If You Ask Me by Libby Hubscher

Author:Libby Hubscher [Hubscher, Libby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2022-03-08T00:00:00+00:00

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We headed back to the truck, where Dez filled the tires back up and then took me to Kitty Hawk Surf Co., where we picked out sweatshirts and I bought a new trucker hat, which I put on over my wind-tossed hair.

“Very cute,” Dez said, tapping the brim. I peered up at him. His mouth twitched, but he cleared his throat and sidestepped. “Now this. This is what we need.” He held up a kite shaped like a paper airplane with black and rainbow stripes and a long streaming tail. I looked at him holding that kite, like a giant kid in the very best way, his eyes shining, his free hand tucked into the pocket of the new sweatshirt, and for an instant I thought, This is exactly what we need. I pushed the notion away.

Afterward, we got baskets of fried shrimp and hush puppies, Cheerwine in glass bottles, and slices of key lime pie from a restaurant down the street that stayed open year-round, then took it all to the beach and ate in the back of the truck, facing the ocean. When we’d had enough food, Dez set up the kite. He held it out to me. “You do the honors, Vi,” he said.

“I’ve never been very good at kites,” I told him.

He shrugged. “Give it a try. It’s not magical. Just run for a bit and let the wind do the work.”

Begrudgingly, I accepted the spool from him. I ran along for a few discouraging seconds, during which the kite bumped along the sand and nearly took out an unsuspecting sandpiper, before the wind snatched the kite high into the sky; I watched it swoop and swirl in the stiff breeze. Dez stood next to me, his hip bumping against mine. Wordlessly, he took the kite string from my hand and tied it to the open hatch of the truck. I sat in the bed of the truck, and he stood between my legs.

“You’re an advice columnist,” Dez said in a low voice. “What kind of advice would you have for a guy who really wants to kiss a woman who’s maybe feeling ambivalent? Should he hold back like he’s been doing all day, even though it’s killing him? Or should he go for it?”

Hold back, that little voice in my head, that proper prissy one, screeched. But I wasn’t listening to that voice right now. I should have shoved her in that Caboodle with my sparkly eye shadow in the way-back depths beneath the sink. “Who says she’s ambivalent?” I said.

Dez slid his hands around my waist to my back, just under the hem of my sweatshirt. They were warm and slightly rough against my skin. He brushed his lips over mine. We tasted of citrus and salt, and he kissed me slowly, hungrily, unyielding. I lost myself in those kisses. I wrapped my legs around him and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him to me. I clung to him so tightly that I could feel his heart beating against me.

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