It All Started With A Note

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven - Ivy

Leave my bedroom window open more often, huh? When I went up to bed, after Eric delivered me to my door, I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned for hours, before finally falling into a dream where Eric was reading me sweet nothings out of my romance novels and then he'd act them out. I'd done as he asked and left my bedroom window open. So I shouldn't have been surprised when I was awoken by a thump, as he jumped through my window yet again. Daylight streamed through the window, but I could tell it was still early.

He stood up and grinned at me, as I blinked up at him. I shook my head and buried it underneath my pillow. Eric chuckled and came over to sit beside me, on the edge of my bed. I rolled over and glared up at him, "You know, you've gotten awfully familiar with my bedroom and I don't know how I feel about that."

"Just embrace it." He tells me with a wink, before pushing me over so he could lay down beside me.

I grumbled, "What are you doing now?"

He bounced around, before settling, "I like your bed. It's comfy. I can't tell if it's the mattress that's so enticing or the person in it."

I blushed and told him, "You're so full of it."

He hummed, "Maybe, maybe not. So what are we doing today?"

"Excuse me? We?"

"You and me. We're going to spend the day together. So what do you want to do?"

I frowned, "Do I get a say?"

"What, you don't to hang out with me?" He actually looked hurt.

"It's not that. I just...I'm not used to making plans and I'm really not used to boys wanting to spend their Saturday with me."

He grinned, "So I'm special then."

I laughed, "Something like that."

His grin softened to a wistful smile, "You're beautiful. I love your smile."

I blinked and accused, "Ok, now I know you're full of shit."

He lost his grin, "You are beautiful. Who made you think otherwise?"

"Gee, I don't know. Maybe the fact that nobody has ever called me beautiful before. Maybe it's the fact that I've never been asked on a date. Nobody has ever tried to kiss me. I'll be eighteen next week and will be known as the most inexperienced, innocent eighteen year old in history."

Eric cleared his throat, "Well, I don't know why nobody has ever told you that you're beautiful before, but I'm telling you now. So cross that off your bucket list and you better believe me too. You are beautiful." He paused, obviously waiting for that to sink in, before he said, "I could help you cross off a couple other things on that list too..."

Wait, what other stuff? Dating and kissing? Was that what he was talking about? I watched as his eyes dipped to my lips. He wanted to kiss me, I realized. Wow. I wasn't sure how to process that information. He leaned closer, but paused. Was he expecting me to close the distance between us? Did I want to kiss Eric Porter? Yes, yes I definitely did, but I was scared. We were so different. He was popular and exceptionally good looking. I was practically invisible and only passable in the looks department, in my opinion.

Shit, he was still waiting on me. Crap, I hadn't brushed my teeth this morning. No way was I allowing my first kiss to happen when I had morning breath. I quickly scooted out of the bed and muttered, "Um, I'll be right back."

In the bathroom, after brushing my teeth, I gave myself a pep talk, in the mirror. During this talk, I realized what I was wearing. Crap. Eric had seen me in this! I only wore a thin, light green tank top and little, tiny shorts. You could pretty much see my nipples through the shirt and I'd never worn such short shorts in front of anyone before. Crap. I'd have to go back out there and he'd get a real good view of me then. I thought about wrapping a towel around my body, but that would look ridiculous. With a sigh, I went back to my bedroom only to find Eric getting ready to exit through the window.

He spotted me and said, "Hey, my mom is calling for me. I don't want her to catch me in your room." His eyes raked down my body and he seemed to have trouble swallowing. Then he forced his eyes back up to my face, "I'll ring your doorbell in an hour. Wear something comfortable and a good pair of walking shoes."

Then he was gone. Well, that's just great. In my panic about my morning breath, I missed out on the possibly of my first kiss. Maybe I should have just kissed him. I mean, it's not like he would have wanted one of those open mouth kisses, not as a first kiss. Right? Hell, I had no idea. I just knew that disappointment was settling all the way to my bones. The day wasn't over, however, and apparently I was spending it with Eric. I went to my closet to try to figure out what to wear. Was he taking me hiking or something? I settle for a pair of sports leggings and a t-shirt, but throw on an oversized hoody over it. I considered putting on makeup, but I didn't usually bother with the stuff, so why start now? If Eric was going to like me, then he was going to like me, for me.

It didn't take me long to get ready and then I began to pace, my nerves getting the best of me. I tried to lose myself in a book, while I waited, but couldn't focus on the words. I went down to the kitchen and made myself eat a granola bar, even though I wasn't hungry. My stomach was too twisted in knots to feel hunger. After I finished my granola bar, I went back up to brush my teeth again. When I came back downstairs I noticed the living room could use a good dusting, so I did that. I was just finishing up when the doorbell rang and my heart about jumped right out of my chest. Crap. I needed to calm down. This was just Eric. I barely knew him, so there should be no reason that my heart was racing at the thought of opening that door and seeing him again. Yet, that's exactly what was happening. I put my hand on the door knob and twisted it, feeling like I was twisting every nerve in my body at the same time. When I opened it and Eric stood facing me, I sucked in a breath as I took him in. He wore basketball type shorts and a hoody. He shouldn't have looked so good, but he did.

His eyes took a walk down my form, before he smiled and asked, "Ready?"

I wasn't sure what he was asking what I was ready for. Was he asking if I was ready to see him? The answer was yes. Was he asking if I was ready to spend the day with him? The answer was yes. Was he asking if I wanted him to kiss me? Again, the answer was yes. So it didn't really matter what he was asking. My answer was, "Yes."