Authors: Loni Flowers
“Well, at least it seems like you two are making some kind of
progress. With your mom gone, you need your family more than ever. I'm happy he's coming around. Unfortunately, I don't ever see that happening with my father. There are some problems in our relationship that are more complicated than my choice of employment.”
Drew leaned forward, “How so? What else could he possibly have an issue with? You're great.”
I gave him a half-hearted smile. “Thank you, but even I don't agree. I'm far from great. How does the motto go: ‘forgive and forget?’ Well, not everything can be forgiven and no one ever forgets. My father made sure I understood that.”
“But what—”
The waitress came to the table, holding two large plates and I was thankful for the interruption. I needed something in my stomach with all the alcohol I was consuming, and I was finished talking about my father. After I asked for another margarita and beer, the waitress left. I looked at Drew and said, “We're supposed to have a good time tonight, right?”
“Yes, we are.”
“Good. Let's not talk about our parents anymore please. I'd like to keep this date cheerful.” He arched his brow and I realized instantly what I said.
Date.
It was too late to take it back.
“Absolutely,” he grinned.
We dug into our food, an overfilled plate of popcorn shrimp was my entrée and it was falling off onto the table. “Good grief! I'll never eat all of this. We could have shared it if I'd known it was going to be this much.”
“Yeah, I forgot how big their portions are. I remember thinking the same thing the last time I came here.”
The curiosity got the better of me and I had to know with whom he was last here. Not that it mattered or anything, but I wanted to know. “Oh, whom did you last come with?”
“Mom loved it here. At one point, we were regulars and had
our drinks on the table before we even made it to our seats.” He smiled and paused briefly, savoring the memory. “My college professor introduced me to this place. A few of my classmates and I were invited to his engagement party here. Once I came, I knew I had to bring Mom. She loved the beach and this was the perfect place to almost feel like you were sitting right on a dock, eating dinner.”
“That sounds really nice.” I wanted to stomp on my own foot under the table. It seemed every time I asked something, I made him bring up his mother and I didn't want to make him sad, especially on a day when he was supposed to be celebrating.
“Hey! That reminds me,” Drew said excitedly. He put his napkin over his plate and pushed it aside. “I've been asked to contribute and attend a charity event to raise money for the Make-a-Wish foundation in a few weeks. They're fundraising for a local boy who has terminal cancer. My good friend and mentor, Phillip West, asked me to attend. Would you be my date? From my understanding, it's a pretty fancy event but—”
“What!
A charity event with Phillip West?
The
Phillip West?”
“Yeah, I know it's kind of short notice. If you already have plans, I understand.”
“No, I mean you said Phillip West was your mentor. The guy who composed 'I'll Weep For You in the Morning Sun'? And who also painted a collection of landscapes that inspired the song?”
“I take it you know of him then?” Drew leaned back against the booth with a curious smile.
“I lived and breathed that song for months. You have no idea how long I stayed in my room with it on. I repeat... hours... no, days.”
“I'm not surprised. He's kind of a jack-of-all-trades. He's so talented. I've admired him for years. After my mom died, he emailed me the link to that song. I thought he wanted to brag about his music because he was always talking about how many hits his videos would get online. Phillip is always joking
around, he’s a young-at-heart kind of guy. If you didn't know he was fifteen years older than us, you'd think he was our age.”
“Is he going to be at the charity event too?” I asked optimistically.
“Of course, he's the one putting it together.”
“Oh my God!
I can't believe I'll get to meet him. That will be incredible.”
“So you'll go with me then?”
“Uh, duh! Phillip West is going to be there. Of course, I'll go.”
Drew crossed his arms, “Oh, I see how it is. Write a song; paint a couple pictures and the girl swoons. Just use me as the vehicle to get to the famous people, why don’t
ya?” He turned his head and looked away, fighting a smile.
“Well, it's your own fault, you should have left his name out of it,” I laughed, seeing he was trying his best to stifle his giggle. Reaching my hand across the table, I rested it palm down in front of him. “I'm
kidding, I'll go because you want me to go and because it's a good cause. Thanks for asking me.”
His smile was bright, and his dimples pierced deeply into his cheeks when he placed his hand over mine. “Great, I'll let you know the exact date when I get more details.”
His thumb rubbed the top of my hand when I felt an excited, but nervous flutter passing through me. I pulled my hand back and placed it in my lap. “I'm giving you fair warning though; you better clear a path when we see Phillip. I'd hate to run you over.”
“I'll be sure to remember that,” he chuckled. Drew looked across the room at the waitress and motioned her over. “Would you like another margarita? Or crack open the bottle of red wine I have at my apartment? I've been saving it for a special occasion.”
“Oh, let's get the wine. I love wine. Plus, it will give me the opportunity to ogle your paintings some more.”
“Wine it is.” Drew looked at the waitress as she approached the table. “I'll take the check now.”
“No,” I said, looking from the waitress to Drew, “I've got this.”
“Umm, no, I asked you to dinner, remember? I'll take the bill.”
The waitress took the bill out of her apron and slapped it down on the table between us. “How about when you two figure it out, you let someone else know. My shift is up.”
With that, she walked away. Drew and I looked at each other, stunned a moment before we both burst out laughing.
Tonight, we were having so much fun that I didn't think anything could have made it a bad night.
After a few rounds of going back and forth, and a little whining on my part, he finally agreed to let me pay, with the promise of allowing him to pay the next time, if there ever was a next time. We were, after all, celebrating his achievement for finally getting an art studio, not on an actual date. Despite letting the word slip earlier, it was
not
a date. Technically.
His apartment was as I remembered it the first time I came. When I entered the living room, I roamed around and looked from painting to painting, trying to take in what I didn't see the first time. With the instrumental music from Drew's stereo playing in the background, I felt like I was on a grand tour at an art gallery, my complimentary alcoholic beverage in hand.
Sitting on his couch, I drank my wine as if it were cherry-flavored Kool-Aid. I listened to Drew talk about several of his favorite paintings, and there was no doubt how passionate he was about his craft. I could tell by the way he went on and on about the colors, his thought processes when he decided to paint a particular scene, and how long it took him to finish a project. All of it, I'm sure, would have been much more interesting if I hadn't already had two margaritas—or was it three? And if I wasn’t working on the second bottle of wine Drew opened. I tried to concentrate, but I couldn't keep my eyes off his mouth. Every time he smiled, I smiled. When he laughed or said something funny, I laughed too. I felt carefree and giggly and I didn't care if it was the alcohol making me feel this way; it felt good.
Drew picked up a magazine from the coffee table and flipped through the pages until he found the one he wanted. When he scooted closer, his leg pressed against mine, and his cologne engulfed my senses. I couldn't focus on a single word that rolled out of his mouth because of the thoughts that were forming in my head. I wanted to feel his lips again.
To feel him press me into the couch with his body over mine. I should not have wanted it, but I did. Andrea did tell me to live a little and have fun. It couldn’t hurt to kiss him, could it?
I pulled the magazine from his hands, closed it, and tossed it back on the coffee table. He gave me a look that suggested I was crazy, but he was curious.
“What is it?” he asked.
“You know, I usually find the details of your artwork fascinating, but right now, all I really want you to do is kiss me. Every time you've kissed me, you've held back.” He watched me, his eyes alternating from my eyes to my mouth. I licked my lips in anticipation. “Don’t hold back, Drew, kiss me.”
“I've been trying to take things slowly. I remembered you agreed that we'd see where things might go, and I didn't want to push you into anything.”
I sighed; disappointed I wasn't getting what I wanted. “I'm not asking for a commitment here, Drew. I want you to kiss me without thinking about what it might mean.” I could feel my body swaying slightly; my equilibrium was off and I looked away. “You know what? Forget I said anything.”
I sat forward to stand up when his hand moved to my cheek. He turned my head to face him and studied me for a moment. I had no idea what he was thinking, or maybe he was debating; I wasn't sure. I started to speak when his mouth covered mine, cutting off whatever I was going to say. It didn't matter, I couldn't remember anyway. I parted my lips, granting him instant access. My tongue slid against his as his hand glided down my neck. Long, elegant fingers curled around the back of it, pulling me deeper into his kiss. I felt dizzy, and I couldn't tell if it was because I was intoxicated or getting drunk off his kiss. He tasted of wine, and longing, and hunger and passion... everything I wanted. Everything I needed.
My hands moved up his chest and I could feel the firmness beneath his shirt. Drew kept his own workout routine and I could only imagine how incredibly toned his body was. His free arm moved around my back as he shifted forward, leaning me back into the couch. Sliding his leg between mine, my skirt rode up my thighs before he partially pressed his body against mine. I pulled my lips from his to catch my breath and moved my hands down his sides until I found the hem of his shirt. His fingers tangled in my tousled curls as he placed small, delicate kisses across my jaw, slowly moving down my neck. My fingers found his warm flesh and I skimmed his stomach with the palm of my hand. He groaned against my neck as his tongue flicked over my skin. The sensation was incredible and I arched my neck back, allowing him greater access. I shifted my leg up and wrapped it over his as I slipped the tips of my fingers beneath the waistband of his pants and pulled him fully against me. His weight pressed down on me as his hand moved to my bare thigh and slowly slipped up the back of it, right before he froze.
Sighing heavily, Drew removed his hand and pushed himself up. “I'm sorry, as much as I want to keep going, I think we've both had a lot to drink and shouldn't do something we might regret later.”
“Regret!”
I half yelled as I bolted to an upright position. My head started to spin and when I looked at Drew, it looked as if he'd grown two heads. I ignored the feeling and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. “So one minute you want to be with me, and the next, you think you might regret it?” A wave of nausea rushed over me as I felt my mouth watering. I held my hand up, stopping whatever words were about to emerge from his mouth. “Help me to the bathroom; I think I’m going to be sick.”
Shutting the door in his face, I made it to the white porcelain sink, spewing blood red liquid inside of it. After cleaning up, I splashed cool water on my face and rinsed my mouth out before opening the bathroom door. Balancing in the archway, I had to use both arms to keep myself from swaying.
Drew leaned against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. “Are you okay?”
“I should go home,” I told him, taking a step forward. Instead, I walked in a diagonal direction and nearly fell over before he grabbed me around the waist.
“Come on, you need to lie down for a few minutes. You shouldn't be left alone like this.”
Drew took me to his room and I instantly fell onto his bed and snuggled into a pillow. I felt him slipping off my shoes, my rejection falling on deaf ears. He told me to get some rest and he'd take me home shortly. “I'm sorry I ruined your celebration,” I mumbled. “Thank you for letting me
be with you tonight.”
He smiled and tucked the comforter around me before leaning down and kissing me on the cheek. “I wouldn't have wanted to celebrate with anyone else,” he whispered.
I smiled at his words, but before I could respond, I sunk into the darkness, my heavy eyes closing on their own as I drifted off to sleep.
I woke with a start and sat up straight in the bed. The stabbing pain in my head rattled my skull and I immediately lay back on the pillow. The white walls and bedding blinded me with the sun’s reflection. Two large paintings hung on the wall towards the foot of the bed, but I couldn't open my eyes up enough to make out any specific details.