I try to subtly adjust the lower half of myself. This conversation definitely isn’t hot enough to warrant an untimely boner. “That’s why I need them.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna need some proof to believe you.”
Oh, fuck.
Her words transmit an unruly tingle to my now-throbbing cock, and I absentmindedly white-knuckle the steering wheel. I need to change the subject before I’m too hard to focus on driving. “How’s work?”
“It’s great! The captions go by pretty fast when I’m on a roll. My boss lets my voice shine through so they’re less preachy and more relatable. We’re doing a campaign that puts out a new recipe for smoothie bowls each day of the month of September. It’s called ‘Let’s Smoothie-Move to Better Health.’”
“A smoothie bowl? Isn’t that just a smoothie…in a bowl?”
A grin nudges her mouth. “Yep! But you can decorate them. You can dye the açaí blue and style it into waves, then sprinkle your granola on and use it for the sand. I like to add little blueberry dolphins in there for a special touch.”
“I didn’t know you were so artistic.”
“Oh, gosh. Hardly. I have the artistic talent of a toddler. But I do love anything that has to do with arts and crafts. I can’t say I’m very good at ceramics, though. My so-called mug turned out to have five holes in it and the durability of a wafer. Even the oven couldn’t save it.”
I’d probably get two full sips out of that mug, but I’d buy it off Aeris in a heartbeat if I could. I’ve always loved when people aren’t afraid to talk about their passions. And something about always having a little piece of her when she’s away makes my heart swoon.
I don’t swoon, okay? No part of me has ever swooned. I brood. That’s it.
“Why a vegan company? If you’re not vegan.” I noted the way she inhaled the bacon I made for her during her hangover.
“I don’t know. It pays the bills? And I guess it’s interesting to hear people’s perspectives about the meat industry. They make some good points, you know? And that documentary about how hot dogs are really made was pretty scarring.”
“So, you’re a non-vegan working for a vegan company, you love flowers, Taylor Swift, cats, and making questionable art pieces. What else don’t I know about you?” The ever-present flapping sensation in my chest feels a lot like infatuation. Or maybe it’s heartburn.
“Oh, um…” She hesitates, scrunching her nose like she’s thinking extra hard. “I refuse to eat the orange Skittles because they taste the worst. I have an irrational fear of mascots. My favorite color is green, but specifically forest green. I cheated one time on a math test in high school, and I still have nightmares about it. I secretly love reality television. And…I think that crocheted bucket hats are the best fashion trend to have ever existed.”
I can’t help but laugh, because that was the most Aeris answer to come out of her mouth. “That explains a lot.”
“Explains what?”
“How weird you are.”
Not weird. In fact, all of those facts are going into my memory bank as we speak. Aeris usually has a way of distracting me, but I know I’ll remember every detail she told me.
Aeris sticks her tongue out. “You like it.”
“I love it,” I agree, and a blush stains that alabaster skin of hers. A blush that not even one of her well-angled head turns can hide.
“What about you? What’s the superstar NHL player hiding from his fans?” Her brows dip up and down as she smirks mischievously.
I know she meant it as a joke, but now I can’t stop thinking about the career-ending secret I’ve been harboring. You know, the one that brands our relationship with a capital “Fake.” My confidence has taken an unforeseen plunge, and nerves wriggle around in my body.
“I think mint chocolate-chip ice cream tastes like toothpaste. I’m deathly afraid of heights. My favorite color is gold, like the little flecks in your eyes. When I was younger, Faye’s hamster seemed lonely, so I brought him over to play with the neighbor’s dog. The dog ended up eating him right in front of me, and I never told Faye what happened. And…I’ve always secretly wanted a nipple piercing.”
“Honestly? I’m all in support of you getting a nipple piercing.”
I slap my hand against the steering wheel. “Right! Thank you. The guys were giving me so much shit for it. Piercings are hot.”
“I’ve never found guys with piercings that hot, but I think you could definitely change my mind,” she flirts.
“Aeris, was that a compliment?”
“And…I revoke it.”
“Nope, you can’t. You already gave it to me. I’ll cherish it for the rest of my life,” I declare, pretending to snatch her invisible compliment out of the air and place it over my heart.
Instead of fighting me, she only rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the hint of a smile on her lips.
“Do you want to work at your job for the rest of your life?” I ask.
Aeris fiddles with the scalloped trim on her dress. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. I have this unrealistic fantasy that I’ll meet a billionaire at the grocery store when we bond over our love for pickles, and that he’ll be so obsessed with me that he’ll offer me a room in his mansion,” she says. “And then we’ll eventually get married, adopt five cats, and have two children. Preferably a boy and a girl.”
I’m not a billionaire, and I don’t particularly like pickles, but I think I am obsessed with Aeris. Just a little bit.
“That sounds very…romance-y. Let me guess, he’s also a Mafia boss who’ll kill anyone who touches you?”
Aeris gasps dramatically. “You read romance books?”
“My sister does,” I correct. “Though I’m not going to lie and say I haven’t read one while taking a bubble bath before.”
“Knowing you read has made you ten times more attractive.”
“Ten times? That seems like a lot,” I mutter.
She penetrates me with a fully loaded stare, one that would be frightening if she didn’t look so adorable. “Yeah, I subtracted four points for being annoying. And cocky. And freakishly persistent.”
I feign hurt. “But those are all of my best qualities.”
“Best might be stretching it,” she says.
I click on the turn signal and take a right. “If you have a different opinion, I’d love to hear it.”
“Nice try. I’ve already inflated your ego enough today.”
“Fine, but I’m only letting you off the hook because we’re here.”
When we round the hill, a large glade comes into view. The space sits amidst a bank of lowlying boulders and elderberry bushes, bordered by a copse of sycamores and a thick, blanketed underbrush. Sunbeams stream through the window and fall in lacework over Aeris’ shoulders, highlighting that perfect side profile of hers, weaving into strands of her hair. Her eyes widen upon taking in the picture of paradise, and then she looks at me with affection so strong that it strikes my heart, maybe even stopping it for a second.