Page 49 of The Five Stages of Courting Dalisay Ramos

“Do you …,” Evan starts to say, but he changes course. “How did he die?”

“Cancer.” And in an instant, she’s teleported back to those long days at the hospital, sleeping in a chair at his bedside, watching as he withered away. “So then, what got you into writing? And traveling?” she asks, trying to lighten the mood.

Evan takes her in for a moment, perhaps wondering if he should let her change the subject, but she’s too skilled at pulling herself back before the riptide of grief can take her under. Evan seems to realize that and answers her question.

“I always loved traveling. When I was little, I told my mom I wanted to be Indiana Jones. You can imagine how well that went over. Initially, she was excited that I wanted to be a doctor, but I wanted to be an adventurer. Writing is kind of its own adventure, you know? You?”

“I always loved reading, and started writing as soon as I could hold a pencil. I guess I was really good at it. In high school, I entered a creative writing contest at a local independent publisher with this story about a girl who clones herself so she can live two different lives, and I won. I was first published at fifteen.”

“That’s amazing! You’re selling yourself short.” He makes apshsound, forcing air between his front teeth.

Dalisay blushes and looks at her shoes. “Well, the thing is, my parents took that as a sign that I had peaked, and it was time for me to start being serious about a medical degree.” When Evan bobs his head in understanding, she says, “You too?”

“Yeah. My dad didn’t really see the point in studies outside of applied sciences at first, but he came around in theend. But my mom keeps asking me when I’m going to stop writing and get a serious career.”

Dalisay huffs out a laugh through her nose. Turns out parents are the same everywhere in the world. “My family just thinks they know what’s best for me, without really asking me. Like what Daniel did to you at Mass. He was trying to protect me. He wants to make sure I don’t get hurt.”

He reaches over the table and brings her free hand up to his mouth and kisses her knuckles. His lips are cold from his ice cream, but they feel nice against her warm skin. “Family is important. But we need to live our own lives, you know? We can respect what they say because they want what’s best for us, but the only thing that’s right is whatwewant.”

She couldn’t have put it better herself. She wantsthis, being right here, right now. With him.

Evan’s eyes playfully light up. “And whatIwant, is to kiss you till I can’t feel my lips anymore.”

“Funny,” she says, failing to suppress her grin. “That’s exactly what I want too.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

In the dark of the movie theater the following weekend, she can feel Evan next to her. She doesn’t need light to know he’s there. The warmth coming off him being so close, the smell of his cologne, it’s all so uniquely him, she wishes they weren’t in a packed movie theater, just so she could have more of him to herself. They’ve only just started officially dating, and she wants to take things slow, but her body betrays her sometimes, a tightness below her gut that coils with lust and makes it hard for her to notice anything else.

Horny, she’s horny. There’s no other way around it. And it’s driving her insane.

Breathing the same air he does makes her feel like she needs to handcuff herself to the nearest stationary object or else she might jump him because she wants him so badly; it would be the easiest thing in the world to give herself over to him. But she usually manages to hold herself back, finds ways to calm herself down, to stay in control for one more day. But she’s always had an active imagination, and now it’s too easy to imagine what they would do if they were alone in the theater. How she would leap into his lap and yank his sweatshirt over his head, how he would squeeze her ass, pulling her closer. How his hands would wind under her skirt,how his fingers would tease at her skin. How she’d kiss him so long and hard that both their lips were swollen and pink and they would—

Jolting her out of her fantasy, Evan’s hand slips into hers, sweet as can be. By the pale glow of the movie screen, she can see his profile and the smile that lifts his cheeks. She knows he can’t read her mind, but for a brief, panicked moment she wonders what if he could and how embarrassing that would be. Heat on her face lets her know she’s blushing hard, and she gives him an embarrassed smile in return. She’s being so ridiculous, but he doesn’t have to know that.

He doesn’t let go of her hand for the rest of the movie, or even after the movie ends, or as they walk outside.

“Tonight was really great,” Evan says. He tips his head back, breathing in the night air. Only then does he let her hand go as he tucks his in his jeans pockets against the brisk wind that sweeps down the street. He does that a lot, tucking his hands into his pockets.

It’s easier to notice those quirks more often. How he can only raise his left eyebrow or both—never the right on its own—or how his ears lift when he smiles, or how he twists his wrists before he starts typing a new article as if he’s warming up. But her favorite is when he steps up to any bookshelf he comes across, picks up a random book, and flips to an equally random page to read a couple of paragraphs before setting it back in its place and moving on, like he’s sneaking into a show during intermission and sneaking back out again before he’s caught.

What feels like ages ago, she thought she had him all figured out, and still he has ways of surprising her. Like now,when he asks, “Would you like to come over to my place tomorrow? You can finally meet Tallulah.”

Dalisay’s smile falls a little. That coil inside of her winds up again. “I don’t know.”

Evan’s brows knit together, concerned. “You don’t like dogs? Are you allergic?”

“No! It’s not that …” She licks her lips and looks off to the middle distance, as if there she’d find a way to explain it.

Why did she say that?Whyis she still holding back? Why is she so afraid of being happy? What is she afraid of ? Evan isn’t Luke. She’s a tangled mess of conflicting desire. She doesn’t want to disrespect her family’s wishes and have sex before marriage, but she wants to lose her virginity to Evan. And yet she isn’t sure she’s ready to physically bare herself to someone yet, but she knows deep down she can trust Evan not to hurt her. And to make everything worse, she’s terrified of the desire that rages through her. It’s a brand-new feeling, and she doesn’t know how to wield it. She’s never felt like this about anyone, not even Luke. And she’s certain that being with Evan is everything she wants, but she won’t let herself have him. It’s such a mess inside her brain, it’s a miracle she’s still standing. “I’m sorry,” she says, after what feels like an eternity.

Evan looks surprised, then lets out a breathy laugh and shakes his head. “If you think I’m trying to get you in bed—” He holds up two fingers in some sort of salute that Dalisay doesn’t understand and crosses his heart with his other hand. “Scout’s honor, I’m not. I’ve been over to your house dozens of times by now. I thought you’d want to …” He trails off, biting his lip, because he notices the way Dalisay’s face is brightred. Another quirk of his, lip biting when he’s trying to think of what to say.

Evan looks confused, and he shifts his weight from one hip to the other.

Why is her heart pounding so hard?

Gently, Evan takes her hands and looks deep into her eyes. Sincerity is always in style, especially on him.

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