Page 38 of A Hexcellent Chance to Fall in Love

Nerves chew through my stomach like hungry termites as I get ready for Pepper to come over.

Yes, she’s been to my house before, but tonight is different.

At least I hope tonight will be different.

For weeks we’ve spent a lot of time together, but the amount of that time that we’ve actually been alone has been minimal—so tonight I’m kind of hoping for a little more.

That’s one of the only reasons I agreed to this movie night when she gets to pick, no questions asked.

Her goal has been to “turn me over to the dark side,” so to say I’m anxious—no, terrified—by her potential pick of films is an understatement.

I requested not too much gore, and knowing Pepper, she will at least take this under consideration, but it still leaves a lot of choices on the table.

That all said, this Halloween season has so far been my best one in years—but usually the blues don’t hit me until after it’s over, so I guess I’ll see if it holds out.

If Pepper is still around—which I’m hoping she will be—she might turn me over to that dark side and take Halloween off my three least favorite holidays of the year list.

I really should’ve put some stronger requirements on this movie we’d be watching. How does one get in the mood for a serious make-out sesh after witnessing someone get disemboweled? Is that even possible?

Movies aren’t real, is what Pepper would say, but will she still be saying that if I’m puking up popcorn?

Blood and guts are gross. It’s why I didn’t ever consider being a doctor.

No thank you. It’s enough that I have to deal with my own bleeding issues once a month—which is complete bullshit. Periods are bullshit.

Maybe I could convince her not to watch the movie at all? Would that be weird? Hey, come to my place and we can watch a movie together, except when you get here, instead of actually doing that, I plan to try and get you naked.

Okay, yes, that sounds terrible, which is another reason I’m glad people aren’t able to read my thoughts, because how embarrassing would that be? However, now with that visual in my head, I can barely concentrate on what still needs to be done.

My cheeks are hot as I slip into some comfy sweats—can’t appear like I’m trying too hard—but I also made sure to use the lotion Pepper said she likes when I got out of the shower, because I don’t want to appear like I’m not trying at all.

It was such a good idea to let the kids go a little early tonight, so I’d have time to come home to clean up and change before Pepper gets here.

In the kitchen, I heat up some oil to make the popcorn.

Would a Riesling pair well with it? Or maybe a Moscato?

Salty and sweet seem like a good balance.

The kernels in the pot go ping, ping, ping against the metal as I pull the cork on a bottle of wine to let it breathe.

Which also conjures up a silly image in my head of a wine bottle actually taking deep breaths, and I laugh. Licorice just looks at me.

“What? It’s funny,” I tell him, but he isn’t amused. He plops down on the floor and rolls onto his back. “Don’t get too comfy. That doorbell is going to ring soon.”

Shit. That doorbell is going to ring soon. I spin around.

Wineglasses? Check.

Napkins? Check.

Super-cozy blanket that’s a little small so we’ll have to snuggle? Check.

I dump the popcorn into the bowl, and as I’m sprinkling on some salt, the doorbell rings. Licorice skitters under the couch. “I tried to warn you,” I tell him as I open the door.

Pepper has also changed from the outfit she had on earlier. She’s in yoga pants and a cropped sweatshirt that shows a little bit of skin. She’s holding a box of Red Vines and a bag of dark chocolate M Licorice has abandoned the couch for a spot on his favorite chair; and Pepper spoons me from behind as we lie on the couch together, her body curled around mine, the heat of her breath on my neck.

The smell of her perfume—vanilla and incense—blends together with the fabric softener from the blanket we’re cocooned inside.

The movie is just as ridiculous as Pepper said it would be—even if I have jumped a few times.

But she is always there, a solid presence, telling me it’s going to be okay.

It’s almost hard to be scared with Pepper so close.

It’s also hard to concentrate on the movie at all.

I’m hyperaware of all the places her body is connected to mine.

I’m honestly not sure where the guy in the movie is going with this last worm thing.

The whole group seems royally forked. But the way it comes full circle from the beginning—which is also very clever—feels really satisfying for a scary movie.

I still don’t completely understand where the worms themselves came from, but talking isn’t what I’m interested in at the moment.

The credits roll and so do I, so I’m face-to-face with Pepper. Her expression is soft, her cheeks flushed to a pale rose. Her makeup tonight is simple—a little mascara and some brassy liner that make her eyes really pop.

“So…?” she asks.

“Okay, it wasn’t terrible. But I’m not going to be watching Halloween or Jason Krueger or whatever anytime soon.”

“It’s just Jason and then Freddie Krueger, for your reference, but that’s totally fair.”

“That was only like an hour and a half, too, so it was pretty quick.” I rub her foot with mine. Neither of us has socks on anymore. “You don’t have to go yet, do you?”

“I didn’t have any other plans tonight, no.” She reaches over and rubs her thumb against my bottom lip. “Did you have something in mind?” Her lips curl into the most mischievous grin.

And that’s all it takes.

I’m not sure if she leans in first or if it’s me, but we’re kissing with the fierceness of lovers who have been apart for ages—not able to get enough of each other.

Her hands are in my hair and up my top, and my hands are fighting with the band of her leggings, needing to touch, to feel every inch of her.

There are moments in life when the stars align and the universe provides exactly what you need, and for me that moment is now—here—on this couch with this beautiful woman.

My body is on fire with every caress of her hand, with each nibble of my neck.

Her hands are so steady, never second-guessing or hesitating to touch me in all the places I need to feel her.

There aren’t many things that are perfect in life, but Pepper and I fit together seamlessly.

It’s like a dance—an effortless balance of back and forth—like she can anticipate my every want, my every desire, a moment before even I do.

It’s as though we’ve done this a hundred times before, but it’s all so new, with so much of each other still needing to be explored.

Pepper brings me to the edge—a place so vulnerable—but I trust her, and soon I’m breathless, and she’s grinning at me, her rosy cheeks much brighter now.

Those blue eyes of hers focus on me with such intensity, I can feel it in my soul; and it’s in this moment, without even meaning to or knowing that I’ve taken the leap, that I know I’ve completely fallen for her.

“I…I…” But I can’t bring myself to tell her, not yet. Will she think I’m cliché? Will telling her here, now—like this—scare her away? We haven’t known each other long, but I also feel like she knows me—the real me—and that I know her, more than I’ve known anyone else.

She smiles at me like maybe she can read my mind. “It’s okay,” she says. “I got you.” But I don’t think she really understands that she unequivocally does.

Whether she realizes it or not, she now holds my heart, and I don’t ever want her to give it back.