“Exotic dancer?” She laughs. “You have some pretty smooth moves.”
“Okay, not that.” Now I’m the one turning red.
Alana smiles, a real, genuine smile, and it makes me want to kiss her. The urge is undeniable.
It’s getting dark. We won’t be able to see two feet in front of us soon. And stupid me, I forgot the flashlight in the trunk. So I lean in, but hesitate as her eyes grow wide. I wait for a sign, any indication that she wants this too. But she just sits there staring at my mouth, frozen. Petrified maybe. We’ve kissed before, and it was amazing. So, what’s stopping her now?
“I think we should head back,” she says just as the wind kicks up, and I catch her scent in the air. She smells so good, like... bubble bath?
“If that’s what you want.” I gaze into her eyes, and I can see she’s conflicted. I want to ask her what’s wrong, but I already know she won’t tell me.
“It’s getting late. And dark.”
“Are you afraid of the dark?” I whisper, my face an inch away from hers.
“I am when I’m with you,” she replies.
I don’t know what to make of that answer, but I push the envelope anyway. I lean in and press my lips firmly against hers. She responds with a contented moan. Her mouth is warm despite the cool air, and as we kiss, heat spreads through my body like honey, coating every inch of me.
This girl is like a drug. The smallest taste, and I’m hooked.
I kiss her harder, locking my hand behind her head, my tongue imploring her mouth. She suddenly presses against my shoulder, pushing me away. “It’s really time to go.” She stands up and brushes the sand off her legs.
Shit, I totally just fucked up.
I stand as well, grab the blanket, and shake it out. Alana takes it from me and folds it up.
“Alana.” I grab her arm. It’s almost too dark to see her face, but I can make out the shadows of her expression in the moonlight. “I didn’t mean to push you. Or upset you.”
“You didn’t, Ryan.”
“Then why did you stop?”
She stares up at me silently, holding the blanket against her body as if it’s a shield.
“You can talk to me. About anything,” I try to persuade her.
“Ryan, that’s sweet, but I don’t think I’ll be pouring my heart out just yet.” She steps away from me and starts walking toward the car.
“Why not?” I hurry after her.
“What do you mean, why not? We just met.”
“So, what?”
“This is absurd.” She staggers through the sand.
“Why? Because I like you?”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I would if you’d give me a chance.”
She stops walking.
She’s pushing me away. I can feel it. Why?
“Look, Ryan, you seem like a really nice guy—”