen, and I was determined for it to be spectacular for her.

  Chapter 31

  Vaughn

  It seemed like it had been forever since I last saw her, and I hated it. I craved her, thought about her non-stop, so much so that my work was suffering—at least according to Angela. Her rolling eyes frequently made an appearance as she repeatedly told me how bad I had it. I couldn’t help it. Andie’s voice was in my head, the sweet scent of her shampoo in my nose, the sensation of her soft skin on my fingertips, still. To have such an amazing beginning to our relationship only for it to abruptly stop with a lull in our contact was painful.

  She was a brilliant doctor and respected surgeon, obviously in demand at her job, which was important to her. As much as I knew that and tried to be understanding of her intense and unorthodox schedule, I missed her.

  “You okay, boss man?” I heard Angela ask from across the shop. As I lazily glanced up to answer her, she spoke again. “You’ve been staring at that spinning sander for ten minutes in some sort of trance.”

  “I have not.”

  “You have so. I’m surprised you haven’t slipped and grinded your fingertips off yet. What’s your deal?” she chided as she went back to furiously typing on her laptop.

  Shutting down the power at my workstation, I slid my chair back and stood, reaching for my crutch. “I’m just distracted, I guess.”