Page 47 of Banter & Blushes #1

TIFFANY

I never knew it was possible to kiss and smile at the same time. But I’m convinced that’s what my lips are doing.

When the kiss turns more into a smile, I lean back and aim it at Colt. He slowly opens his eyes, then smiles back at me.

After a moment, his eyes trail to the toilet. “I need to fix that.”

“It’s just toilet paper, right?”

“And makeup.” He frowns.

I laugh. “It will dissipate soon enough, and we can plunge it again.”

“I need to get you a better plunger.”

“Or maybe leave your makeup on next time.” I run my fingers across his jawline. Something I’ve oddly wanted to do all day.

“It wasn’t my choice.” He blushes and half smiles.

“I know.” I pat his face, then move my hand. “Now I know why boy bands were always so cute. They wore makeup all this time.”

He chuckles. I stand, then offer him a hand. He takes it, and I pull even though we both know I couldn’t lift him if I tried my hardest.

“Your food is going to get cold. Again.”

He shrugs and wraps his arms around my waist. I hug him back and try not to get too attached. I hadn’t let myself think about what happens once he’s done shooting the video. Where he will go, how long he will be gone.

Even if I ignore it, reality will catch up with us soon. Then the distance that cooled our relationship years ago will be back. It’s definitely something we need to address.

I’m still deep in thought when Colt speaks. “I’ve got a question.”

“What?” God, please don’t let it be about us and distance. At least let me have this hug first.

“What’s with the naked sign?”

I look at him as he stares at the sign. That question definitely lightened my mood. I giggle. “Get naked. You know, because this is the bathroom.”

He shakes his head, then releases me. “We need to get out of here.”

I laugh as he grabs my hand and pulls me through the hallway toward the kitchen. As soon as he drops it, I miss his touch. This is not good.

I do what comes natural in tense situations and focus on food and feeding people. I pull two plates from the cabinet and hand one to him. Then I uncover the foil pan. “Since we know the fajitas weren’t the culprit, feel free to dig in.”

He gives me a funny smirk, and I’m reminded of the other thing I do when I’m feeling tense—say weird things.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Do you have tea?”

“Of course.” I take a jug from the refrigerator.

“Did you make the tea we had today?”

“I did.” I smile.

“It was good.”

“Thanks.”

I pour two glasses of tea and fix my plate. We sit beside each other at the counter because I don’t have a table. My house is small and open-concept. Needless to say, I do most of my entertaining outside and from a food truck.

“This is a nice little place.” He glances around the room. “Very bright.”

“You know I like bright.”

“I do.” He smiles at me, then takes a bite.

“When do you think your video will be on TV?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve heard the song on the radio a few times already, so I hope they get it out soon.”

“How many songs do you have solo?”

He stares at the ceiling, thinking. “Let’s just say plenty for an album.”

“Cool.”

“What about you? How long have you had the food truck?”

“A few years.” I take a sip of tea.

“Do you like it?”

“I do.” I smile. “I want to get more into catering. That’s why I took the job with the production company.”

“I’m glad you did.” He brushes his hand over mine and gives it a quick squeeze. My insides flutter. He did this often when we were on a date. It’s something so small I’d forgotten but so familiar, I remember in an instant.

“Thanks.” I focus on my plate and eat a few bites .

This is not a date . We did just make out on my bathroom floor. Still, this is NOT a date.

“Do you like living here?”

“Yeah.” I waver my head. “I mean it’s a one-bedroom and gets loud during the peak seasons, but?—”

He laughs. “I mean the beach.”

“Oh right. I do.”

It’s beginning to feel a lot like a first date. I forgot how much time has passed in our lives. We know so much about each other, but there’s a lot we don’t know too.

“What about you? I assume you live in Nashville.”

“Right now I live in a van down by the river.”

“Huh?”

He laughs. “Just kidding. But it felt like that when I was touring with The Rolling Rocks.”

“I always thought that was a cheesy name. No offense.”

“None taken. It wasn’t my band. I came in after a guitar player left.”

“But you live in Nashville?”

“Maybe.”

I cock my head in question.

“My apartment lease was up while I was touring, so I didn’t renew it. Then my own stuff started getting noticed. I went straight from tour to here. After the video, I’ve got to decide.”

“Where to live?”

He sighs. “And if I’m joining The Rolling Rocks on next season’s tours or trying my own thing.”

I put my fork down and turn to him. “Why wouldn’t you do your own thing? Your music is taking off.”

“Yeah, but the focus will all be on me as a solo artist. If I fail, then it’s all on me.”

“But if you succeed . . .” I lift my hand higher.

He smiles, then dips his head.

“Are you scared?” I almost regret asking, as I can see it caught him off guard.

“A little. You know I don’t like being under a microscope. People wanting to know all about me.”

This time it’s me who reaches for his hand. “You’re a good person. Unless you’ve been in jail the last few years and I don’t know it.” I laugh.

“No.” He chuckles. “But if on an off chance I do get famous...” He pauses and rolls his eyes. “Then everyone will watch my every move. I’m too private for that.”

“I get it.” I take a long drink of my tea. “We all want money without the fame.”

“It’s not even the money for me. It’s getting to write and sing my own songs for a living. ”

He leans back and runs the hand I’m not holding down his face.

“It may sound silly since we don’t have long in the same place, but I’m always here if you need me. You can call or text me anytime.” I give his hand a squeeze.

He nods, then looks at me. “I don’t have your number.”

“It’s the same.”

“I dropped my phone in a lake fishing one summer and lost all my contacts.”

I shake my head. “I’ll text it to you if yours is the same.”

His lips curve upward and he turns so our knees touch. Then he takes my other hand in his. “I don’t know where I’m going when this ends, but I’d really like to kiss you again.”

Despite the rational part of my brain begging me to not get too attached, I lean in for one more kiss.