A. Jackson - When We Met

An unexpected bubble of laughter rose up my throat even though I was still embarrassed. I tried to clamp it down, but it escaped nevertheless. Dalton joined me in laughing. At least we could both appreciate the humor of the situation. It took several minutes to get it out of our systems. Tears streaked down my cheeks, and my stomach ached from laughing so hard.

“So, I guess we can never go back there,” I finally choked out.

“I would think not, but hey, they got a good show.”

“You’re not embarrassed or mortified like I am?”

“Embarrassed? Are you kidding? Erotic—yes. Mortifying—no.”

His words heated me from the inside out. Erotic. The word was heavy with meaning. “Come on. You weren’t even the slightest bit embarrassed when the manager escorted us out?”

“Hell to the no. I just wish we would have been in a less conspicuous place, because I’m interested in how far it would have gone if we hadn’t been interrupted.” He winked at me, making me blush again. There it was, hanging out there like a golden carrot. Did he know how close I had been to the big O? Only the fact that he had called the experience erotic saved him from getting a sock in the arm.

“Yeah, well, I don’t normally act like that on a first date.”

“Technically this is our second date. I was expecting to get to second base tonight.”

“Oh Lord. I’d say we came pretty damned close in there.”

“A few seconds more and it would have been a home run,” he teased. Little did he know how close to the truth his words were.

“Didn’t you say your mom taught you to be a gentleman? A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“That was a whole lot more than kissing, sweet stuff,” he murmured, resting his hand on mine. “If it helps, I was just as into it as you.”

“That does help a little.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Definitely. Maybe if I’d eaten before I drank a gallon of wine, I wouldn’t have tried to devour you.”

“So you’re telling me if I want to round more bases I shouldn’t feed you?” he teased, merging into the far right lane toward the highway exit. No more than a couple miles up the road, he pulled into the parking lot of a popular Italian restaurant.

“Are you allowed to talk about baseball so much when you’re a basketball player?”

“Good question. I can count on you to keep my secret, right?” He closed his door and walked around the front of the car to hold my door open. I had to admit, I was already getting used to that routine. He pulled me up from the seat so I was facing him with his long arms bracketing me on either side.

“Hmm, I don’t know. That’s an awfully big secret to keep. What do I get?” My eyes moved to his lips. Here we were in yet another public place and all I could think about was jumping on him again. He must have had the same thoughts since he lowered his mouth to mine. This time the kiss was probably what our first attempt should have been. It was tender and sweet and slow. So slow I thought I would melt into a puddle at his feet.

After a moment, he pulled away. “Are you sure you’re hungry?”

“Yes. No.” My words were a jumbled mess. “Wait, doesn’t food fuel the brain? I think I might need that. I’m still feeling a little bit tipsy from the wine.”

“Are you sure it’s the wine you’re feeling?”

“Nope. Not at all,” I answered as he put his arm around me and led me toward the restaurant.

The innuendos and sexual tension that still radiated between us made dinner a very pleasant experience. Our conversation flowed easily as we exchanged first date bios. We caught up on things we had missed out on while we weren’t friends. A lot of what he said I already knew since I had basically watched him from afar over the years. I almost regretted admitting that juicy tidbit considering how thrilled he looked.

Eventually the conversation moved to our classes. We each had professors who were particularly difficult.

I was happy to hear that Dalton didn’t have classes like Intro to Basket Weaving. I’d heard that the school went easy on student athletes where academics were concerned. But Dalton definitely took his classes seriously and was smart. He was majoring in business, because he thought it would help him later in life after basketball ended or if, God forbid, it didn’t work out for him. He was definitely realistic about the future. Not that it dimmed his aspirations.

I was no different except for our goals. He had NBA dreams, while I wanted to secure a position in a museum where I could pore over art all day. One of Dalton’s admirable qualities was that he wasn’t afraid of hard work, especially if it got him to where he wanted to be.

Our conversation turned playful when we started talking about animals. We both preferred dogs to cats. I confessed that my feelings weren’t based on actual experience, since I’d never owned my own pet. Dalton had a tough time wrapping his brain around that one.

“So you never got a pet? Not even a gerbil or a goldfish?”

“Nope. Not even a stray cat. You remember the apartment complex Mom and I lived in. They always had a ‘no pets’ policy.”

“That’s right. I do remember that. That sucks. My parents gave me Riley for Christmas the year I turned fifteen. It was instant love. Right after our dog, Gretchen, died. Do you remember her?”

I nodded. I did remember Gretchen. She was the closest I ever came to having a pet of my own.

“She was a great dog, but Riley’s special.”

“Like runs-into-the-walls-and-tries-to-eat-his-own-tail special?” I teased.

“He has been known to chase his own tail, but that doesn’t mean he’s not wicked smart. Take his fixation with my mom’s shoes and no one else’s for example. We all feel he blames her for sending me away to college.” He pulled his phone out to show me a picture of a beautiful golden retriever gnawing on a woman’s pump.

“Maybe he just likes the taste of the leather of her shoes better. You’re going to have to give me more than that.”

He tapped his chin for a moment, thinking. “Got it. Riley can play basketball.”

“Hmm, resorting to fibbing now?” I asked after he paid the check and helped me into my jacket.

“No, seriously. He’s a good shot.”

We left the warmth of the restaurant behind, moving quickly to his car.

I shook my head, climbing into the vehicle. “You’re such a goofball.”

“I’ll have to prove it to you one of these days.”

He smiled as he closed his door and started the car. The quiet intimate atmosphere was a bit awkward at first after the restaurant. I couldn’t help thinking about our kiss at the winery. A new wave of heat washed over me as the mental picture filled my head.

By the time we pulled into my driveway and were standing outside my front door, I was torn over whether to invite him in or not. I wanted to spend more time with him, but I knew I should kiss him and send him on his way. I wasn’t the type who gave it up that quickly. If I had sex with him tonight, chances were he would move on to his next conquest, and I would feel like a total tramp.

He pulled me close for a good-night kiss. His lips were warm and soft as they settled on mine. I couldn’t help moaning slightly as his tongue swept into my mouth. A cold blast of wind blew against us, but I barely noticed, not wanting the kiss to end.

Dalton took matters into his own hands and pulled away. “You better get inside before you catch pneumonia. Can I see you tomorrow?”

“I work until nine.”

“That’s okay. We can grab a late dinner,” he said as another gust of wind whipped against us.

“Okay,” I answered through chattering teeth as he leaned in to give me one last kiss. This time he pushed me against the door so his body was blocking the wind. The cold became an afterthought as I felt every hard inch of him pushed against me. I struggled against my shaky resolve not to ask him in.

He pulled away. “Go inside. I’ll pick you up at Gruby’s tomorrow night.”

My hand shook as I fumbled to get my key into the lock. He placed his hand on mine, steadying it as the key slid effortlessly into the lock.

“What do you know? It slid right in,” he whispered into my ear. My knees nearly collapsed out from under me. He turned the doorknob and propelled me inside. I leaned against the door once I closed it, trying to catch my breath.

“Holy hell, that was hot.”

Dalton

Courtney was waiting for me when I pulled up in front of Gruby’s the next night. She opened the door of the restaurant and hurried to my car since the weather still sucked.

“Hey,” I said, placing a long, lingering, heated kiss on her lips. It had been less than twenty-four hours since we were together, but she was all I could think about. The text messages we exchanged throughout the day didn’t help matters. Now that we’d gotten past our initial hiccup, our texting had taken on a sizzling quality. I had quite the vivid imagination and Courtney had it working overtime.

Unfortunately my lack of concentration had carried over into basketball practice, earning me a chewing-out from Coach. That combined with a call from Dad had taken most of the wind from my sails. Having Court in my arms now made it all worth it. The feeling was foreign to me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d looked forward to any part of my day that didn’t involve basketball.

“Hey yourself,” she greeted me, breathing in a rush when I finally pulled back.

“I was thinking we could eat at this new steak restaurant I discovered a couple weeks ago.”