The Moment of Letting Go

She blushes harder.

Damn, she needs to stop doing that! I like it a little too much …

My hand drops from her chin and I raise my back from the seat, propping my elbows on my legs. “I had hoped the same thing,” I admit, and then top it off with some humor. “I mean, come on, I didn’t try to talk you into staying in Hawaii just so you could spend all your time alone.”

She smiles, but then again, she never really stopped.

“But what about your job … or jobs?” she asks. “I guess I didn’t think about that,” she adds apologetically.

“Hey, don’t you worry about that,” I tell her with a wink. “Let’s just say I’ve sort of got vacation time of my own saved up—I can work around it.”

She seems to be pondering, her lips in a cute little pucker.

And then she gives in. “OK, but no more barbecues,” she says. “I’d rather see where you live than your friends.”

That takes me by surprise, but naturally I feel compelled to screw with her head. I grin and say, “Oh, so you wanna see my place? So soon?”

Her hazel eyes widen and she bumps my knee with hers.

“You are unbelievable,” she jokes. “Well, if that’s what you think, then you’re more full of yourself than I thought you were.”

I laugh and leave it at that.

When we arrive back at the resort, I walk her as far as the lobby, where we stop among the grandeur laid out in marble and expensive furniture and strategically placed plants. Tourists come and go from the nearby elevator. Sienna stands with her bag draped over one shoulder, her fingers interlocked down in front of her. Her long, dark auburn hair hangs loosely over her shoulders, dropping just below her breasts, and her bangs are cut short just above her eyebrows. Even unbrushed and a little rough at the ends from being in the ocean all day, it still looks soft enough I’d like to run my fingers through it.

“So what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?” she asks, beaming at me.

I raise a playful brow, cross one arm over my stomach and rub my chin with the other hand in pretend contemplation. “Hmmm,” I begin, “how about I pick you up at ten—is that too early?”

She shakes her head. “No, ten is perfect.”

“Awesome. I have to stop by the community center not far from here,” I say. “And then after that, I’m all yours.”

“Is that where the art event will be?”

I nod. “Yeah, but we won’t stay long,” I say casually. “I just need to check on a few things. I promised Melinda that I’d stop in—she’s like fifty, so don’t get any ideas.” Sienna blushes again, trying her best not to smile too broadly.

She thinks on it for just a fraction of a second.

“I look forward to it,” she says. “And I don’t mind how long we stay, for the record.”

“Great.” I can’t stop smiling.

Neither can she.

A hotel guest walks by carrying a cup of coffee in his hand and we both glance at him momentarily, probably for the same reason, just to stir the silence between us.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in the morning then,” she says.

Damn, I want to kiss her. It’s killing me!

She takes a step back, and even though I’m not exactly sure that’s a sign she doesn’t want me to, I don’t take any chances and I bury my hands in my pockets instead. Then I pull out my phone and run my finger over the screen.

“Want to give me your number?”

Her eyes light up, and that makes me smile.

I tap in her number as she tells me and I send her a text message. I hear her phone inside the bag on her shoulder alert her of the message and she reaches inside. I try to smother back my smile. I couldn’t help myself.

My stomach is a ball of nerves—I’ve never been this nervous around a girl before. What the hell is wrong with me?

Sienna looks down into her phone and her skin flushes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at ten,” I say, and leave it at that, walking away with my hands in my pockets, a permanent smile on my face, and her face permanently etched in my mind.





TWELVE

J. A. Redmerski's books