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DAY 27
There was something exhilarating about taking a trip to Walmart at midnight.
This had been a tradition in Honey's family for as long as she could remember. Every so often, on the weekends, they would all pile into the car and head to the store for all of their favorite snacks and sweets. Her father always picked out a bag of peppered beef jerky and a chocolate bar, her mother would choose a tub of peanut butter ice cream, and her brother would get dill pickle chips. Honey was a slice of cheesecake from the frozen section type of girl.
Looking down at the New York style cheesecake in her basket, she smiled. Traditions were meant to continue, keeping the memory alive - memories that she cherished more than anything else in the world.
Her smile faltered slightly as she rounded the corner of the wine aisle and a pair of arms enveloped around her petite waist, twisting her body around and pinning her against the end-cap filled with cases of beer - the blue basket barely hanging onto her tiny fingers at the swift movement. Her wide, brown eyes met an excited pair of blue ones, her heart thudding frantically against her chest as she came down from her "almost got kidnapped" adrenaline high.
"Steve? You scared the shi-"
But she was interrupted by his soft lips pressing against hers impatiently, leaning down to meet her small height, moving with an anticipated excitement as if he'd been itching to do this again. Swallowing up her timid gestures as she attempted to keep up, his hands gripped her waist, finally touching her the way he had wanted since the moment she had left his apartment the other night. His fingers kneaded urgently into her skin, reveling in the way Honey melted under his touch without hesitation.
She, too, had been craving this moment again.
Steve's lips moved with a hunger that she hadn't noticed last time, his beard rubbing her sensitive skin as his mouth molded with hers in a way that felt almost too perfect.
Breaking the kiss slightly, Honey stared up at him reverently as her full lips turned a few shades of pink, taken aback by the way he seemed parched for the taste of her mouth. "What are you doing?"
"I," he paused, kissing her lips. "Am," another peck against her jawline. "Kissing you."
"We've hardly even talked since you started kissing me," she pouted innocently, a swarm of butterflies swarming through her stomach as his lips found the most sensitive spot on her neck.
"I'm not good at talking," he mumbled against her skin.
"And I'm not good at having a make-out session in the middle of a Walmart with a guy who I've had maybe four conversations with."
