Free Can't Go Home (Oasis Waterfall) by Angelisa Denise Stone

I listen intently to her likes, dislikes, funny idiosyncrasies, and I cannot get enough.
    “And finally, number 26 … um … um … you’re the hottest guy who’s ever spoken to me,” she confesses, looking away from me.
    “That doesn’t count! It’s about me,” I say, wiping my shoulder, feigning arrogance until she looks at me again. “That does not say one thing about you,” I argue.
    “Actually Dre, you’re wrong. It says a lot about me,” Kathryn says sadly, dropping her eyes from my gaze.
    At that point, my body takes over; I have no control over my actions. Pulling Kathryn closer to me, wrapping her one foot around me, I lean over and lift her chin, forcing her to look me in the eyes. When she does, my stomach flutters. Her eyes are stunning, dark and full of mystery, but also full of worry and hope.
    I take a deep breath, and say, “Then those other guys don’t know what they’re missing.”
    Kathryn smiles and closes her eyes. It’s beautiful the way she looks, almost as if she’s absorbing the compliment, letting it wash over her. When she opens her eyes again, I pull her close to me, and kiss her, lightly on the lips, praying for an invitation to deepen the kiss. Kathryn’s mouth opens more as my tongue finds hers. Pure bliss. I could never touch her again and know that I just experienced Heaven.
    Kathryn wraps her arms around my neck, and teases the hair at the nape of my neck, sending chills down my spine and fire to my groin. I begin to kiss her jawline, working my way down her neck. She gasps as my tongue flicks the flesh behind her ear.
    “And now, we’re done,” Kathryn says, standing abruptly. “Number 27. I’m not a big fan of public displays of affection.”
    Kathryn bobs up and down on her toes, shaking her hands and arms back and forth. She looks like she’s warming up for a race. “I gotta hand it to you, Dre, that was one pretty good kiss,” she compliments. Kathryn bends over to put her shoe and sock on, and I’m awarded with an excellent view of her ass.
    I stand up, wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her entire body back against mine, and whisper, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
    Kathryn’s breath catches. Then shoves back against me, and says, “Whatever Mick Jagger.”
    “Mick—” I release her immediately, stepping back in astonishment. “Mick Jagger? Did you just confuse B.T.O. with Mick Jagger?” I turn from her, pretending to be disappointed.
    Realizing her mistake, she says, “Oh my God, you’re right. B.T.O! How could I forget?”
    “Seriously, you do something like that again, and you won’t ‘get no satisfaction,’ Miss Howell,” I threaten.
    Laughing, Kathryn nods and says, “I’m terribly sorry … I’ve … I’ve seen the errors of my ways.”
    “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Who’s Jose?” I ask.
    “Jose? How do you know—”
    “The day your battery died, you were leaving him a message,” I remind her.
    “Oh, he’s a high school boy, who wants to be a writer. I’ve been helping him with his writing for about a year now. It’s kind of fun,” she explains with a glint in her eyes.
    Kathryn and I start walking to the exit of the fair, when she says, “So what was the deal with counting the times the horse went around the merry-go-round? What does the six mean?”
    “Oh yeah, I forgot! You get to ask me six questions,” I declare. “Go easy on me.”
    Kathryn smiles and says, “Ooooh this game just got a lot better. Alright, what’s ‘Dre’ short for?”
    “What a waste of a question!” I respond. “It’s not short for anything. My name’s just Dre.” I lie. “Wow that sucks for you—wasting a question like that. Next question.”
    “Have you ever been in love?” she asks, looking away from me as she does so.
    “Seriously, I’m almost 28-years-old. What? You think I’m a loser, that nobody’d ever love someone like me?” I joke.
    “No, I didn’t say that. I was just checking. So, with