Chapter 26 Jesse

A s soon as she leaned toward me, I knew that if I didn't figure out how to stop myself, I was going to do this whole first date backwards. Again. Her skin was so soft under my fingertips, and the way she shivered when I touched her was a high I really didn't want to come down from. I just wanted to keep figuring out how to get her to make those sounds. But fuck I really wanted to do this the right way.

We both pulled back at the same time, heavy breathing in tandem.

"We should—"

"Maybe—"

We spoke simultaneously, and I couldn't help but grin up at her. She was gorgeous like this— her hair slightly mussed, cheeks flushed, lips pink.

"Just a breather?" she got out, slowly sliding off my lap back into the spot next to me.

I tried to be subtle in adjusting myself, but she didn't even try to contain the near-snort she let out.

"Sorry," she added.

But she didn't sound sorry at all, and I didn't want her to be. Kissing her was more than I ever thought I'd get again.

"A breather is probably good. We can still make our reservation within the time window before they give away the table." I stood, straightening my clothes and running my fingers through my now dry hair.

She hesitated for a beat before speaking. "I know you're set on this, like, first date do-over or doing everything ‘correctly' and whatnot, but can we accept that we're just supposed to be ourselves and not go sit at a restaurant pretending like we don't want to be kissing?"

I was quiet for a minute. Just being with her and hanging out together had always felt comfortable, like we belonged. But I also didn't want her to think that I wouldn't put in the work to be with her.

"I can see you arguing with yourself in your head. Just say it out loud," she encouraged, pulling at my hand to get me to sit back down.

"I don't want you to think that I'm taking you for granted or not putting in the effort to, like... I don't know what word I'm looking for. Impress you?"

"You want to court me like a gentleman in a Victorian romance?" she grinned widely at that, her eyes lighting up.

"Those books set very high expectations," I complained lightly.

"Oh? And how would you know?" she questioned.

"I may have downloaded a couple of other books to my reading app." I bit my lip, starting to hate that her grin was now threatening to overtake her face. "I get bored at work sometimes! They're entertaining, Sam. Don't judge me."

"Oh, I am judging you. But the verdict is leaning in your favor." She leaned in to plant a quick kiss on my lips.

"Fine. Judge away, then. I really did sit down to start working on a slideshow about the pirate book, by the way. But I felt like I was crossing the line from funny and endearing to weird and creepy. So, I didn't do it."

She laughed in response.

"Well, A plus for effort, Garrett. But back to the point. Dinner?"

"Whatever you want to do. Just know that it was not my plan to bring you here and seduce you with a teen vampire drama to get out of taking you on a date."

"Noted. Can we order Chinese and finish watching season two? And maybe make out some more?"

"You're literally perfect." I stood and turned, looking for my phone, and I faltered, my knee not a fan of the twisting motion.

"Oh! Are you okay?" Sam asked. I hated the concern in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm good. My knee just gets angry if I move too quickly. It's fine."

"Okay. Want me to get you some ice while you order food? I like everything, so just order whatever sounds good."

I started to protest, to say that I didn't want ice because I didn't want her pitying me or feeling like she needed to take care of me. But her eyes didn't say pity. She just looked at me the same as she had been moments ago, and I relaxed. "Yeah, ice would be good. There are some fancy gel ice packs in the freezer." She nodded and flitted into the kitchen as I called the Chinese place from down the street and ordered every dish that sounded appetizing. I was going to have leftovers for a week, but then I could convince her to come back and help me eat them.

She returned with ice and two beers I'd had in the fridge, so we twisted off the tops, toasted to the slayer, and watched an episode until the food arrived. I was only slightly distracted by the feel of her nails as she traced lines from my palm up to my elbow and back down again.

"Have I told you that I like your tattoo?" she asked quietly between egg rolls and orange chicken, gesturing to my forearm.

"Oh god, this one? Really?" I laughed. I'd hated this tattoo since I got it.

"Yes! Why, you don't like it?" She ran her fingertip around the outline of the flames that spread from the skull.

"Well, I don't hate it as much with you doing that," I murmured. "But no, I was more than a little drunk when I got it. We'd just won a playoff game that we absolutely should not have won, given our ranking, and a bunch of the guys wanted to go get commemorative tattoos. I'm a little competitive, so I pitched this idea of this skull with the baseball stitching because I thought it sounded awesome. It was a lot less detailed than it is now; I added to it over time to try to make it more palatable. But anyway, now I have this very cliché skull on my arm with a symbol of a sport I can't play anymore. All in all, it's not my favorite."

I knew the words that were coming out were going to kill the vibe that we had going, but I couldn't stop them. I congratulated myself on my throat only tightening a little bit when I talked about not being able to play, though. That was progress.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, her face open and caring, her fingers still tracing the tattoo.

"No. Not right now, anyway. Sorry."

"No reason to apologize. I still like the tattoo. I have a thing for forearms."

She shot me a flirtatious grin, and I breathed a sigh of relief that my bummer story was just a blip in what was otherwise turning out to be an awesome first date. I made a show of pushing my sleeves up even higher. I earned an eye roll, so I got what I wanted.

Two episodes later, Sam announced that she should head home. The thought of her curled up against me in my bed almost had me asking her to stay, but it felt like an unspoken agreement that we would go slow.

Actually, we should probably speak that agreement, I thought.

Dr. Merrill would be proud of my communication skills. We packed the leftovers into the fridge and wandered out to my truck. My knee felt better but was a little swollen, and I tried not to make it noticeable. I opened her door, got in on my side, and started the car before diving in.

"Hey, Sam?"

"What's up?" she asked, eyeing me a little suspiciously.

"I just... I thought I would ask how you're feeling. Like, tonight was awesome, but we can go slower, or whatever you want. I just don't want to assume or guess."

"Didn't it used to be me who would ask the awkward questions? Who are you?"

"I'm telling you, it's the therapy." I shrugged.

"Well, I can't argue with that, I guess. I feel... like I'm glad we stopped when we did tonight because I don't think I'm ready to jump in the deep end yet. I like you. Obviously. And I'm getting used to not holding onto the past so tight anymore, but it's new, and I—"

"You're good. You don't have to explain if you don't want to. I obviously like you, too, and I'm not going anywhere." I leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips before backing out and navigating toward her aunt's.

"Will you be at the festival this weekend? I'm going to be doing some live readings at our booth, but I could be persuaded to go on some rides and eat a giant pretzel if you asked. Does Garrett's Hardware have a booth, or do you just go for fun?"

"It would be sacrilege to miss the festival, Sam. Of course I'll be there, and I will come by the booth to formally ask you to accompany me on said rides, and we will buy all the best food." She gave a girly little clap at my words. "We do have a booth, but my dad will mostly run it. It gives him the chance to talk to literally every human being in Emberwood, and he loves it. I got extra t-shirts and stuff made to hand out. My dad insisted on only the ones with our logo and none of the fun ones. But I still slipped a couple of them into the pile anyway."

"Rebel."

"I can't be tamed."

I got another laugh out of her with that as I pulled into the driveway.

"Can I walk you up?"

She sighed.

"Honestly, if you do, I'm going to ask you to come in, and that kind of goes against everything I just said. So maybe not tonight."

"Whatever you want," I said, though I couldn't have wiped the smirk off my face if someone had paid me.

I got out to go around and open her door so she could hop out. I leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss, this one more serious than the last. "Goodnight, Sam."

"Goodnight," she murmured before disappearing up the walkway.