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THE REDHEAD BOY DROPS HIS SUMMER GIRL OFF AT HER DOORSTEP. For a single moment, he can't leave. Not because he's incapable of moving his legs to get back into his truck, but precisely due the simple and plain fact, he doesn't want to leave her just yet.
Because Evie Wilson was the flower growing in the cracks in ribs. She's the sunlight in his orange hair and she's the essence of the raindrops on his windowsill when storms.
Storms. Storms start to flood into his muscles. It feels like a tornado is about to rage havoc in his body. Rain., hail, and thunder...all moving at once and he suddenly can't catch his breath. Like he's falling into the eye of the storm.
"Evie," he mumbles, looking at his shoelaces instead of her sweet, cute face. "I got to tell you something. Something important,"
"Go ahead," she whispers. He could still smell the buttery popcorn on her breath, and the scent of strawberry shampoo in her chocolate waves of hair.
So beautiful it hurts.
So, freaking cute it hurts.
"You're so freaking cute, Evie," he blurts out, then realises his mistake. He called the girl of his dreams cute. Not sexy, not cool, not gorgeous, cute. Cute was....the simplest form of a compliment Jacob could ever give. And he wanted to shoot himself in the face while slipping up.
"I, uh- " He stumbles, rubbing the back of his neck and sears lightly to himself. Evie steps forward, towards him until they are chest to chest. Jacob's height is taller than her by six or seven inches and still, he feels hyper, radioactive, alert, aware and conscious of the woman standing so close to him. So close he could....feel other things stirring.
Oh, lord.
He wishes there were no lights on her front porch, so he could hide his sweeping, pink blush from her. But there was nowhere to hide.
On her front porch, the light was hovering around them both. Outside had darken to a grey violet shade, and the sun was calling it a day. Behind them, the barn was dark and cold, and smelling of sleeping grass.
Jacob rubs his neck again, unsure what to do next. What to say next, until he feels Evie's hands gingerly wrap around the drawstings of his hoodie to duck him closer to her face. To her mouth. "What did you just say, Jake?"
He swallows. Blushes so much he wants to rage at himself. He feels himself warm up. Like the temperature had heightened his body and he was jumping into a warm lake, full of hot spring water.
The way she stared at him had him shy, tongue tied. However, he glumps down his fears and pulls back a piece of her hair from her face behind her ear. The gesture is soft, sweet-hearted, and humble, but the action spoke volumes.
"You are cute," he says with confidence. With the world around them being so quiet, the sentence floating out his lips sounds louder than it is. But he relaxes his beating heart that's on fire when she smiles softly with her eyes. And he says it again, but this time it's barely a whisper, a ghostly touch of lips, words and teeth against her ear. "Your so damn cute, Evie Wilson,"
