Dear Bailey

Part 5

                 

Bailey

            He was right. It would be unpatriotic to not agree to his idea, but even if it wasn't I'd have still agreed. After all, my lips still felt warm where he'd touched them. "Ok. I say yes." I reached inside my backpack and pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen. I scribbled down my email address and handed it to him. "But what's in it for you?"

            "Seriously?" he asked with a smirk. "I need to spell this out for you?" I didn't answer him. Instead I pursed my lips and shrugged my shoulders. I was going to do whatever it took to keep him talking. His deep voice slipped down my spine and sent a tingling sensation along my nerves. I wanted to rub my thumb along his jaw and see if it felt as smooth as it looked.

I know that sounds crazy, but boys my age rarely kept themselves that clean-shaved. At school, many of the popular boys were growing out the hair on their chins, or letting a few days pass before shaving their lips. I used to like it, but after seeing Lucas, I could see the error of my thinking. His smooth face was sexy as sin.

"Ok. I'll spell it out. First, I can tell my heart to calm the fuck down since it's been beating so quickly since I first saw you. I think it's convinced I was going to have to watch you walk right back out of my life as quickly as you walked into it. Second," he pushed his cup aside and leaned forward with his elbows on the table, "I have a feeling your head would rest perfectly right on my chest." He rubbed his hand over the spot on his chest where it met his shoulder. I could imagine my head there too. I tucked my lip over my teeth to keep from looking as giddy as I felt.

"But," he continued, "there are all these rules about how well you have to know me before that can happen, and writing to each other will help speed that along." He was good. And maybe more cutely, he knew he was good. His confidence slayed me. "Third, my fellow Marines like to brag about how hot their girl at home is. I'm a competitive guy, and with you I'd be the frontrunner." His teeth were perfect, something else I couldn't help but notice as he grinned at me. "So no pressure or anything," he chuckled, "but it would make my year if you attached a picture to your reply. I've been sitting here thinking about how I'm going to describe to my friends just how beautiful you are and none of the words I can come up with are even close to the reality of what I see when I'm sitting in front of you."

Butter. He melted my insides like a flame to butter. I was stunned into silence and we sat just staring at each other. I felt a small pang of sadness. It was the oddest thing, but I felt sad that I didn't know him already. I was desperate to jump forward to a time when I could hug him or reach out and slip my hand across the short buzz of his hair. Why did we have to move through so many formalities before I could be the little spoon to his big spoon? He thought I was beautiful, and I thought he was as close to perfect as one could get.

I pushed my glasses up higher on my nose, "Do you talk to all girls like this?" I squinted my eyes at him, "How many other emails will mine have to fall under in your inbox, Mr. Charming." His grin kept growing bigger and bigger as he watched me fidget a bit in my seat.

"You have no idea do you?" he asked. He shook his head slightly and my stomach knotted up in fear of what was coming next. "Let me think of how to put this." He glanced away for minute and then adjusted in his chair. "Do you by any chance do any reading?"

"Everyday, in every free minute," I answered quickly.

"Perfect. You know when you see a book with an intriguing cover? You're curious about what's inside. You know immediately you're going to fall in love with its pages. You'll always have it there in the back of your mind. It's the book you'll compare other books too. The book lover inside you is afraid to get started on it because it's going to diminish the light in other stories. You know it's different. You can sense it before you even read what's inside.

"Maybe you read other books, because on some deep level you know that the book you're holding off on is going to change your life. Or maybe like me, you hadn't quite found that book yet, but you knew it's out there. It's going to be the game changer that you'll never recover from. It'll ruin you for all other books. But then one day you get your hands on it. It's too much to resist. You think about it so much it's become part of you already and you know from the first sentence of the story that you've been right all along."

His face was serious as he looked into my eyes. I nodded my head because every word he was saying was true. "She stepped off of a crowded plane in a sea of tired travelers, and right into my heart." His words slipped into my head, igniting my heart like gasoline on a fire. "That's the first sentence of our story and it's already changed my life. You, Bailey are that kind of book. I'm sure other men see you that way too, but I knew that I had to read more. So in answer to your question, it doesn't matter how many books I've read before yours, this one is the game changer."

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