Free Good Vibrations (Welcome to Paradise) by S. L. Scott Page A

too. Sorry about that whole falling asleep thing by the way. Guess I’m more tired than I thought.” I lean forward to hug him.
    His hands grip my waist and he pulls me closer. I feel trapped and noisily gulp. When he leans back, our eyes meet and the awkwardness worsens. Before I have a chance to say anything, he leans forward with that look—a look that says ‘Prepare yourself because I’m going to kiss you.’ I turn away as words fly from my mouth. “So, I’ll see you around, okay?”
    “Yeah, okay, see you around,” he says, but disappointment darkens his tone as he sits back.
    I jump out and move to the sidewalk, watching him drive off then head inside. Sunny is asleep and all the lights are off inside the apartment. I shut the door quietly behind me, but I have the small place memorized, so I keep the lights off finding comfort in the darkness. After brushing my teeth, I slip into a tank top and shorts. I climb between the covers of my makeshift bed on the couch, and lay there looking out the glass door ahead of me.
    The parking lot lamp in the distance is dim and blackness surrounds the building. But a small orange glow and shadowed figure is seen despite the dark. An errant thought flashes in the form of hope filled anticipation as my heart races at the realization, and I bolt upright. The orange glow moves as fast as I do then quicker. I struggle to unlock the sliding glass door, but finally get it open, and run after the spark. “Evan,” I call, hoping my hunch is correct.
    The orange ember at the end of the cigarette gets flicked, and my eyes follow it as it loops through the air and falls to the ground. When my eyes finally adjust to the night, I can tell it’s him as he stops next to the car door. He remains in the safety of the shadows, a shrouded mystery.
    “Evan?” This time I say his name gentler, hoping he can hear. I’m not going to chase him any further and I don’t want to chase him away.
    I stand there waiting for any response he’s willing to give, but none comes.
    Under the soft glow of the tall lamp in the distance, he shifts, his body appearing to fight an internal battle.
    My heart pounds in my ears waiting for anything. I deserve an explanation. I deserve answers to his behavior. “Fuck.” I deserve something more than silence in the middle of the night.
    His resigned body comes closer, his face not visible under the cloud covered night. Stopping one short foot in front of me, his features are seen, the emotion on his face clear. He’s not angry Evan, or bewildered, or even Mr. Smooth Evan. He’s vulnerable and open as his expression pleads with me to make the connection. With caution, he takes my face in his hands, his eyes seeking the permission his lips won’t ask.
    I feel a lump in my throat as confusion sets in. He can’t regret how he acted. He chose that path, not me. Nothing makes sense with him, nothing except his lips on mine, willing my mind to settle and my heart to calm. This is right. This kiss makes sense.
    His lips aren’t hurried or panicked. He’s sharing this moment with me, taking his time to enjoy the rewards of his patient waiting. My hands are drawn to him and ghost up his chest and around his neck, my fingers locking together. His hands find my middle and pull me closer. My body moves, knowing exactly where it wants to be. My mind has no say in this because logic is overruled by need. I need to be with him and he needs to be with me.
    When our lips part, he looks, analyzing me. His eyes search my face then land back on mine. I don’t know Evan well enough to judge his moods by only his expressions, but I know he’s resisting something already set in motion. “You didn’t kiss him. Why didn’t you kiss him?” he asks. His breath is warm and tinged with cigarettes and peppermint.
    “I didn’t want to.” I don’t feel the need to say more. I didn’t want to kiss Noah, but can’t admit to Evan that it’s because he was on my mind at the