Evangeline Lawrence has a secret. A big secret. One involving her birthday, the player, August Griffin, who's (almost) like a brother to her, and a kiss the night before he ran away. No one else knows about it, aside from August, of course, and Evan...
After dinner, I grabbed a bag of stuff from my car in the parking garage.
"August?" I ask, "Should I leave my car here overnight? I mean, I know it's a rental but..."
He looks at me, "Yeah, I think that would be better. You already paid to park here anyway and we can take the subway. Also, make sure you're parked next to an expensive car."
I shoot him a confused look, "Why?"
"So that the potential thief looks at their car and then at yours and goes, 'I'd rather steal the good car than the fuçking dull car!'"
I elbow him but sigh, "Get in, we're going to find our fancy car."
Once we find a 'fancy car' and park a space down from it, August grabs my hand.
"Ann, I'm taking you somewhere. Okay? Good."
I roll my eyes but oblige. We walk down the lit-up streets. The sky is clear but almost no stars are visible what with almost no sky and light pollution. Still, the sky has a pinkish tone to it and the light from the scrapers and the streetlights reflect onto the pavement giving the whole thing a magical feel.
August leads me into a little ice cream parlor. It's so small that you could pass it and never know you did. We walk in and the older Latina woman behind the counter looks up.
As soon as she sees August, her face breaks into a wide smile and she says with twinkling eyes, "August, so finally you bring me una buena chica?" To me she says, "You name Ann?? August tells me 'bout you. You very pretty, mi amor. You good for August."
I blush and then look at August. Who is this woman? Why didn't he tell me about her? How does she know his real name? I thought that people around here only knew him as Austin.
"Carla lives downstairs from me in the condo apartment thing. When I first moved in, she brought me homemade tamales and we kinda hit it off. She also owns this place. She speaks mostly Spanish, but some English too. She's also the only person in this city aside from you that calls me 'August.'"
I laugh. August sure loves his tamales. It's been a while since I saw August embrace his Latino heritage (one of his grandparents was from El Salvador) and it's good to see.
His warm brown eyes are smiling, his almond hair rumpled slightly from wind, his lightly tan face that usually shows off his square jaw is more rounded and relaxed as his cheeks bulge out from smiling. Across his face is the lightest sprinkle of freckles, usually not visible.
The woman reaches over the counter and hugs me. She steps back and then takes a good look at me, taking in my medium length brown/red hair, rosy cheeks and grey eyes. Her eyes land on the freckles dotting my face and she smiles even bigger.
"Come, come. Get you're ice cream. On the house." she tells us.
August opens his mouth to argue but she cuts him off, "You and Ann eat on house. No choice."
For a short, round woman wearing an apron with "We all scream for ice cream" written on it, she sure can be intimidating.
"Bien, pero la próxima vez ..."
I didn't know August spoke Spanish that well but I guess he had been learning.
We choose our ice cream, him getting cinnamon-chocolate and me getting lavender-honey, both of us getting a cup.
We sit on a bench in front if the store. There are still cars, cabs, and people everywhere but it's quieter.
I take a bite of my ice cream and moan softly as the creamy goodness slips down my throat. The taste of lavender overwhelms my taste buds in the best way possible. I think I found my new favorite ice cream.
August stares at me, wide eyed. His ice cream sits forgotten next to him.
"What?" I whisper.
He's leaning in now, his eyes trained on mine yet they keep slipping down to my lips. They're alert yet lusty at the same time and I'm pretty sure mine mirror his. I set my ice cream down without looking at it and he inches forward slowly without breaking eye contact. His eyes tell me that if I want him to stop, all I have to do is say something and he will. But I don't.
My eyes flutter closed as I feel August get even closer.
Then it happens. August presses his lips to mine softly, his chapped lips moving gently. The kiss is so sweet and innocent. I can taste his cinnamon-chocolate ice cream. I can also taste him.
His tongue moves gently over my lips, licking away any ice cream that was on them. My lips part and suddenly our kiss isn't so innocent. Our tongues meet and tangle, dancing together. Our lips crash and lock together furiously, welcoming each other home. He bites at my lips, my tongue, and I moan and sigh into his mouth. His lips eat up my sounds and I can't help but want to sink into him.
My hands tangle into his hair, locking themselves there as I try to pull him closer. His hands slip under my dress, which had somehow slipped up my legs as I straddle his lap.
After a while, the need to breath overpowers the need to kiss each other and we pull apart, keeping our foreheads touching. We're both breathing heavily. His hands move up my body, leaving a trail of fire burning in their wake. They cradle my neck and my head as August places gentle kisses on my nose and cheeks.
My heart is thumping so loudly in my chest, I'm afraid it will break out of my body.
His face brakes into a breathtaking, ear-to-ear smile.
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Oh Em Geeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They KISSED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (me doing a happy dance in my head)
