^ the dimples on this man.
On the first day of second grade I met Peter. To this day I can picture what he wore; a pale blue and yellow stripped t-shirt and blue worn overalls. His sneakers were brand new, New Balance or Adidas—I don't quite remember. His round glances were perched on his tiny button nose, flushed cheeks showing slight embarrassment and his shyness. He had moved here from a few towns over in the middle of summer.
He's always been like a brother to me—a brother that I never had. Overly protective when it came to middle school and high school crushes but unlike most siblings, I told him just about everything. It took some time for Cecilia to warm up to Peter, insisting that his glasses reminded her of Harry Potter and she somehow hated Harry Potter growing up. It was childish, but we were only little kids.
The older we all got the closer we became. Our personalities clashing occasionally, but we never got into fights or arguments. Only once did I ever get angry with Peter and it was because he tugged on my ponytail too hard. I didn't speak to him for a week. That was in the fourth grade.
Our friendship was tested on that warm day in May when I called him. He was panicked, rushing to aid me in my time of need. He sat in the car with me for hours, long after the sun set. I didn't do much talking; rather I sat there and hysterically cried while he tried to ease my pain by telling awkward jokes. Eventually, I laughed at a few.
"Whatever this is," he told me, "we'll get through this together. That's what best friends do."
I told him the truth, spewing it out a second time—even then it didn't feel real. Reality hit me the night I told my parents. Unlike my parents' disappointed and sad reactions, Peter was fuming. He had threatened to drive to the city himself and beat Austin with a baseball bat. This made me laugh too.
* * *
Peter sat on a metal folding chair in the corner of the room, muttering as he reads the newspaper. He went on tangents about politics and the drama going on in town. Leave it to him to know the latest drama considering he hears it all at the coffee shop he works at.
I flip through a Vogue magazine that my mother is unreasonably subscribed to. Everything from front to back is far too expensive for me but it's nice to gaze at the different colors and styles. Like flowers, different styles come with the different seasons.
Lingering in the back of my head is the kiss Harry and I shared a few nights ago. Normally my thoughts are clouded by the crippling anxiety I have about paying bills, but lately it's all about him. Even the simplest memory of him makes a smile tip on my lips.
As if my thoughts were pulling him in, I was surprised to see him walk into the store. The bell rang as the door shut behind him, a warm, salty breeze flowing through the store.
"Hi, Diana."
Naturally, I looked over to Peter, seeing him rise from his seat. I looked back at Harry and happily greeted him. He's clad in black jeans and a plain gray t-shirt. He shoves his hands into his pockets and comes up to the counter, close enough for me to see the perfect green irises.
"Would you like to get lunch with me?" Harry questioned.
I blushed wildly, about to respond when the bell rings again. This time, however, my mother walks in, carrying a heavy looking bag of soil. My heart jumps in my chest, eyes widening when I look over to Peter.
It's like he reads my mind.
"I'll man the fort," Peter smirked. "Hi, I'm Peter."
Harry and Peter shook hands. "I'm Harry. It's nice to finally meet you. Diana's mentioned you quite a lot," Harry said, genuinely.
"She's the best person in the world, isn't she?" Peter chuckled.
Harry's smile spreads wider, emerald eyes casting a sexy gaze into mine. I feel my blood running hotter than ever. "She truly is."
With my mother oblivious to the commotion at the front of the store, Harry and I sneak out. Peter's managed the store by himself a few times and my mother adores his humor, so they get along fine.
The cool sea breeze rushes past us as Harry leads me down the sidewalk to his car. Like a gentlemen, he opens the door for me and motions for me to get inside. I don't hesitate, knowing that the faster I get away from this flower shop, the more excited I feel. Just being with him is like an adventure, but deep down I can't help but wonder when this adventure will end.
To my surprise, Harry pulled up to the park. Open green fields, pathways for people to walk. A few people were walking around with their dogs, others playing in the grass with their toddlers. One girl was laying on a blanket, staring up at the clear blue sky.
"The park?" I questioned, amused. Harry glanced over at me, smirking as if he had a secret - or maybe he was just this sexy all the time.
He chuckled and shrugged, "I packed us lunch. Figured it'd cut back on the time to get food made for us. Come on, petal."
My heart skipped a beat. Petal? I followed Harry from his car, watching how his muscles flexed as he laid out a small blanket for us on the soft green grass. He put the food—packaged in ziplock bags, stuffed into a few plastic bags—onto the blanket and sat down, pulling out two water bottles and sandwiches.
"Ah, peanut butter and jelly," I giggled.
"Hey," he defended playfully, "no one ever said I was a chef."
"No, no," I insisted, "it's perfect."
He smiled boyishly and took a large bite of his sandwich, resting back on one of his hands. He watched me carefully, eyes squinted and slowly taking in my face as if trying to find something new. My eyes flicked up to his, a hot flush washing over my face.
"How's the shop?" he asked.
"It's alright," I shrugged. "Not so busy."
"Hm, I'm sure you're busy on the holidays."
Through small talk—lots of chatter about his family and friends—Harry and I finished our sandwiches and were nibbling on the grapes that he managed not to crush on the way here. I couldn't stop giggling as he tried to toss them into my mouth from where he sat, failing miserably and managing to hit me in the eye not once, not twice, but three times.
"How attractive," I laughed, brushing my hands on my dress.
Harry leaned closer, hand settling on my thigh. Even through the thin fabric I could feel his warmth. "You're very attractive," he smirked. "Especially when you catch those grapes in your mouth," he was definitely teasing me now. "Could make any man break into a sweat."
I laughed loudly, playfully shoving him away. But there was this moment where everything seemed to go in slow motion, the breath knocked out of me the moment he pins me down to the blanket. Under me I feel the awkward bumps of grass and uneven soil, but his hands run down my sides and thats suddenly all I feel. The magic of his touch completely hypnotizing.
His soft lips graze mine, fingers finding their way through my hair as his other hand remains on my hip. Emerald eyes stare back into mine, his eyelashes looking impossibly long, especially as sun beams dances off of them.
"What are you so scared of?" he teased playfully.
Suddenly, everything. I've never been scared of the universe and what lies beyond the stars we see in the night sky. I've never been scared of what some people call fate because I figured, why be afraid of something you can't control? But boy and I scared of this man right here. He's suddenly everywhere, not just on my skin, but under it to. His tipping smirk showing off those dimples that I seem to get lost in. And I guess maybe that's what it is. I'm scared that for some reason our fates are aligned like those stars in the night sky.
But are we actually in the same galaxy?
"I'm scared of getting hurt," I blurted.
Harry cocked his head to the side but he didn't look surprised by my words. Hell, everyone in this damn town knows I've had my heart taken and thrown into the train tracks and repeatedly run over.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Diana."
"You can't promise that," I groaned.
We're still in this compromising position. Harry doesn't seem to want to let up, but I'm not entirely annoyed by it. There's this strain in my chest though—my heart lurching forward but my brain pulling it back.
"I can't," he agreed nonchalantly. "What I can promise is that if you don't let me in you'll regret it."
"That's big of you to say—"
He interjected, "I'll regret not trying hard enough if you don't. And I'm trying, Diana."
"But. . . why?"
Harry brushed his fingers over my cheek, suddenly taking hold of my waist and effortlessly pulling me up with him. We sat close now, knees pushed together, his hands on my thighs.
"Because I like you," he chuckled. "Why can't you just accept that you like me too?"
"I do like you," I stated. "I'm accustomed to being alone." I reached over and popped a few grapes into my mouth. Harry sniggered a bit, the change of mood was blatantly obvious. I was done talking dramatics because it made it feel like something heavy was on my chest.
"Then I guess you'll have to let me take you on a third date." He took a small sip of his water and casually sat back, arms propping him up.
"I guess so." The words tumbled out of my mouth with ease. I've never found it so easy to flirt with someone even if it made me anxious and had my heart racing.
Back in the car, Harry had put on some CD that he insisted was his favorite of all time. A few of the songs I recognized, some I didn't. But we only got through four of them before we were parked a half a block away from the flower shop. I unbuckled but Harry quickly grabbed my hand.
"Wait." He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine, a long kiss that sent shockwaves through my veins. His tongue swiped slowly along my bottom lip, finally granting access when I opened my mouth a bit more. Our tongues rolled together with ease, tasting like grapes and peanut butter.
His hand dragged up my inner thigh, pushing up the thin my dress until his hand had met the fabric between my legs. A sharp breath passed my lips as he pulled from my mouth to look into my eyes, this only lasted a split second. I had nodded which gave him the go ahead to touch me even further.
I swallowed hard just as his lips pressed back to mine. Somewhere deep in my brain, I was happy for the tinted windows he had because my dress was hiked up practically to my waist and he was rubbing my apex in small strokes.
A quiet moan passed my lips despite me not wanting to give into the pleasure. For the first time in years someone else was giving me it.
Harry's hand dragged back down my inner thigh and rested on my knee. My eyes opened and he was pulling away, his body comfortably back in his seat.
"Harry," I exhaled, eyes heavy and dazed.
"Trust me—I go any farther and I'll be taking you in the backseat," he gripped the steering wheel tightly, his jaw clenching. "You deserve better than that, petal."
I closed my mouth, realizing it was still ajar. He glanced over at me again, but there was something behind his eyes that flickered. I took a shaky breath and adjusted my dress, taking my bag from the floor.
"Friday." He blurted out quickly. "I'll take you out to dinner?"
"How about you come over and we can make dinner?" I suggested. "I may have a tiny place but my kitchen is quite fancy."
He chuckled. "So, I'm meeting Eliana?"
I frowned. "Sorry—I didn't mean—"
He cut me off, "hey, it's fine, I'm all for it. If you're comfortable with it, that is."
I felt strange. He seemed oddly fine with meeting Eliana which was unlike most men. Then again, I'm generalizing. Like usual.
"I'll get Peter to take her—he won't mind."
"Whatever you want," Harry insisted.
I reached for the door handle but he stopped me once more. This time I didn't hesitate to lean over and kiss him, a proud smirk forming on his face. Dimples and all.
* * *
Hello! It's taken me over a month to update and it's because I've been CRAZY busy with school. I've been kind of growing out of this stage in my life too—but I love writing, so, I'm not giving up just yet. I have two ongoing stories right now that I'm going to finish!
I hope everyone is well!
Don't forget to comment and vote on this chapter for more. Can't wait for you all to see what's next 😉
Next update should be next week. x