“I’m right here silly,” I say while tugging on his back pocket, my Pac-Man bracelet dancing with my slight wrist movement.
Turning to walk backwards, swinging his guitar to his back, he grabs both my hands and pulls me towards a building with the sign Smitten’s. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look?” he asks with an adorable grin and a twinkle in his green eyes.
Tonight I’m wearing one of my new outfits. I’m also a little more made up than I usually am because I’m meeting River’s friends and family. Changing my clothes after our shopping spree, I chose a black lace swing camisole, cream-colored jeans, black high-heeled boots, and my leather jacket. Changing my underwear into something a little sexier, I had to go without a bra because of the thin spaghetti straps, but it really isn’t even noticeable. My hair is down, but a little fuller than I usually wear it, and I’m wearing makeup complete with blush, shadow, liner, mascara, and lip-gloss. The electric force I feel when I’m with him is back from the sight of his slight smile, and goosebumps run up and down my body.
“Actually, you didn’t,” I say, moving my head so my hair sways side to side.
He stops and I almost walk right into him. “Even with all that makeup you still look perfect,” he says, still clasping both of my hands together, dunking his head, and touching his nose to mine.
“What? You don’t like makeup?” I ask, but I’m not in least bit offended because neither do I.
Standing together on the sidewalk, he slides his nose to my ear. “I didn’t say that. I just think you look amazing with or without it.”
He brushes his lips against mine ever so lightly and then turns to catch the door for me. The building has a set of double glass doors and one oversized window with the name Smitten’s blazoned across it. I walk in first. Red brick walls border the large square room. There is a stage to the left, the bar is all the way in the back, and the wall on the right is lined with chairs and sofas. A large mirrored sign behind the bar is framed in wood and says ‘Smitten’s’. High-top tables are scattered throughout the room, and a small dance floor is in front of the stage. An archway to the back right has a sign mounted above it that reads ‘Restroom’, and an archway to the back left has a sign hanging above it that reads ‘Poolroom’. The place actually does look like a local neighborhood bar.
With his hand on the small of my back, he starts to guide me toward a grouping of different shaped chairs and a big black sofa with a wooden coffee table separating them. Pointing in that direction, he starts to say, “Everyone’s over . . .” but before he can finish his sentence, a very cute, young copper-haired woman comes running up to him, throws her arms around him, and gives him a big kiss on the cheek.
River drops my hand to steady her and hugs her back, practically lifting her off the ground. I know immediately this petite beautiful thing must be his sister, Bell. The resemblance is uncanny. They could pass for twins except her eyes are a much more vibrant green color and she has red streaks in her light copper-brown shoulder length hair. She’s also quite a bit shorter than her brother. River returns his sister’s affections with ease, and I see how much they adore each other.
Setting her down, he moves back slightly to rest his guitar against one of the four columns bracing the center of the room. He blindly locates my hand and laces his fingers with mine. She breaks their embrace and thumps him on the chest. “Where have you . . . ?” She doesn’t finish as her eyes flicker to our fingers. Her smile turns even bigger, and she eyes us curiously. She may even have a bit of confusion mixed in her very bright green eyes. She actually looks at our hands like she has never seen her Irish twin brother holding hands with a girl.
Looking at River, she coyly remarks, “When you texted me you had someone you wanted me to meet, I just assumed it was a guy.”