Page 37 of Eden's Joker

The way he picked at his spaghetti the other day makes me think he’d prefer something meatier—most of the guys I know do—and after this date, I want to do something nice for him.

“Lead the way,” he says and once again wraps his arm around my shoulders as we exit the theatre.

This time I wrap my arm around his waist as we walk. Apart from a slight tensing as he feels my touch, it’s the most natural thing to do and we walk in step down the twilit sidewalk.

People are just starting to come out for the eveningand all the restaurants and even some of the shops we pass are brightly lit.

“It’s like in the movie,” he suddenly says. “We’re from such different worlds. I want you. But I don’t want to mess everything up with you if I rush and indulge my obsession.”

I gasp, not sure what to say.

“That’s the reason why I didn’t let myself have you the other night,” he elaborates. “Even though, I very, very much wanted to.”

I’m still at a total loss as to what to say. Or think. I did not expect him to open up like this.

“Are you confessing strong obsession-like feelings towards me?” I asked, chuckling.

Of all the times to make lame jokes, I choose this one.

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing the people behind and in front of us to go around as he turns me to face him.

There’s no smile in his ice blue eyes. Only need. And desire.

“Yeah, I think maybe I am,” he says. “I knew I’d love you the moment I first saw you.”

“On the video?” I ask.

He nods. “That’s why I’m here. Because video will never be enough.”

“You rode across the country just to meet me?” I ask.

The romantic in me feels very weak in the kneesright now. The realist is still wondering why he won’t even kiss me properly if that’s true.

“That’s why I want to take it slow,” he says. “So I don’t fuck it all up. You’re the woman of my dreams.”

Oh. Man. If I was holding a fan, I’d be using it to cool my face so hard right now.

“You don’t have to worry,” I say. “Because you’re the man of my dreams too. There’s no way we can mess this up.”

He looks skeptical for a moment, but then smiles one of the brightest smiles I’ve ever seen on his face. It even warms up his cold eyes.

“Then I’d like to kiss you now,” he says.

“Yes, please do.”

And he does.

The touch of his lips is electric yet soft and gently tender somehow. It makes warmth and bliss that flows through me, bubbling like a brook, soft like a warm summer breeze. Tension leaves my body like taut guitar strings getting plucked, creating a beautiful melody where there was only tense silence before.

Everything seems to flow together in perfect harmony inside me and out. And especially between us. In this moment, he’s a part of me and I’m part of him.

This. This is what I imagined our first kiss would feel like. And I was right. Without all the push and pull, it is absolutely perfect. And I am sure everything else will be too.

But I can wait.

He’s right. Waiting is better. Especially if this perfect bliss is the prize for it.

After all, if we’re going to grow old together, we have all the time in the world.

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