He was so damn coy as he said this, obviously proud of himself.
And even if we were becoming more and more comfortable with one another in these sort of intimate situations, I still felt my cheeks burn red hot. He settled between my legs, using the wash cloth to carefully wipe away all the evidence of our love making. I was tender down there. But he seemed to be aware because he moved slowly, carefully, gently.
“Do you do this for all your girls?” I joked.
“I have only one girl,” he said, serious as a heart attack. “And no.”
Finished, he tossed the wash cloth into the waste bin beside the sink. Then he bent down and pressed one kiss against me—down there. There was no tongue as it wasn’t necessarily sexual but rather sweet. And my heart took off like a jackrabbit because of it and because of the incredibly kind way he was being with me, pounding so hard I couldn’t really breathe.
“I want to eat,” he said standing back up, all nonchalant Rhett again. “Food,” he added for clarification. “I’m starving. So let’s either order room service or go downstairs for dinner. Actually, if we go downstairs then this could be our first real date.”
“Aren’t you supposed to have dinner then sex?” I played, not knowing what else to say because of how insanely nervous I’d grown in the last few moments. He had my ribs cracked and my chest wide open, my heart completely exposed.
“Maybe,” he said. “But have dinner with me anyway.”
“Okay. I’m actually pretty hungry now, too.” I hadn’t been before, but everything else had helped me work up an appetite.
So I borrowed one of the robes from his room, gathered up my stuff, and we agreed to meet up again in ten minutes. This was a good excuse to get away, because I needed a moment alone in my own room to collect my thoughts, get dressed, fix my makeup, and prepare for my first ever real live date.
Rhett already had all my other firsts, and I was excited to give him another one.
CHAPTER 16:
RHETT
I’d never been on an actual date before. Not one that had been premeditated and involved dinner. I’d had plenty of ‘hook ups,’ but this was something completely different. Sydney left my room, and I hurried to take a shower, scrubbing as fast as possible and then dressing even faster. I’d brought one dress shirt and a pair of khaki pants—so I wore that. Ten minutes later, I was knocking on her door.
“One minute,” she called from inside the room.
About three minutes later, she opened the door. She wore a long tropical dress that tied behind her neck, had her hair down now, and her cheeks were still a little flushed. She was so beautiful, so insanely beautiful, that I could do nothing but stand there staring at her for a moment.
“You look nice,” she muttered.
“You too,” I replied lamely, like a completely hopeless moron.
Then we both started heading down the hall in silence. It was a little awkward, but I think only because we were both nervous about this. About halfway down the hall, my confidence suddenly revived itself. I’m not sure what snapped, but something did. I grabbed her waist, squeezing her tight, and yanked her body in close against my side. She laughed and that seemed to ease the tension.
“Damn,” I whispered in her ear, praising her like I should have a minute ago. “I’ve never felt so lucky in my life. I’ve never been so hopeful about whatever tomorrow’s going to bring. I’ve never had a day better than this. You’ve got me by the balls, princess. And I mean that in the best possible way. I am yours. Period.”
Wow. That wasn’t the sort of confession I expected to come pouring out of me. I wasn’t much of a romantic, or good at being sentimental, but with her I could not stop myself.
“I like your balls,” she teased, biting down on her lip and glancing sideways at me to gauge my reaction.
“You would say something like that,” I grunted, and for revenge nipped playfully at her neck.
She shied away, laughing. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. Sometimes you say the most random things. But yeah, I know exactly what you mean.” Her laugher subsided and she snuggled in closer to my side. “Because I’m feeling all of that too.”
“Good. That’s what I like to hear.” I slapped her ass as she got onto the elevator. She shot me a threatening look as I followed, but I could tell she’d enjoyed that. That was what I loved about Sydney—she was refined and fun all at once. I could be me, one-hundred and ten percent, and she didn’t seem to mind.
The restaurant in the hotel was overpriced and trying too hard to be fancy, but also surprisingly packed. This led me to believe the food would be decent. There were a million and one restaurants in a big city like this, so a busy restaurant meant there had to be something good about it.
We sat at a booth close to the entrance. I might have opted for something more intimate, but that was all they had. The server came by and we ordered food rather quickly. Then with no menus in front of us, it was just us. I hardly knew where to start. There was so much about Sydney I didn’t know, and I just wanted to know everything.
“You don’t have a single tattoo,” I said to her, over the noise of the restaurant, starting the conversation.
“Neither do you,” she countered.
“I know. I don’t have any because there’s never been anything special enough that I wanted to put on my skin forever. But that’s not my point…you’re the one who wants to be the tattoo artist. Not me. Don’t the two usually go hand in hand?”
She shrugged. “I guess for some people. And maybe I would have a couple, but I’m such a baby when it comes to pain. Plus, it’s more about the art for me. I love creating different designs with my brother. I love helping him bring someone else’s idea to life. That’s why I want to do it. Going to school this year, I’ve missed all of that so much. I didn’t even realize that it was such a big part of my life until it was gone.”
She was very passionate as she spoke about it. I knew the feeling. That used to be baseball for me. “So do it. Although, I will warn you, you’re gonna have a line of ugly, hairy, old men out the door. All of them getting tattoos, not for the art, but because they want your hands on their sweaty bodies. I hope you’re prepared for that.”
The loudest, most genuine laugh left her lips. “You’re an ass.”
“Hey,” I said, putting my hands up. “Just being honest.”
“Well…I’ll let my brother have the hairy ones. While I take all the hot ones. Don’t worry about me, Rhett.”
I wasn’t worried about her. She could hold her own. For as sweet and as shy as this girl could be, I had no doubt in her ability to stand up for herself and chase after the things she wanted.
“So do it,” I repeated.
“It’s not that simple.”
“How so?”
“My parents. They might seem like the fun-loving, easy-going types, but they pretty much freaked the year my brother came home covered in tattoos and with that as his new career. It was so hypocritical too because my parents don’t even work. Well, my dad buys and sells real-estate for my grandfather, but that’s more like a hobby. Then my mom is your basic socialite. They party, they drink, they travel, and they have fun like there are no consequences in life. But for some reason, my brother’s career choice wasn’t good enough for them. I don’t know. It makes me nervous about choosing the same thing.”
“At least you know they eventually got over it with your brother, though, right?” I tried.
She thought on that for a second. “That’s true. But, either way, I still have time. I’ve got four years left of college before I have that sort of decision to make. The only thing it might affect now is what major I choose.”