Page 6 of One Night

I open my eyes and look at him. "What?"

"Let's get out of here. Let's go back to my place. It's just a few blocks away."

"I'd rather stay here," I say, pulling his face back to mine and kissing him. "I don't want to stop."

I feel him smile against my lips. "Then we'll stay here."

We do it again and it's just as magical. Pure bliss. Like there's something in the air, a full moon, or something else that's making this night unlike anything I'll ever experience again.

Some would say I'm being overly dramatic but it's perfectly normal for me. I'm a hopeless romantic, emphasis on the hopeless. I want the fairy tale love story. Meeting someone at a bar is not my idea of a fairy tale. I want something more interesting than that. A story that's worth telling over and over again. An unexpected meeting. Fate intervening. Love at first sight. That type of thing.

And when I date someone, I want romance. Real romance, not the modern day romance that's fast and hurried and impersonal. For instance, texting? Emails? Social media? All are perfectly fine modes of communication but none of them are romantic. When it comes to love, I'm old-fashioned. I want letters. Handwritten letters on nice paper with a good quality pen. And if I go out with a guy, I want him to hold my hand, open doors for me, be a gentleman.

This is why I'm hopeless, because no man is ever going to write me letters and most guys my age aren't gentlemen, but I can still dream. After all, sometimes the universe surprises you, like tonight. Whatever's happening tonight is completely unexpected, unable to be explained. There's some cosmic force at work, causing everything to come together perfectly and make this night pure magic.

"What are you thinking about?" Dylan asks as I lie in his arms under the blanket.

"Letters," I say.

He chuckles. "Letters? What do you mean?"

"You know. Letters. You get a pen and paper and write down your thoughts."

"Yeah." He chuckles again and gently rubs my arm. "I know what letters are. What about them?"

"It's what I want. Handwritten letters like people used to write."

"And who do you want to write you?"

"The man I fall in love with," I say simply.

He pauses, then says, "So will the letters be written before or after you're in love with him?"

"Hmm. That's a good question." I ponder it a moment, then say, "It doesn't matter. No man will ever write me letters. It's more of a wish. A fairy tale. Did I mention I'm a hopeless romantic? I don't usually admit that because it's kind of embarrassing."

"There's nothing wrong with being a hopeless romantic. I write love songs, so I guess in a way I'm one too."

I lift my head from his chest. "You write songs?"

"Yeah, but I never finish them. Van writes most of the songs for the band." He runs his fingers through the length of my hair, his gentle tugging feeling like a really good head massage. "So what else is in this fairy tale of yours?"

I lie my head back down on his chest. "I want a gentleman. A guy who opens doors and sends flowers and goes on picnics and calls instead of texts. I prefer a phone call over a text. Why don't people call each other anymore?"

"You can't find a guy who does those things?"

"No. I'm pretty sure he doesn't exist, at least not in our age group."

"I'd call you."

"You say that, but eventually, you'd resort to texting. Everyone does. It's just our generation. It's how we grew up."

"I call people all the time. I still text a lot, but I agree that sometimes it's better to call. And if a girl wanted me to call her instead of text, I'd do it. And for the record, I always open doors for girls. I've also sent flowers. I can't say I've arranged for a picnic but I'm sure I could figure it out. As for the letters, I've never actually written one but I'd be willing to try."

Why is he saying this? Is he thinking this is going to last for more than one night? That we're going to start dating?

No. I don't want that. I don't want to date him. This was supposed to be a one-night stand. The one crazy thing I did to prove to myself I can be spontaneous. Seize the day. Seize the moment. That's all this was supposed to be.

And it ended up being beyond my wildest dreams. Not to be a broken record, but I'll say it again. Tonight was perfect. Everything about it. Seeing him across a crowded room. That kiss we shared before I even knew his name. Our hot make-out session in the hall, then our even hotter make-out session in this room. And the sex? Fireworks. Explosions. The type of sex you think doesn't exist until you actually have it.

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