The Sun and the Moon [Wattys 2015 winner]

Bonus: Ryan's Perspective

In the coffee shop, first meeting:

Ryan

I looked up to serve the next person in line and locked eyes with a violet pair that I would recognize anywhere.

Holy fuck.

Amelia Crowley. My wet dream.

Amelia Crowley, prom queen. Amelia Crowley, senior class president. Amelia Crowley, Harvard-bound.

Fuck.

I looked at her. Glossy dark mane of hair. Technicolor eyes. She was hot. H.O.T. All Bond girl hot, with a suit racing around her beautiful curves. Intelligent hot. Beautiful hot. She was my centerfold. My ideal. Shit.

And she walked into Southwinds, looking like a movie star. A full on pinup.

She could be mine now.

I haven't thought about her in years but it all came rushing back to me. The hottest girl in high school. The only one I had ever wanted. The one I dreamed of if I thought of my dream girl. She never looked at me in high school, but I was a freshman when she was a senior. And none of the shit had happened to me yet.

More than ten years later, I've grown up. And, it looked like, so did she. In all the right places.

She breathed out and words came out of those lush, full lips as she gave me her order.

And I was hard.

It was like I had not left high school and couldn't control my dick. Unbelievable.

I rung her up and took her card to swipe it. Same last name. I looked at her hand. No ring.

Game on.

I prayed for my pants to behave. Down boy. It was not the time.

As I handed her card back to her, she touched me. There was, honest to God, fucking electricity.

It was time to come up with a plan.

I put my nose back to the grindstone (or in this case, my straining dick to the counter, hoping to hide it) and handled the next person in line, the whole time aware of nothing but Amelia, standing off to the side.

She didn't recognize me, but I didn't care. I was going after her. She was going to be mine.

#

After the kiss in the parking lot

Ryan

I pulled my grandfather's 1968 Ford F-100 truck into my garage and closed the door.

Amelia Fucking Crowley. She still looked like a movie star.

I kissed her. I had wanted to do that for what, ten years? More? She tasted like Mexican food and hot girl. I had to see her again.

No. I needed to fuck her.

I headed out of the garage into my house and went straight to the shower to wash off the ocean water and salt.

I stripped off my clothes and turned on the water, waiting for it to warm up. It didn't take long and I stepped in, dipping my head to get my out-of-control hair wet, my muscles relaxed.

The warm water pounded my skin and I soaped up, washing my body clean, but my thoughts were anything but. Her eyes. Those gorgeous violet blue eyes. That hair. I wanted to weave my hands in her hair. That body.

Yeah, that body. Fuck me, a body made for guys to worship.

Nipped in waist. Amelia's curvy hot hips and ass. Gorgeous legs. Soft skin. Soft breasts. Soft hair.