Page 58 of Nothing To Lose
Kitten: I miss you.
Me: You miss me, or your dick misses me?
Kitten: Can't it be both?
Me: So is that a yes, then?
Kitten: To the date? Or to the dick?
Me: Can't it be both? ;)
Kitten: It's a yes.
Kitten: To both.
Me: Goodnight, Kitten.
Kitten: Goodnight.
I runa hand through my hair, my slow exhale visible in the frigid air. The anger, the frustration, the helplessness, it's all still there, coiled like a viper in my chest. But it matters a little less now that I've worked out some of that excess energy, and gotten to talk to him.
Right now, I just want to get home to him.
Maybe I'll be able to sleep tonight, unlike last night, where all I could do was lay awake and overanalyze every moment. Envisioning Tyler with Guy, every time he's mentioned him, or that date he went on. It's unlikely I'll get a full eight hours or however many hours of sleep people are “supposed” to get, but a few hours would be helpful. Mom's pain doctor canceled on her today, and the walk-in clinic was overrun. We waited for hours until Mom couldn't handle sitting in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. I even had her lay in the truck for a while, but it was obvious we weren't getting seen today. The receptionist took pity on us and squeezed her in tomorrow. I make a mental note to bring her flowers. I may or may not have played the flirt when it seemed like it might help. I appreciate her help, but I will riot if my mom doesn't get some help tomorrow. She's having a really bad flare up, the likes of which only happen maybe once a year. When it gets this bad, nothing helps except certain shots they inject directly into her spine. Unfortunately, her shitty Medicaid plan doesn't cover the shots, so we have to pay cash. Thanks to the other night, and the fight tonight, I have the cash to cover it, and a little extra to make my Valentine's Day date something special.
* * *
The Nookdoesn't just lookdifferent tonight—it looks ethereal. Like we're in another world. A world that's warmer. Softer. Dreamier.
All the tables are pushed to the back, aside from one that stands alone in the middle of the room. The dark fabric of the tablecloth is illuminated by softly flickering candlelight dancing across the surface. The overhead lights of the cafe are dimmed, and string lights are draped here and there, casting a golden glow over the space. In the background, that indie band Tyler likes is playing softly, too softly to make out the lyrics over the erratic beating of my heart.
It's beautiful and perfect. Then there'shim.
Tyler stands in the doorway, lips parted, blue-green eyes wide as he takes it all in. The butterflies in my chest make it hard to take a full breath.
"You—" He turns to me, blinking rapidly, like he's not sure if this is real.You and me both."You did all this?"
I shift on my feet, suddenly feeling the weight of what feels like too much and not enough simultaneously. "I mean, I had help."
Tyler walks into the center of the room, the candlelight catching the natural highlights in his hair, and glinting off those glasses I know he wore just for me.
"Isaac," he murmurs, and it's not just my name I hear. It's something else, something intangible that lodges itself in my chest and holds all those butterflies I was feeling captive, so they're fluttering even more frantically.
Coming up beside him, I clear my throat and pull out his chair. "Here, sit. Please."
His fingers graze over my arm when he takes the seat. He barely touches me, but I feel it everywhere. I keep my eyes locked on him, watching him take it all in as I take the seat across from him.
"No one's ever done something like this for me before," he says, voice thick with emotion.
I’m reminded of one of the conversations we had recently, where he told me he never had a real birthday party. That his day was used as an excuse to invite a bunch of stuffy old rich people to their house, and that he was expected to dress a certain way and behave accordingly. That's going to have to change. I’m already planning glow-bowling and pizza parties.
"You deserve to be treated special every day of your life."
He blinks back at me, emotion showing in his watery eyes and the slow smile that spreads across his lips. "So do you," he whispers.
I lean forward, tugging on his hand to get him to do the same, and meet his lips halfway. The kiss is slow, and sweet, but definitely not chaste as Tyler's tongue teases the seam of my lips.
A throat clears, and I half groan, half laugh at the perfect timing.
