I rub my thumb across Alana’s cheek. I think that’s one of the most tragic things I’ve ever heard. How can anyone not love this perfect, caring, understanding creature with the warmest eyes on the face of the earth? She can melt a glacier with just her stare. She melted me with just one glance.
I want to tell her I love her. That I have enough love to fill her heart, and my heart, and anyone else’s heart that may come along. I drop my forehead to hers, but I don’t say a word, even though the emotion is bursting in my chest. It’s too soon. I’ll say it, and scare her off, and then what will I be left with? I can’t lose her, and I can’t lose this, because in the four short weeks I’ve known her, Alana has tilted the axis of my life, and I don’t think it can ever be realigned.
I don’t think I ever want it to either.
“Hey honey,” the game attendant calls to Alana. “You never picked out your prize.”
“Oh.” She smiles, straightening in my arms. “I’ll take the pink Yankees hat.”
“That was a quick decision,” I comment.
“I knew what I wanted as soon as we walked up to the game.”
“What about your stuffed animal?”
“This is more practical.” She grins.
That’s Alana. Miss Practical.
The guy hands her a cap wrapped in clear plastic, and she takes it graciously. I love that she’s so polished and polite. It’s different from anything I’m used to. She’s like a delicate antique doll that should be showcased on a shelf. At least, that’s how I see her.
“So.” Alana slips her arm around my waist, and we start to stroll. It’s hot and sticky out now. The humidity is so dense it feels like we’re walking through a sauna. “You’re an artist and an athlete. What else are you good at?”
“I’m a pretty good dancer.”
“I already knew that. Although you never did tell me where you learned all your fly dance moves.” She bumps my hip playfully with hers. She apparently likes doing that.
“I used to promote nightclubs in the city.” I tighten my arm around her shoulders. “Spent most weekends my senior year on X dancing the night away.”
“Oh?” Alana regards me surprised. I just shrug. “I was a teenager. It was fun. It all stopped after high school.”
She nods, understanding my past is my past. I’m not proud of it. But I’m not exactly ashamed of it either.
“Well, I can definitely tell you I’m not the only woman who appreciates the way you move.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about every woman who drools over you when you’re working behind the bar. I see how they all want you.”
I laugh uncomfortably. “No one wants me. And even if that’s true, I’m not the only one who’s wanted,” I accuse.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I notice all the guys who want you too. Sometimes it makes me feel homicidal.”
Alana stops walking and faces me. She slides both hands around my waist and looks up at me with a huge, appreciative smile. “There’s only one guy I want to want me.”
I stare down at her rapturously; my blood is flowing so fast it’s conducting sparks inside my veins. “It drives me crazy when you talk like that.” I lean down and kiss her forcefully; a deep, driven embrace so intense a shock of heat passes between our mouths and rolls right over our tongues.
“Ryan,” Alana utters my name as her chest expands and contracts, working hard to recover oxygen.
“Ummm hmmm?” I press my lips to her forehead, trying to control the ravenous desire to drag her behind one of these buildings and have my way with her, right up against a brick wall.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Okay.” I look up and catch the carousel lights flashing behind her and am hit with an idea. “Is it super important?”
“Kind of,” she cautions as I start leading her toward the colorful horses gliding through the air.