Page 12 of Ward
At the end of our date, Ward walks me up to my front door. “Do you want to come in for some tea?” I offer. “Wait—”
Lifting up on tiptoe, I reach my fingers around the back of his neck and pull, pressing my lips to his. His lips are like plump, plush heaters. So warm and inviting I could smear more kisses on him right here, right now. Harnessing all of my self-control, well almost, I break away smiling. Ward’s blinking rapidly like I just startled him witless.
“Okay, yes, come in.”
“You had to kiss me first?” He stares at me funny.
“If the kiss isn’t good, nothing else will be!” I say, reasonably.
Ward laughs. “I thought I was coming in for tea?”
I shrug as I spin toward the door, key at the ready. “If that’s what you kids are calling it these days.”
“Kids? I’m older than you.”
“No, Ward. You’re not.”
I know he doesn’t know what I mean by that, and he doesn’t have to.
Five
Ward
I don’t ask her to clarify. I’m thirty-one. She’s twenty-six. But I’m inside her house late at night and she’s giving me eyes like she gave to all that delectable sushi. I know she can’t be hungry…for foodafter all that. If she says she’s older than me, she’s older than me, whatever the heck she means.
“You want some tea?”
So she is making tea. I don’t reckon she means the iced, sweet variety, which would be the only kind I’ve ever cared to try. But I say, “Sure. However you take it.”
The house fills with a spicy, earthy aroma as I poke around again. She doesn’t tell me to stop snooping, and my eyes are pulled in all directions by the whimsical assortment she’s got laid out. There is so much to wonder about Yvette, and looking around her house almost feels like a peek inside her mind, like I’m finding clues.
There’s a small room adjacent to the kitchen that’s got such a vibe, it could be a prayer room, or maybe a reading room. Hell, it could be a sex room. It’s hard to tell with only the light from the kitchen giving me a glimpse inside, so I fumble around for a light switch until I find it. The kettle whistles a high frequency—at the same time, so does Yvette.
“Not the big light! Ew!”
“What then?”
“Use the lamps!”
I click on some lamps that are scattered on various surfaces throughout, then turn off the “big light.” She’s not wrong—it’s even cozier like this. The furniture in here is all oddly shaped. Again, whether they’re used for exercise or reading or sex…maybe all of the above, it’s anyone’s guess.Does Yvette have alot of sex?She doesn’t strike me as super flirtatious or sexually aggressive, but how well do I really know her? After our dinner conversation tonight, I certainly know a lot moreabout herthan I did before. I certainly know that I want to know more.
There are so many ways to start a fire in this room. You’ve got some wine, lots of candles, a cache of paperback—mostly fantasy with some thrillers peppered in, it looks like—and a space heater that’s been running all day, just to name a few. In anyone else’s home I’d see aroom. In Yvette’s, I’m scanning eagle-eyed for hazards.
Yvette comes in holding one steaming mug, and I notice it, not for the first time—this presence whenever she steps into a room. Like there’s a light around her that I’d swear I can actually see. That I want to draw near to.
I typically only see Yvette under chaotic conditions. I’ve always found her appealing even then. But tonight, she looks knockout gorgeous. All fixed up…for me. Of course she doesn’t need the ‘big light’; she lights up every room she ever walks into. It takes everything in me not to reach for her immediately for more kisses.That was a tease.
“Just one?” I ask, eyeing the mug.
“You said howeverIlike it.” She smiles, like she’s proud. “So why make two?” She takes a slow sip of the tea, then extends it to me. “Here.”
I bring the mug to my lips and go to sip it like she just did, and it instantly scalds me. “Jesus.”
“Careful, it’s a bit hot.”
“You just drank it though,” I point out. “Do you haveanytastebuds?”
“Of course, yes, I’m just used to drinking tea that way.”
