Page 13 of Prospect
"Be right back, babe." Turning, he strides toward Emerson, who's pulling out throw blankets from under the seat storage bin. Walking back with one, he drapes it across my shoulders.
"Thank you," I whisper as he sits beside me.
"You want a soda or some water? Mila packed a whole cooler of drinks along with some light snacks," Sam asks and I shake my head. Wrapping his arm around me, he tucks me into his side. The warmth from his body has me closing my eyes for a moment.
"This is nice." My eyes pop open the moment I realize I spoke my mind out loud. I feel the heat rise in my cheeks. Chancing a quick peek in his direction, I catch him grinning and my face flushes. Facing the setting sun, we sit in silence as Quinn maneuvers the boat out of the marina into the open waters of the bay.
Darkness eventually falls a short time later. Laughter and conversation flow naturally between Sam and me like it always does.
"So, have you heard anything from the admissions office yet about those online courses you wanted to start taking?" Sam inquires.
Keeping the blanket tucked around my shoulders, I shift my body to face his and press my back against the corner railing behind me. Slipping his hand behind my knees, he lifts my legs, slides a couple of inches down the bench and brings them to rest across his lap.
"Not yet," I say with disappointment.
"I'm sure they will be in touch any day now."
The first set of fireworks lights up the night sky with a warm red and white glow as the sparks burst outward. Just as fast another cluster of colorful explosions illuminates the sky. "Look at that one. How they get them to form shapes like that is amazing." My eyes fall to Sam's face. The heated stare he is giving me stokes the fire building deep inside my soul. "You're missing the show," I point toward the sky behind him.
Sam caresses my thigh just above my knee causing my skin to prickle. I watch as his pupils dilate with the reaction my body has to his touch. "I'd much rather look at you." He leans in a bit closer. Biting my lower lip, I drop my eyes for a moment. Sam gently runs the back of his knuckles along my jawline before lifting my chin. My eyes lock with his. With our lips a breath apart, his fingertips tuck my fallen hair behind my ears. "You are beautiful." With my sharp inhale, the smell of Sam's woodsy cologne mixed with the leather from his cut invades all my senses. My heart races. My gaze drops to his lips, and I want so badly to feel them pressed against mine. I want to taste him. I want Sam to kiss me.
With his palm resting on the back of my neck, he whispers. "I want to kiss you, Firefly."
I want his lips on mine so badly I feel like I need his kiss to breathe. "I want that too." His lips descend upon mine. His lips are soft and his kiss slow but steady. It was everything I could ask for in a real first kiss. The moment his mouth leaves mine I feel dizzy. The way you feel when standing too fast.
Sam rests his forehead against mine. "Breathe, baby."
I feel silly when a small giggle escapes me. "I'm trying." Pulling back he looks at me. "I've wanted to do that for so long," I whisper. "Thank you, Sam; for being patient with me all this time."
"You're worth waiting for, Firefly." Sam presses his lips to mine one more time.
"Hot damn. Fuck the fireworks. We have our own damn show right here!" Quinn proclaims. Sam chuckles. I peek over his shoulder to find everyone watching us. They all start cheering and I shake my head.
I smile at Sam. "I wouldn't trade them for all the money in the world."
* * *
The following dayI'm finding it difficult to focus. All I can think about is Sam, and our kiss. How difficult it was to let him go after he brought me home last night. I find myself wanting to be on the back of his bike again with my arms wrapped tight around his waist with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face. Sitting here on the couch in the living room, I watch TV with Luna while I wait for Dr. Kendrick to arrive for my weekly session. Luna really isn't watching the show. She's sketching in her journal. I never see her actually write words in it. Today it happens to be a beautiful drawing of a couple. The realism in her artwork makes it feel like the images will jump from the paper. Luna lifts her head and notices me watching her. "How do I sign the word beautiful?" I ask her.
Luna raises her hand, her palm facing her face, then spreads her fingers and makes a swiping motion like she's removing a mask. I repeat her actions a few times making sure my moves are exact. Her smile and nod confirm I've done well. Pointing to the couple sketched on the paper laying on her lap I signbeautiful.
Ripping the page from her journal, she hands it to me. "Really? Are you sure?" I ask, and she nods. Lifting the paper, I look at it; taking in all the tiny details. Their faces look familiar. Realizing I'm staring at images of Sam and myself my eyes begin to water. I look back at Luna. In the short time she has been here, how was she able to flawlessly capture the feelings Sam and I have for each other? She scribbles on her notepad and holds it in front of her.I can see it; and feel it. You have a lot of love for one another. Love is an emotion, no matter how hard we may try we can't truly disguise.
Lifting my hand and hoping I do it right, I sign thank you. The alarm chimes as the front door swings open. "Good morning ladies," Dr. Kendrick steps in closing the door behind her. At her side is her young son, Josh. "Sorry, I'm running late. Our sitter canceled last minute."
"I don't need a babysitter," her son pouts as he plops down on the chair facing the large living room window. "I can take care of myself."
Dr. Kendrick lets out an exhausted sigh. "Josh," she warns him. He responds with a sulky expression before digging his phone from the pocket of his shorts. Dr. Kendrick faces me. "You ready?" she gives a tired smile.
"Ready."
She faces Luna and signs something to her and Luna replies.
As I follow Dr. Kendrick to her office that was once the master bedroom, I ask her, "how long have you known sign language?"
"For six years. There needs to be more people in the world who can communicate with those who are hearing impaired. Everyone deserves to have someone they can talk to and not all of us communicate the same." She closes the door after I step inside the room. Taking a seat on the couch along the wall, I wait for her to set her things on her desk, grab her notebook and walk back joining me on the opposite end. "So, what do you feel like talking about? Have you experienced any more anxiety since the other day?"
"No. That attack has been the only one so far this week. Something did happen though." I try to bring myself to share with her.
