Page 10 of Love You Like That

“Every day. Just not as loud.”

She nodded. “You’re strong for surviving it.”

“I’m tired of just survivin’,” I said. “I wanna live.”

She sat up a little straighter, her wine forgotten beside her. “Then do it. Let yourself.”

“You make that shit sound easy.”

“It’s not but I’m trying to do it too.”

Her eyes dropped to my mouth for a split second. Just enough to make my heart thump. I shifted and leaned a little closer. “You scared of me now?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Good,” I said, voice low. “’Cause you the first person I told that story to in years.”

Her fingers laced with mine. “Thank you for trusting me with it.”

I stared at her lips again, licking mine. “I wanna kiss you so fuckin’ bad right now.”

She smiled. “Then what’s stopping you?”

My hand cupped her jaw, thumb tracing the curve of her cheek and I kissed her.

I kissed her slowly and deeply like I was trying to tell her the rest of the story with my mouth. She tasted like red wine and strawberry gloss with her fingers curled into the front of my shirt as she kissed me back like she’d been waiting.

Iw a ss t i l ltasting him when I opened my eyes. Ezra kissed like he talked; slow, intentional, and heavy with meaning like his mouth knew how to hold more than words. Like his lips had something to prove, but they weren’t in a rush to do it. That kiss didn’t just curl my toes. It rearranged something in me.

I wasn’t used to that nor was I expecting it. But there I was, on a blanket in a public park, heart thudding like a drum line in my chest with his hand still cupping my jaw, and all I could do was breathe.

The sun had long dipped behind the trees, leaving us in that soft purple part of the evening where everything felt sacred.Streetlights flickered in the distance, the cicadas were humming low and lazy, and the wine bottle sat empty beside us like it had witnessed something holy.

We didn’t talk for a few seconds after the kiss. Just… existed in it, letting it stretch and settle. His thumb was still brushing my skin, and I leaned into his hand, eyes closed, memorizing the feel. Eventually, I pulled back and reached for the lip gloss in my tote bag just to do something with my hands.

“Can’t believe you brought wine and poetry to a damn picnic,” I said, voice teasing but breathless.

He smirked. “That a compliment?”

“It’s a problem,” I murmured, reapplying the gloss to my lips. “A dangerous one.”

Ezra leaned back on one hand with legs stretched out, watching me like he was already thinking of what he’d write tonight. “You hungry?” he asked like he was reading my mind.

I looked at him, tilting my head. “You heard my stomach, huh?”

“Nah,” he grinned. “But I’m in the mood for some wings.”

I burst out laughing. “What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Strawberry.”

And I knew he was talking about my lip gloss. My eyes trailed over Ezra as he stood and reached out his hand. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should’ve gone home, taken a shower, and journaled about it like a sane woman. But instead, I slipped my hand into his and let him pull me to my feet.

“Where we going?”

“Low-key jazz spot on River Ave. Bomb wings. Chill vibe.”

I liked the sound of that.

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