Home > California Dreamin'(31)

California Dreamin'(31)
Author: Saffron A. Kent

 I remove my hand from his lips and I find them parted and all misty.

 But damn it, I’m not going to be seduced by them.

 I’m not going to be seduced by the way he’s staring at me, like he wants me. Like he’s so turned on by my outburst.

 I don’t have a lot of them but when I do, he gets all… aroused. And then, I get turned on and no, we’re not going there before I finish talking.

 “Besides,” I forge ahead. “They’re kids. Let them be kids. They’re innocent. Kids are dreamers. Teenage love is all butterflies and goosebumps and shy glances and daydreams, you know? You smile over the slightest things. You can’t sleep. There’s music in your head. You hum a tune all the time. You bite your lip when you think about him. It’s… magic. It’s full of color and passion and innocent longings. It’s doodling in your journal, writing his name over and over, making hearts all over it.”

 I don’t know how it happened but I’ve completely gone off topic even though I was trying so hard to stay on it.

 I was trying so hard to stay mad at him for being so ultra-possessive and crazy.

 But now I’m gazing into his eyes and he’s gazing into mine.

 I’m smiling and he has a slight twitch on his lips, and we’re both swaying under the moonlight. Or at least, I’m swaying and he’s simply shifting his feet to keep me company.

 Dancing with me in the moonlight.

 And my heart is going to burst out of my chest when he leans down and whispers, “Yeah? Is that what you did?”

 I swallow, thinking about how I fell in love with him at one glance.

 I was sixteen at the time. He was older and my best friend’s dad and a bunch of other things that made it impossible for us to be together. At least until I turned eighteen and followed him to Colorado.

 “Yes,” I reply. “I made hearts all over your name.”

 His fists in my hair clench and release, making my scalp tingle, making every part of my body tingle. “And what name is that?”

 “Mr. Edwards.”

 For the longest time, he was Mr. Edwards, my best friend’s dad, and I loved him from afar, writing about him in my journals.

 Lust mars his features, making them dark. “Mr. Edwards, huh?”

 “Yeah, until you became my Graham.”

 “Is that all I am?”

 “No.”

 “What am I then?”

 I lick my lips. “My honey.”

 “So do you make hearts over ‘honey’ in your diary now?”

 I smile, shaking my head. “No. I make hearts all over my honey’s body now. With my tongue.”

 “You’re made of moon and magic,” he growls over my lips, licking them.

 “And you’re my teenage dream that’s even better in reality.”

 I feel his smile on my mouth before he says, “I know you’re distracting me. But this is not over. No one looks at my daughter and gets away with it.”

 I’m pretty sure it’s harmless, the crush that they have on each other. Not to mention, they are kids and they live hundreds of miles apart. So I don’t think anything will come of it.

 But even so, I say, “You know, you can’t really stop love. You can try but you won’t be successful.” He goes to argue; I’m sure but I distract him again. “And what about your wife? Can someone look at her?”

 “If they want to make it the last thing they ever see.”

 “You’re such a beast.” I bite his lip. “Now kiss your beauty.”

 He does.

 And while he’s doing that, kissing me, I send a wish up to the stars that my Rose finds a love like this one day too.

 

 

 He told me to meet him at midnight in his backyard.

 “Where the roses are,” he said, as soon as we arrived at their house for the Christmas party.

 “Why?” I asked.

 “Because I wanna see you.” When I frowned, he explained, “I have something to give you. A gift. A Christmas gift.”

 My heart started racing. “Why can’t you give it to me in front of everyone else? Tomorrow?”

 He looked at me for a few seconds before going, “Please. It will only take five minutes.”

 “I can’t,” I said to him and almost ran away.

 When I turned around to look at him one last time, I saw him kicking the wall. And I felt… bad.

 I don’t want him kicking things and hurting himself because of me.

 I’m not sure if that’s when I decided to come see him or maybe I always knew that I would. But here I am.

 By the rose bushes.

 And I’m terrified.

 Oh God, I’m so scared. So, so scared.

 Not for myself, no. But for him.

 Brendan Blackwood.

 My dad would kill him; I know it.

 He gets really mad when a boy comes near me. Not that they do a lot. But still. He gets really scary. All the boys in my class are scared of him, even the ones who are my friends.

 Usually, I find it funny.

 Because as scary and big as my dad looks, he’s not that way at all. At least not to me and my mom. He’s this giant teddy bear and I love him to pieces.

 But God, he is a giant. And he will grab Brendan by the throat and throw him across the room. Or at the very least, he will shake Brendan so bad that his teeth will come loose.

  Maybe I should go. I don’t wanna get him into trouble. Something squeezes in my chest when I think about Brendan getting into trouble.

 Something squeezes in my chest when I think about him kicking the wall too but getting into trouble with my dad is way worse.

 Besides, he’s not here yet and maybe he’s not even coming. Because he thinks I’m not going to be here.

 So it’s really silly of me to stand in the cold in my flowery pajamas and the robe, all the while thinking I should’ve brought my other, less girly pajamas, and wait for him.

 As soon as I think this though, I see his tall form walking toward me.

 It’s dark so I can’t really see anything except the outline of his body. But I know it’s him. And as soon as he sees me, he starts jogging.

 I’m super afraid that he will wake everyone up with his loud feet but still, I smile.

 That’s the thing about Brendan Blackwood. He makes me smile.

 He’s so… loud and open and goofy and charming and cute. And when I’m alone at night, trying to go to sleep, I think about him.

 Okay so, I think about him all the time.

 And on top of that, I count days until I can see him again. Usually, we see each other once or twice a year and in the last year or so, the wait to see him has become really hard.

 By the time he reaches me, my heart is somewhere in my stomach and I’m having trouble breathing.

 “You came.” He grins. “I knew you would.”

 Did I mention he’s cute?

 Like, so cute.

 Now that he’s close, I can see him under the lamp on the wall. He has this crazy dark hair that falls over his forehead. It looks so soft.

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