Hopeless(60)
Which is exactly why I want to stay here.
“We could go see my Mom,” I suggest.
“Your mom?” He looks at me warily.
“Yeah. She runs an herbal booth at the flea market. It’s the place she goes the first weekend of every month. I never go because she’s there fourteen hours a day and I get bored. But it’s one of the biggest flea markets in the world and I’ve always wanted to go walk around. It’s only an hour and a half drive. They have funnel cake,” I add, trying to make it sound enticing.
Holder walks back to me and wraps his arms around me. “If you want to go to the flea market, then we’re going to the flea market. I’m gonna run home and change and I have something I need to do. Pick you up in an hour?”
I nod. I know it’s just a flea market, but I’m excited. I don’t know how Karen will feel with me showing up unannounced with Holder. I haven’t really told her anything about him, so I feel bad sort of springing him on her like this. It’s her own fault, though. If she didn’t ban technology I could call her and give her a heads up.
Holder gives me another quick peck and walks to the front door.
“Hey,” I say, just as he’s about to walk out. He spins around and looks at me. “It’s my birthday and the last two kisses you’ve given me have been pretty damn pathetic. If you expect me to spend the day with you, I suggest you start kissing me like a boyfriend kisses his…”
The word slips from my mouth and I immediately cut the rest of the sentence off. We still haven’t discussed labels yet and the fact that we just made up within the past half hour makes my lackadaisical use of the word boyfriend feel like something Matty-boy would have said to me. “I mean…” I stutter, then I just give up and clamp my mouth shut. I can’t recover from that.
He’s turned around facing me, still standing by the front door. He’s not smiling. He’s looking at me with that look again, holding my gaze with his, not speaking. He tilts his head toward me and raises both of his eyebrows curiously. “Did you just refer to me as your boyfriend?”
He’s not smiling about the fact that I just referred to him as my boyfriend and that realization makes me wince. God, this seems so childish.
“No,” I say stubbornly, folding my arms across my chest. “Only cheesy fourteen-year-olds do that.”
He takes a few steps toward me, never changing his expression. He stops two feet in front of me and mirrors my stance. “That’s too bad. Because when I thought you referred to me as your boyfriend just now, it made me want to kiss the living hell out of you.” He narrows his eyes and there’s a playful look about him that immediately relieves the knot in my stomach. He turns around and heads back to the door. “I’ll see you in an hour.” He opens the door and turns around before he leaves, slowly easing his way outside, teasing me with his playful grin and lickable dimples.
I sigh and roll my eyes. “Holder, wait.”
He pauses and proudly leans against the doorframe.
“You better come kiss your girlfriend goodbye,” I say, feeling every bit as cheesy as I sound. His face washes with victory and he walks back into the living room. He slips his hand to the small of my back and pulls me against him. It’s our first freestanding kiss and I love the way he’s securing me protectively with his arm around my lower back. He traces his fingers along my cheek and runs them through my hair, bringing his lips closer to mine. He’s not staring at my lips, though. He’s looking straight into my eyes and his are full of something I can’t place. It’s not lust this time; it’s more like a look of appreciation.
He continues to stare at me without closing the gap between our lips. He’s not teasing me or trying to get me to kiss him first. He’s just looking at me with appreciation and affection, and it turns my heart to butter. My hands are on his shoulders, so I slowly run them up his neck and through his hair, enjoying whatever this silent moment is that’s occurring between us. His chest rises and falls against the rhythm of mine and his eyes begin searching my face, scrolling over every feature. The way he’s looking at me is causing my entire body to grow weak, and I’m thankful his arm is still locked around my waist.
He lowers his forehead to mine and lets out a long sigh, looking at me with a look that’s quickly turned into something resembling pain. It prompts me to slide my hands down to his cheeks and softly stroke them with my fingers, wanting to take away whatever it is that’s behind those eyes right now.