17
DESSERT’S ON ME
AERIS
When we get out of the car, the crisp air pervades my nostrils, and a slight breeze whispers over my skin, making the hem of my dress billow. The sorbet sky is clear with the exception of a few clouds, and if I look hard enough, I can faintly see a studding of stars throughout the backdrop of space.
Hayes leads me over to the center of the clearing, and once we find a nice spot to settle in that’s not ridden with rocks and overgrown roots, we plant our stake. There’s absolutely no one in the area, which gives us some much-wanted privacy. He begins to set out our spread on the checkered blanket, and I’m at a loss for words when the food keeps coming, like the basket is some bottomless hole.
There’s a fruit salad, a charcuterie board, two BLTs, a jug of lemonade, and a container of snickerdoodles. Everything looks homemade, and I surmise that Hayes must have employed his cooking skills.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, giving my knee a small squeeze.
I nod, because I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that a person can be so considerate. Wilder never took me on dates, and whenever I’d ask him why, he’d turn the narrative on me and tell me I was being too clingy, or that I was asking too much of him. He told me couples didn’t need to go on dates to prove that they cared for each other. He told me I should be grateful he even made time for me with his start-up business taking off.
Once I shake myself out of that depressing trip down memory lane, I notice the beads of sweat starting at Hayes’ hairline, the cords of his neck straining, the curl of his shoulders. He looks…nervous? That can’t be possible, right? I’m the least intimidating person in the tri-state area. Also, the man plays professional hockey for a living. Surely he’d be used to a little bit of nerves.
“Are you okay?” I ask, alarm dipping low in my belly.
He gives me a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”
“I’d be better if you weren’t sitting so far away from me,” I say, gesturing to the three large, square lengths of blanket between us. He’s close enough that he can extend his arm to reach me, but his body itself is practically on the other side of the blanket.
Upon my answer, he scoots closer to me, dousing me in that sandalwood scent of his. I’m close enough that I can see the soft, fluctuating pulse in his throat, see the swell of his chest as he breathes. The rays from the sun glisten over the strong arch of his cheekbones, painting his face in marigold brushstrokes. Most things are uglier up close, but not him. Not Hayes Hollings.
I pop a strawberry into my mouth. “You don’t need to be nervous.”
He gets to work on his sandwich. “What makes you think I’m nervous?”
“The way you’re avoiding me like I have the plague.” There’s no frustration in my voice, no judgment—it’s just a keen observation.
“Okay, maybe you make me a little nervous,” Hayes admits, crunching down on a ribbon of perfectly cooked bacon.
“I do?” I cock my head to the side, genuine curiosity breaking over the syllables.
“You do,” he reaffirms, covering my hand with his. “You’re amazing, Aeris. You’re one of my favorite people to be around. I’m not going to say you always know what to say, but you always know how to make me laugh. You make the dull days brighter. And I love how big your heart is, even when you wish it was smaller.”
I didn’t know Hayes felt that way about me. I’ve always had low self-esteem, which was only augmented thanks to Wilder. I really should forward him my therapy bill.
I must’ve gone brain dead for a few seconds because a frown manifests on Hayes’ lips.
“Was that too much?”
I shake my head, wrapping my fingers around his hand. “No, no. It’s just…nobody’s ever said anything like that to me before. Not my ex, not my parents…”
“I’m sorry that you’ve lived the majority of your life without knowing how extraordinary you are,” he says, pressing his forehead against mine, “but I’m glad that I got to be the first to tell you.”
My heart graduates from a jog to a sprint. “I’m glad you got to be the first too.”
“I, um, didn’t have a big speech prepared or anything, but I wanted to ask you to officially be my girlfriend.”
Girlfriend. That’s—that’s a big deal. A deal that I thought I’d be panicking over…but I’m not. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt surer of anything in my entire life. For once, I’m not thinking about all the ways things could go wrong. For once, I’m basking in the moment, and I’m letting my heart lead instead of my head.
“Hayes, I would love to be your girlfriend,” I reply, my body moving of its own accord to kiss him.
I impulsively wind my hands into his hair, running them over his scalp gently. His lips move against mine, and he runs his tongue over my teeth, the contact sending shockwaves into the pit of my stomach. His hands map the expanse of my curves as he holds me closer, relishing the moment, like he’s afraid to break away in case time will steal the memory.
I want him to touch me. I want him to kiss me everywhere, starting at my mouth, taking a snaking detour down the length of my body, and ending at my pussy. I squeeze my legs together, already feeling liquid desire lubricate my clit.
“I want you to touch me,” I say.
“I thought I was touching you.” He nods at his hands, which are still very much on my waist.
“I mean like…touch me, touch me.”
“You think I don’t want to touch you, touch you?”
I extract myself from Hayes’ grasp. “No?”
I’m expecting him to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches for the strawberry lemonade holding down one of the corners of the blanket.
He dips his index finger into the pink liquid, swirling it around for good measure, then holds it out in front of me.
“Suck,” he orders, his tone bringing a shiver to the surface of my skin.
“What?”
“Stop thinking. Just su—”
I do as he says, closing my lips around his finger, hollowing my cheeks and sucking.
An audible sound rolls out of Hayes, somewhere between a grunt and a groan. The cut of his biceps tautens, and his jaw clenches so tightly he might have pulverized his molars.
“What do you want me to say, Aeris? Do you want me to tell you how every time you flash me that better-than-sex smile of yours, I grow hard? How you’re the only thing on my mind when I have my hand wrapped around my cock in the shower? How I want those perfect breasts of yours in my mouth while you fuck my hand with your pussy?”
I lean forward just an inch, trailing my fingers up his leg, cupping the engorged bulge in his pants. He hisses under my touch, and his breath verges on the edge of a moan.
“You don’t think these past weeks have been torture for me, Hayes? Trying not to think about your tongue in my cunt while I’m lying in bed at night, surrounded by the lingering smell of you on my clothes? Trying not to imagine what you look like coming?” I say, a spark of uncontrollable want lighting a fire under my feet. “You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about your breath growing faint, your muscles tensing so hard that sweat breaks out over every inch of you, and the way your eyes will cloud with breakneck need when you ride out your orgasm.”