Page 16 of Tempest

“I do, Gavin,” I tell him, honestly. We’ve only spent an infinitesimal amount of time together, but he already has me curious. And a little turned on.

Okay, a lot. It was images of him that I touched myself to last night.

“Thank fuck,” he mumbles, and I laugh. The conversation continues for the rest of the drive, but not with any sort of heavy subject. Gavin asks endless questions about me, from the mundane favorite color and food to things that spark more conversation, like where my love of fashion came from.

“My dad loves old movies. Musicals, specifically. I grew up watching them with him and people were different then, most dressed up every day. A causal day was still a man in a button-down and a woman in at least trousers and blouse,” I explain. “While Dad would laugh at the cheesy one liners or songs, I obsessed over the fashion. Always imagining ways I could take those old pieces and wear them in a modern way.”

“You’re close with your parents?”

“I am. I’m an only child, so that helps. But they’re also great.”

“That’s good. My dad is great, but my mom can be hard. She’s sick a lot, depressed. With me gone for hockey so much, it puts a lot of pressure on all of us.”

“I’m sorry, that must be hard.”

“It is, but we manage. The time that she’s feeling good makes up for the bad days.”

Now it’s my turn to squeeze his hand. He changes the subject again, and I let him because it’s only our first date. If he doesn’t feel like deep diving into his family dynamics just yet, that’s okay.

The drive is another forty minutes, but the time flies with our conversations. We occasionally pause the talk to turn up the radio to sing along to some of the songs that come on. We have similar taste in music, and both sing along dramatically when Eminem’s latest hit comes on. When “Beautiful” by Christina Aguilera is next, he indulges me while I belt it with my chin resting on the open window.

My hair will be a windblown mass of black tangles, but the sun shining on my face and the knowledge that Gavin wears a big smile is worth it.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re tone deaf?”

“Yes,” I say, snickering. “Thanks for letting me sing anyway.”

“I liked your version better.” He pulls my hand up to his lips and presses a sweet kiss to the inside of my wrist.

“Liar,” I tell him, a little breathlessly.

“I’m a lot of things, Odette. But that’s not one of them. I promise.”

“You’re making me a lot of promises today, Vaughn.”

“Only the ones I know I can keep, Quinn.”

A picnic. Gavin has planned a picnic with views of the waterfall. Since the weather has been nice, the two-mile trail hasn’t been too mucky. But whenever there was a chance I could get dirty, Gavin would either pick me up over his shoulder or tell me to hop on to his back so he could carry me through it.

He’s as ridiculous as he is sweet. By the time we get to what he deems the perfect spot, my entire outfit is still pristinely clean. And he did all that while still carrying a backpack full of food and a blanket.

“You’re strong,” I muse, as he spreads the blanket out.

“I won’t make it to the NHL any other way,” he says with a shrug.

“That’s the dream?”

“It’s the plan.”

I like his confidence. He’s sure of himself but not in a cocky way that turns me off.

“Thank you,” I say as I sit cross-legged on the blanket and help him unpack the food.

“You’re welcome. I told you I wouldn’t ruin your outfit.”

“I mean, for this,” I say, looking around. It’s a busy day here, but that doesn’t detract from the beauty of this place. The sound of the waterfall drowns out all the talking around us and I feel cocooned in an invisible bubble with just him. “It’s really pretty here.”

“It is,” he agrees. “We used to bring my mom here for her birthday.”

---