Contessa (81 page)

“
Choisie
,
”
I say with a satisfied grin, touching the necklace. He laughs at me.
“
Names?
”

“
Ashley and Stephanie.
”

“
Thank you,
”
I say as I pick the tomatoes out of a hard-shell taco.
“
I liked how you kissed me out there on the street,
”
I tell him, looking up at him coquettishly.

“
I liked it, too.
”

“
It
’
s my favorite kiss.
”

“
You
’
re drunk,
”
he chuckles. I smile and pick up a piece of lettuce and nibble on it.
“
You better eat more than that.
”

“
Did you ever kiss them like that?
”
As soon as I ask, I realize I might not be as comfortable with his answer as I was when I brazenly asked the question. I cringe for his response.

“
Should I lie?
”
He takes a bite of a quesadilla.

“
Nope,
”
I tell him, wanting to know the truth, but truly afraid of what he
’
ll say.

“
Yes, I did.
”
He studies my reaction intently. I try to keep a straight face. I asked for it, I know I did.
“
I totally did, Liv, but it never felt that good. I never felt for them a fraction of what I feel for you. I wasn
’
t sure I
’
d be able to catch my breath. My heart is still pounding.
”
He takes my hand and presses it underneath his shirt. My fingers touch his firm chest and feel the quick, heavy pulse beneath his skin.
“
And those are just the things I can put into words that won
’
t completely offend you.
”
I scratch his chest playfully, then run my nails down his torso slowly. He shivers and grabs my hand, pressing it against his thigh.
“
If I kissed a hundred girls like that, I promise you not a single one would have the effect on me that your kiss does. I love you.
”

“
I
’
d hate you if you kissed a hundred girls.
”

“
You could never hate me.
”

He kisses me again with passion and reverence. My thumb moves curiously, cautiously, but he again takes my hand in his, this time weaving his fingers between mine.

“
I have a feeling that you
’
re going to make me forget any of the girls before you.
”
He leans his forehead against mine and kisses my cheek.
“
And I don
’
t plan on there being any girls after you.
”

“
That
’
s sweet,
”
I tell him, feeling a catch in my throat.

“
But we may never find out if I don
’
t get you sobered up and home.
”

“
I
’
m not drunk.
”

“
No, but you
’
re not thinking clearly, either,
”
he says.

“
Yes I am.
”

“
Uh-huh,
”
he says sarcastically.
“
Please eat something more than lettuce.
”

“
Tell me you love me again,
”
I bargain with him.

“
I love you, Olivia Holland. I
’
ll love you even more after you
’
ve taken a bite of that.
”

I take a big bite.
“
So you love me more now?
”
I ask him before I swallow the mouthful of food.

“
I
’
ll love you even more after you finish eating that bite,
”
he says, laughing. I finish chewing it and swallow it.

“
Better?
”

“
I couldn
’
t love you any more than I do right now,
”
he tells me.

“
I bet you could.
”

“
I bet you
’
re right. If I could show you, Liv...
”
He doesn
’
t finish his sentence.

“
Show me,
”
I whisper.

He leans into me closely, his lips only inches from mine and angles my face to his.
“
Eat your dinner,
”
he says in his sexiest voice.
“
I
’
ll show you another day. And it will arguably be the best day of my life.
”

“
Better than today?
”

“
Better than today.
”

“
But you
’
re going to Columbia!
”
I squeal a little louder than I mean to.

“
Well,
”
he corrects me.
“
I got accepted. I still have to find the money.
”

“
Piece of cake,
”
I tell him.
“
I
’
ve got lots of it.
”

He smiles and kisses me, picking up the taco and feeding me another bite.
“
C
’
mon, we
’
ve got to go soon.
”

“
But the night is young!
”
I plead with him.

“
Not to your parents.
”
I frown before taking another bite of food.

“
We have forty-five minutes,
”
I whisper.
“
And we still have to make a stop.
”

“
Where?
”

“
Don
’
t worry. It
’
s fine. It might actually buy us some time.
”
I finish eating quickly, anxious to share my spontaneous surprise with him.
“
You ready?
”

“
I guess so.
”

“
We need a cab.
”

He follows me out of the restaurant and walks up to the door of a vacant taxi, opening it for me.

“
East Village,
”
I tell the driver.
“
7th and Avenue A.
”

“
We
’
ll never make it back in time.
”

“
Relax, it
’
s Kelly
’
s bakery. We need to get you a birthday cupcake.
”

“
Your dad
’
s sister?
”

“
Yes. I
’
ll just have her call Dad and tell him we
’
re on our way. He won
’
t mind.
”

“
You
’
re sure?
”

“
Positive. I
’
ll just tell him our dinner service was horrible–
”

“
Yes, at the taco shop where we were the only diners.
”

“
He doesn
’
t have to know that,
”
I laugh.

“
Your lies are getting out of control, Liv,
”
he says with a little humor and a little judgment.
“
I don
’
t know how you keep it all straight.
”

“
Oh, this is a tiny one.
”
I smile at him innocently. He puts his arm across my shoulder and pulls me into him. I close my eyes as the cab takes us to Kelly
’
s shop.

“
You
’
re not sleeping, are you?
”
Jon asks.

“
No,
”
I answer, a little startled at the sound of his booming voice, my ear resting against his chest.

“
Well, is this the place?
”

I open my eyes, surprised that we
’
ve already arrived. Maybe I
did
doze off.

“
Yeah, um. Yep,
”
I say with a little more energy. I scramble to find cash in my purse.

“
I took care of it already.
”

“
Oh,
”
I blush.
“
Thanks.
”

“
You were sleeping.
”
He laughs quietly, getting out of the car.

“
It
’
s been a long day,
”
I respond, stumbling a little on the curb as I step out. An invigorating cold breeze lashes across my face, breathing new life into me.
My second wind
, I think to myself and shake off the sleep. Jon takes my hand, leading me into the shop.
“
Hey, Kelly!
”
I say at the sight of my aunt.

“
Hey, Liv,
”
she says, squinting her eyes at me.
“
What are you doing down here so late?
”

“
It
’
s Jon
’
s birthday,
”
I explain happily.
“
I wanted to buy him a cupcake. Don
’
t worry, Dad gave us permission.
”

“
Well,
”
Jon says.
“
We just had dinner. I didn
’
t know about the cupcake stop, so I
’
m afraid we might not make it back by curfew.
”

I grin at his set-up, then look at my watch.
“
Wow, I didn
’
t realize it was so late.
”
I act worried, but I
’
m not.

“
What would you like?
”

“
Chocolate,
”
Jon says quickly.

“
Dark, milk or white?
”

“
Oh. Milk, I guess.
”

“
Livvy, lemon for you?
”

“
Of course. Lemon cupcakes are my favorite in the whole world,
”
I tell Jon.
“
Like, I really like strawberry, too. And she makes a spice one, but there is nothing better in the world than Kelly
’
s lemon cupcakes.
”

“
Okay,
”
Jon says simply, his voice much softer than mine.

“
What? I
’
m serious! Kelly, add another lemon one so I don
’
t have to share with him.
”

“
I believe you, baby,
”
he says. Kelly grabs a small box and puts in the three cupcakes we selected. She adds three more of varied flavors and seals the box with her signature sticker.

“
The rest are for your family,
”
Kelly tells me, handing me the box.
“
They
’
re on me. Enjoy.
”