Free Challa by Linda Mooney

damn it! Tell me what I did wrong! Don’t go! Don’t leave me, please!”
    She ceased struggling and looked up at him with those deep blue eyes with the purplish flecks swirling around in their depths. They were pleading with him. Begging him to say something. To do something. Compton cursed himself for not knowing what she needed.
    Suddenly, it was there. What he’d been missing. Her honeysuckle scent floated around him, sweeter than cotton candy. Faint, but unmistakable. Without being aware of what he was doing, Compton leaned toward her and sniffed.
    Challa stopped struggling. He dropped his face closer to her red waterfall of hair where the fragrance was stronger. He felt her hand press against his chest, and he would swear he felt the heat from it soak through the skin.
    “I love the way you smell, Challa.” It was a tiny confession, when the truth was he wanted to also tell her how soft her hair was against his cheek. Softer than a kitten’s fur. Warm. Begging to be caressed.
    “How do I smell to you?” she whispered.
    “Like honeysuckle.”
    “Honeysuckle?”
    The question took him by surprise. Leaning back, he looked into her puzzled gaze. “You don’t know what honeysuckle smells like?” Challa shook her head, and Compton forced himself to keep from smiling, afraid she would take his response the wrong way. “There’s a vine of honeysuckle growing in my backyard. Come with me and I’ll show it to you.”
    The invitation felt natural. Another step in the order of the way their relationship should advance. Hello. Let’s have lunch. Care to go with me to a movie? Come over to my place.
    Oops. Skipped step three. At the same time he realized he could count on less than one finger how many women he had invited to his home.
    He no longer wondered why this woman managed to have such a hold on him. She did, and that’s all there was to it. She had him in the palm of her hand, and he was right back to being the overweight, zit-faced nerd from high school.
    “Compton?”
    Compton started. He had happily started to drown in the pool that was her scent and her silky hair. Opening his eyes, he saw the tiny smile curling the edges of her lips. If they hadn’t been standing in the middle of town square in broad daylight in the middle of the day, he would have chanced a kiss.
    “Compton?” she repeated, searching his face.
    “Yes?”
    “I-I need to go. I have a show tonight.”
    He straightened and reluctantly released his hold on her arm. Oddly, he felt disconnected doing it, as though a switch had been flipped.
    “Will you be there?” Challa asked almost timidly.
    “Be there?”
    “Yes. Please? Come to the show tonight.” She seemed to be pleading with him. Compton started to assure her he would come whenever she wanted him to. In fact, she didn’t have to ask. She could take his attendance as a given. Unaware of his thoughts, she hurried to add, “I’ll be doing show number two.”
    Compton frowned. “Show number two?”
    She nodded. “Last night was what we call show number one.”
    “The one where you try to intimidate everyone?” He grinned back.
    This time Challa giggled, and Compton knew he was head over heels in love. “If you think that was intimidating, just you wait until tonight!”
    “Then count on it, Challa. I’ll be there. Promise.”
    “I’ll be searching the crowds for you!” She backed away another step, gave him a little wave, turned, and started walking away, when Compton realized she didn’t have any sort of transportation.
    “Challa! Wait up! Don’t tell me you’re planning on walking all the way back to the carnival, are you?”
    “It’s not far. How do you think I got here in the first place?”
    “Let me drive you back,” he offered, hoping she’d say yes. It would mean maybe ten more minutes together, but it would be ten minutes they wouldn’t have otherwise. And, who knows? Alone together in the cab, they would have a small measure of privacy.
    She