Lean On Me #Wattys2016

Part 22

Ashlyn

We are doing this whole thing backwards and it leaves me wondering where we go from here. Normally it's dinner, then kissing, then hooking up. For us we started at the hooking up and now find myself in the bathroom, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I see my red cheeks and silly smile, but I can't seem to find any regret for what I've just done. I'm sure it will hit me someday, maybe when this is all over and I'm left with nothing but memories of steamy hook-ups.

Mateo knocks on the door and I shut of the sink. "Yes?" I ask, my heart racing with anxiety about what he might say. Is he going to tell me to go home? Will I be able to hide the disappointment on my face?

"Do you want a burrito or enchiladas?" His voice carries through the door and maybe that's why I don't believe I heard that correctly.

"What?" I turn the knob and open the door so I we aren't speaking through it.

"Tostadas get soggy before they get here. The taquitos are pork—not beef," something I can tell he doesn't agree with by the disgusted look n his face. It makes me laugh. "Tacos are good, but not as good as the burritos or enchiladas. So which will it be?" For the first time since we started this conversation his lip twitches and then curls into a smile. He's nervous too and it's so cute.

"Are you inviting me to stay for dinner?" I ask, folding my arms over my chest.

"Well I certainly don't want your stomach growling through the whole movie."

"A movie too?" I wasn't about to admit how happy this made me.

"It's not going to watch itself." He said the words like they weren't crazy and my heart did a little flip in my chest.

"What are you going to eat?"

"Burrito." He holds up a small delivery menu and points to the third item. I can't contain my own smile as I shrug my shoulders.

"Then I'll get enchiladas so we can have half of each." I'm looking into his eyes, loving the little wrinkles around the edges as his smile grows.

"I knew you were perfect, but I had no idea you were also brilliant." He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials the number. I follow him out of the bathroom and into the living room. Our clothes are back on, but I can still see his strong biceps as he leans his upper body against the small bar that separates the kitchen from the living room. He lifts his chin, directing me to sit on the couch. I turn around as he orders our dinner, but I don't find a seat right away. Instead I head over to the small table in the corner by a window.

I didn't really look around the last time I was in his apartment and now that I'm in here again, I want to learn more about him. He has a laptop out and open, but the screen is dark. Next to it he has a notebook, worn and torn at the edges. I want to open it so badly, but I don't. This is his space and I'm just a guest. There are a few post-it notes stuck to the top of the table with handwritten messages that make no sense at all to me, but I imagine are part of his story.

I run my finger across three dates written on one of the notes and then my eyes catch on another post-it tucked partly beneath his laptop. It's my name all in caps. I can see where he's traced over the letters multiple times. The gesture makes my heart swell and happiness bubble up beneath my cheeks until I'm smiling so big they heart.

His voice from behind startles me, "I'm not a stalker, I promise." I turn around and see him standing with one hand in his pocket and the other on the back of his neck sheepishly. "It's been helping me through my writers block." He peeks at me with his chin tucked into his chest like he's waiting to be scolded. He couldn't be more wrong about how my name from his fingers makes me feel.

"You've been writing?"

Mateo nods his head and slips his hand into his other pocket, rocking back on his heals and reminding me of a young boy answering to his teacher.

"That's great. What are you writing about?" I take a few steps towards him until he's looking down into my eyes.

"You'd think I was crazy if I told you." His eyes move from mine down to my lips, stopping there for a moment before rising to meet my gaze again.

"Try me."

"It's about a recluse cop who stays shut inside, nursing a bum leg while solving local murders." His hand moves towards my face slowly and I close my eyes when the back of his knuckles brush lightly across my cheek. His touch warms all through my body and my stomach flutters like it used to when the boy I was crushing on would talk to me.

I open my eyes. "What's so crazy about that?" I reach up and hold onto his wrist, keeping his hand touching my skin.

"Because no matter how fucked up his life is and how limited he lets his world get, he still falls head over heels in love with his partner." I love the idea already, but can't quite see why that would make him crazy. He watches the question play out in my features and chuckles softly when my brows pull together in confusion. He runs his thumb gently across my bottom lip, following the trail with his eyes. I part my lips and he reads the signal perfectly, leaning in and kissing me slowly. It's different than any other kisses before and I have to remind myself to keep my feet planted on the ground because I feel like I might float away. When he finally pulls back he grins shyly, "I named her after you." 

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