Chapter 8
This time, riding in the back of the cab was a lot more comfortable. Having his arm around her during the opening act had been amazing, and it gave him the confidence to do it again now. She leaned into him again as she'd done earlier, and his heart started flying once more.
And they'd kissed, too! Their first real kiss.
While he'd practcially memorised the way her lips had felt against his during their non-real kisses, and had fantasised countless times about kissing her for real...nothing compared to how it had actually felt. The explosion of passion and tenderness and desire, knowing she'd wanted the kiss as much as he had, the freedom of not having to hold back his real feelings for her...it'd been unlike anything he'd experienced before, and he wanted so much more of that. He couldn't wait until he got to kiss her again.
The flirty, uncertain tension at the beginning of the night had been...exciting and intoxicating, but he was finding he much preferred this, this new feeling that was hard to describe, but it felt like...well, honestly, it felt like when they would hang out as friends except now he was allowed to kiss her and he didn't have to hide his feelings for her.
Clark couldn't resist the urge to place a gentle kiss on her hair near her temple. Her hair against his lips was so soft. Suddenly, he worried that it had been too intimate a gesture, especially for the first date, but then she snuggled in even closer and reached over his lap to grab hold of his opposite hand.
He closed his eyes and tried to soak in every minute detail of this moment. He never wanted to forget it, especially the insanely distracting way she was tracing her fingertips along the back of his hand as she held it in both of hers. If anyone could die happy from just having their hand held, it would be him.
"You know..." she started, and she pushed back a little against his chest and turned so she was looking at him. She bit the corner of her bottom briefly and then said, "I wanted to go on this date so badly, wanted so desperately for it to go well...that I went to Cat for help." She scrunched her nose in that adorable way she did when she was a little embarrassed.
"You did?!" He tried to temper the surprise in his voice, but he couldn't quite manage it. And it probably didn't matter anyway, because an admission like this...she was trying to let him know how much she'd wanted to go despite his massive first date planning faux pas.
"I spent the entire day listening to Pearl Jam songs on repeat and memorising the lyrics to impress you," he blurted out in response.
"You didn't?" She gasped, and started laughing, swatting him on the chest playfully, but he couldn't help but notice she'd also looked a bit flattered.
"I did." He nodded, laughing with her. "I borrowed the CDs and got my grunge fashion advice from Jimmy...but he failed to mention that my jeans should have been ripped."
"Yeah, I might have noticed that." She giggled and his pulse skittered.
They traded a few tales of their reactions to the songs and lyrics, and by the time the cab pulled up in front of Lois' apartment building, they had both dissolved into a fit of giggles, Lois clinging to his flannel shirt and laughing into his chest. The feeling was so magical, he almost wanted to tell the cabbie to go around the block another time.
"We're here," he said, giving her shoulder a small squeeze with the arm he still had around her.
She sat up and wiped the tears from her eyes, making the smoky effect of her eye makeup even smokier though messier. "Clark, let me get the cab fare, please?" she said, a hand still on his chest.
He smiled and nodded and waited patiently for her to pay before they both got out. As they headed up the steps to her building, his hand found the small of her back, and he could have sworn she might have slowed her pace just a little so that it pressed more firmly against her.
When they reached her door, he let his hand drop while she fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked the door. Once inside, she dropped her things on the side table and turned to lock the door again behind them.
"Well, we're here," she said a bit breathily as she gestured with one arm to her living room.
Things felt slightly awkward now after their closeness in the car, and he guessed that it had to do with the fact that they were alone inside her apartment—not unlike any other night—but this time they were dating. On a date. Technically, still their first date, and while he was confident both of them tacitly agreed on the boundaries, this was still unfamiliar territory. And there was a lot of ground between kissing and...boundaries.
She turned to him and smiled an awkward smile, and he was reminded... "Your, uh, eyes got a little smudged..." He brought a finger up to his cheekbone to indicate. "I mean, you look fine. More than fine—you're beautiful—I uh...thought you might want to know?"
"Oh! Uh, thanks. Yes! Thank you...and thank you." Her hand went to her face and she was blushing, though he wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or his butchered compliment. "I'll just go...tidy up." She gestured toward her bathroom and headed that way.
"I'll make the coffee," he called after her.
"Thanks," she called back.
Clark took a deep breath to try and centre himself. He could make coffee in Lois' kitchen, had done so dozens of times. And when he got to the kitchen, he pulled out the filters, filled the carafe with water, and...hesitated when he reached for the coffee. Did he make regular or decaf? Was it presumptuous to make regular and assume they'd stay up late into the night talking like they often did as friends?
Or would it be better to make decaf? Did Lois even have decaf? No...she didn’t. So...tea? Should he make tea? Why was this so hard?
He pushed the bag of coffee aside and started digging through her tea choices. He thought he'd just bought her some tea a few months ago for Christmas, but he couldn't...oh, there it was. Sitting on the countertop with the bow still on it. He smiled. He guessed that meant they'd been spending more time at his place lately, because he surely would have opened this by now.
"All set?" she asked, and he startled slightly, not realising she'd come to join him in the kitchen and was standing behind him.
"I, um..." He turned to face her and his breath caught. "Wow."
She ducked her head and looked down at her tank top, pyjama pants, and white socks. "What?"
"You look fantastic."
"Clark," she said softly, a protest in her voice. "I'm not wearing any makeup, and you literally saw me wear this last week during movie night."
"Yeah."
"Yeah, so I can't look that great."
He nodded as he continued staring. "Last week, I wasn't..." Allowed? Was that the right word? "We weren't dating last week," he let out on a breath.
"Oh," she whispered, and he could hear her heart start racing again.
He couldn't take his eyes off her as she tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear and stepped up to the counter beside him. Really close beside him. He blinked and tried to focus on what he was doing instead because he didn't want to make her uncomfortable by just staring at her all night.
What had he been doing? Right. Tea. Or...coffee?
"Di—" His voice cracked, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Did you want tea or coffee?"
She didn't answer right away, and he looked up when her hand came to cover one of his. Their eyes met, and it seemed like time stood still for a moment. He wasn't sure he was breathing. Her lips were ever so slightly parted and her eyes kept drifting to his mouth. And then time caught up and they both leaned in and her lips touched his, tentatively at first, and then when he kissed her back and brought his hands up to her face, she pressed more insistently against his mouth as though she couldn't get enough of him. He couldn't either, get enough of her as he moved his lips against hers like a dozen soft caresses. Her hands found their way behind his neck, urging him on. He found himself needing to do a mental check that he wasn't actually floating because it sure felt exactly like floating. And finally, he slowed his pace and then reluctantly pulled away slowly, his hands falling gently, slowly along her neck and shoulders and arms to settle around her waist.
"Wow," she said, breathless as her forehead came to rest against his.
"Yeah," he agreed, just as breathless.
"You should have asked me out a lot sooner."
He let out a soft, self-conscious chuckle, feeling her breath mix with his in the small distance between. "Would you have said yes?" he asked tentatively.
"If I'd known it could be like this," she practically whispered. She turned her head slightly and straightened a bit, looking away for just a second. "I'd like to say yes, but if I'm honest, I don't know."
"Well, fortunately, you said yes to tonight." He felt himself being drawn back to her lips.
"Fortunately..." she echoed, her eyes watching his lips...and then she grinned. "Even though you asked me to Pearl Jam." She giggled in the space between them.
"I panicked!" He laughed, absolutely thrilled that she hadn't moved away yet. Could they stay like this all night?
"How do you panic-buy $200 worth of tickets to a band you hate?"
"The gal I asked out? She's worth every penny and then some."
