CHLOE BAKER'S LOST DATE

Chapter Twenty-One: That Was Quite the Kiss

When we break apart, we're both out of breath and the lead singer is glaring at us because we're kind of stealing his spotlight.

Ben mouths "sorry" and the singer flips him off and goes back to singing to the very young girls who are crowding the front of the stage. I didn't get carded to get in here, and I doubt they would've been admitted if they'd bothered checking IDs.

Ben speaks into my ear. "I'd like to get out of here."

"Okay."

"I can't, though. Not until the concert's over."

I nod because I understand. This is work, and I've just thrown a wrench in it. We both have. But my lips are still tingling and my hands are kind of numb, and I'm one big nerve all over. I want to kiss him again, badly, but that seems unwise.

"Will you stay?" Ben asks.

"Yes."

"Good."

He takes my hand and kisses it, then twines our fingers together and we turn back to the stage, our hands locked, our bodies touching along the side, a promise of more things to come, later, when the concert's over.

I let the music wash over me, that base-note feeling deep in my soul. I steal glances at Ben, who's sometimes stealing glances at me, too. I feel happy, like a buoy on the water on a sunny day, but there's a dark cloud on the horizon because: Ben. Ben!

I should ask a million questions. I should leave this place though the music is good, that pop-y, singer/songwriter mix I've always loved. The lights are crisscrossing above the band on the stage, purple and blue, and their energy is infectious. They should blow up, I hope they do, but what the hell am I doing here? He said we couldn't be together, he said that an hour ago, and yet, he didn't pull back when our mouths met. Instead, he deepened the kiss, all tongue, and soft lips until I felt weak in the knees, weak in the heart.

I don't do that, though. Instead, I keep looking at him as the music plays, and he's looking at me too. The night is soft, fuzzy, from the drinks, and the kiss and the feeling of his hand in mine. I haven't felt this woozy in years. I've never felt anything like this at all.

So I'm not going to run, I'm going to see what happens next.

###

When the concert's over, encores sung, and hands clapped until numb, Ben tells me he wants to get out of here but he needs ten minutes. He says this against my ear, his lips touching my flesh.

I shiver and nod and wonder what he needs to do. I watch him, feeling hot and sweaty as he talks to someone who must be the bar's manager and gets handed a wad of cash. He counts it out quickly, then divides it up and pays the band, pocketing something for himself. It all happens so quickly, with fist bumps and back slaps, that it looks like a drug transaction. He finishes up and gets handed a drink. He takes it, finishes that too, then comes back to me.

"I thought you had a two-drink limit?" I say, tilting my head to the side.

He checks his watch, then angles it toward me. It's 12:02 AM. "It's a new day."

"Ah."

"You disapprove?"

I circle his wrist just above his watch with my thumb and index finger. They don't make it around, but almost. "Depends."

He gives me a lopsided grin. "On?"

"Why you had it? For courage?"

"Maybe."

"Hmmm."

He takes my hand off his wrist, tracing the flesh between my thumb and forefinger with his thumb. "Is that a good answer or a bad one?"