Original Uber Allergic: A Romance - part 19 / ? Updated Nov 26

[stardove]

Wowowowowowow!! I’m really loving this story 😊

[BlessLove]

This is amazing! Love it <3

[starpollen]

More of our new favorite couple.    No sneezing in this part, but I think the next part will make up for it!... 

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The Weekend - Part 1

Beth

I hadn’t told Cy what we were going to do.  All I had told him was to meet me in the parking lot of a local strip mall at 10:00 the next morning, and to dress for both indoor and outdoor activities.  He’d quirked his head at me, one brow raised, but had smiled and agreed without further comment. 

When he pulled into the lot at 9:53, I was surprised to see that his car was a mid-range SUV instead of some sleek sports model.  As he stepped down from the driver’s seat, I took in his tall, muscular frame from the ground up: dark jeans, a light blue sweater that was the exact same color as his eyes, a faded leather jacket, and that Greek god face crowned with barely-tamed tawny locks.  I had to swallow hard against the hot flash of lust that coursed through me at the sight.

“Open up your back, uh, hatch?” I told him, blinking furiously to regain control of my senses. “And then turn around and close your eyes.”

“Um... okay.” Giving me one of those heart-stopping smiles, he got back into the SUV and complied. 

“No peeking!” I called out as I transferred the contents of my trunk into the back of his vehicle. 

“I’m not,” he called back with a chuckle. “You sure you don’t need any help?”

“Nope, I got it.”

When I was finished, I locked my car and then trotted over to the passenger side of his.  

“Can I look now?” he asked, his hands comically covering his eyes as I opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.  “Going to be a little hard to drive anywhere like this.”

“Yes, silly, you can look now,” I responded, unable to suppress my wide grin. 

Lowering his hands, he turned to me, still with that gorgeous smile on his face.  “What’s this?” he asked, looking at what I held in my hands. 

“This one’s yours,” I replied, handing over one of the two Yetis. “Coffee, light on the sugar.”

Taking a cautious sip, he closed his eyes and moaned. “Ohhh god, that’s good...  What blend is this?”

“Ah-ah,” I lifted a finger and wagged it at him with what I hoped was a coy expression. “A girl has to have some secrets.”

Those deepwater blue eyes met mine, and then dropped to my lips.  “I have a feeling you’ve got more than enough secrets to keep me busy for a long time,” he murmured to my mouth. 

He hadn’t tried to kiss me at the end of our date last night.  I didn’t know whether that was because he hadn’t wanted to rush anything, or because of his insistence that he was “gross.”  He’d apologized for the allergy attack about ten times as he’d walked me to my car, and didn’t seem to hear me when I kept telling him that he didn’t need to.

But the look on his face now seemed to suggest he was thinking about it.  Kissing me.

I could feel myself blushing furiously, so I ducked my head and took a long gulp of my own coffee.  Cy did the same before placing the Yeti in one of the cupholders between us and turning the key in the ignition.  

“Okay,” he flashed a patient grin at me.  “Where to?”

After glancing at his dash to check that he had a full tank of gas, I gave him brief but enigmatic directions to get us to a rarely used back road.  Then, I told him to:

“Drive.”

He glanced at me, brows drawn together in confusion.  “Just… drive?”

I smiled at him, taking another sip of coffee that would stay warm for hours thanks to the miraculous metal tumbler.  “Yes.  Just drive.”  I replaced the the mug into the cupholder, licking my lips to savor the hot-sweet-bitter-creamy goodness.  “I’ll tell you when we need to turn.”

“Okay.”

Taking a very deep - needed - steadying breath, I turned on his stereo and cranked up whatever playlist he had currently loaded.  Then… I reached over and took his free hand. 

Watching shyly - cautiously - I saw a kaleidoscope of emotions play across his face, before it finally settled on one.  His full lips slowly pulled into a wide, lazy smile, his fingers spreading to lace into mine, palms pressing tight together. 

We might not have had our first kiss, but we were becoming experts at holding hands. 

“You remembered,” he murmured, settling into the driver’s seat and cocking one knee against the door, left hand languidly draped over the wheel as we pulled away. 

We drove for about two hours, sometimes engaging in conversation but most often enjoying the music in our ears and the rhythm of the road in our bones.  I asked him about his first car, and we traded stories of minor traffic violations and college parking tickets, eventually playing 20 Questions.  

“Favorite color.” I began.

“Blue.  Yours?”

“Green.  Least favorite vegetable."

"Lima beans."

I winced.  "Wow, I was going to say hominy but that might be a tie.  Favorite ice cream flavor.”

“Hm, that’s a tough one… probably Rocky Road.  And you?”

“Strawberry sorbet.”

“Sorbet is not an ice cream,” he teased, that long thumb slowly stroking the inside of my palm.

“Why not?”

“Ice creams need cream, obviously,” he explained, glancing at me sideways. “Sorbet is a different frozen dessert.  I thought a cook like you would know that.”

I laughed, shifting to pull one foot up under me and turning my body more toward his.  “I cook.  I don’t bake.  Desserts fall squarely in the baking category, hot or cold.”

“Damn,” he gave a wounded huff and shook his head slowly.  “Not a baker.  That’s a shame.  I love homemade pie.”

Rolling my eyes, I stared at his strong jaw.  “I can bake.  But I believe there is a fundamental difference between someone who is inherently a cook versus someone who is inherently a baker.  Bakers are precise, and have long attention spans, and focus on details.  Baking is science.  Cooks just throw stuff together and pray it works out.”

Adjusting his grip so that his thumb could stroke across the back of my hand, he grinned at the road.  “So, you wouldn’t say you’re a methodical, scientific sort of person?  You’re not - what’s it called - Type A?”

“I’m a planner, and I like to be organized.  I think anybody who cooks or bakes has to have those qualities.  But I don’t find joy or peace or satisfaction in the rigor of baking.  In fact, it intimidates me a little bit.  I can make pretty yummy cookies and cupcakes and - yes - pretty great pies at Thanksgiving, but… for example, I struggle with bread. It just never turns out quite right. Something so simple that people have been making for millenia and I can’t seem to figure it out.”  I blew a frustrated breath, pouting at his windshield. 

There was a moment of quiet.  Then, in a very soft voice, he said…

“I can’t swim.”

I blinked, turning to stare at him in disbelief.  “You… you can’t--”

“Swim,” he finished, fidgeting uncomfortably and withdrawing his hand to run long fingers through his hair.  I noticed he did that when he was nervous or upset.  “I-- … without going into all the details... it’s not something I’ve--” he gave a sheepish smile and a small shrug.  “I can’t seem to figure it out.”

I looked at him for a few moments, noticing the way his eyes seemed to want to look into mine, but the tense set of his mouth made it almost a plea instead of a smolder.  Rearranging my features into what I hoped was a soft, accepting, encouraging smile, I reached across to take back his hand.  And squeezed.

Something in his expression shifted, and I felt an unspoken thank you.

"Ever broken a bone?"  

And it continued.

I kept us to the back roads, where there was a lot of scenery and almost no traffic. When a particularly good song came on, I would turn it up and we’d both sing along.  By the time we were approaching the last turn that would reveal to him our destination, he was lounging loosely and radiating relaxation. That last turn we made eased us onto the highway that led into the capital city.  It was just shy of noon, and I could feel my stomach starting to rumble. 

“You hungry?” I asked.

That smoldering gaze turned on me and he licked his lips, his thumb stroking wickedly from my wrist to the center of my palm. "Yes." It wasn’t just his stomach talking.

“U-um,” I stumbled, unused to those kinds of looks being aimed my way.  “Take exit 184.”

A few minutes later, we were pulling into the parking lot of the sprawling science museum complex.  

“This is definitely a surprise,” he said as he swung the gear shift into park.  “I haven’t been here in years.”

“It’s one of my favorite places,” I admitted shyly, suddenly self-conscious.  Maybe this was a bad idea… taking my inner nerd a little too far…

But he turned that thousand-watt smile on me, and the gleam in his eyes was like a little kid. “I like surprises.  But, last I heard, the food here was a little…”

“Cafeteria?” 

“Yeah,” he said with a low chuckle that did all kinds of wonky things to my insides. 

“No worries,” I lifted my chin with a sly grin.  “I’ve got that covered.” We both got out and I walked around to the back hatch.  “Pop ‘er open.”

He did, then came around to see what I was unloading. 

“A picnic basket,” he looked at me with raised brows and a disbelieving smile. 

“And a blanket,” I blushed again, still wondering if I had miscalculated.

“This just keeps getting better and better,” he murmured, staring at me intently.  One long finger came up to tuck a stray hair behind my ear.  Reaching down, he kept staring at me as he plucked the basket from my hands and reached around me to take the rolled up blanket, tucking it under his arm. When that tall, hard body came close, I took a deep breath of his scent: clean soap and warm, dark, spicy male. “Lead the way,” he breathed near my ear, slipping his free hand into mine. 

I led us to an area of the grounds outside that was landscaped with various paths of pebbles and some stone benches, but also an expanse of green grass that crested up a hill.  He set down the basket and we spread the blanket together, settling down for lunch. 

Opening the lid, I took a deep breath before holding out my next surprise.  “For you, good sir."

“Really?” he smirked at me, leaning on one elbow as his long legs stretched in front, taking the paper-wrapped foot long from my hands.  “A Subway sandwich?”

Grinning like a cat, I sat cross-legged and pulled out mine, then a couple of water bottles and some boxes of fruits and cheeses.  “I hope I got it right.”

He unwrapped one end and took a bite.  “Unnngggn,” he groaned with pleasure, head falling back as he chewed.  “Woman, you slay me.” 

We ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the blue sky and light clouds and gentle breeze.  Because we were in the city, we could still hear some traffic but otherwise it was peaceful.   

When both sandwiches were gone and most of the fruit and cheese consumed, he helped me pack everything back into the basket.  This time there was room for the blanket.   And then I pulled two slips of paper from my back pocket. 

Cy studied them in my hand, and then speared me with that brilliantly blue laser-beam gaze. 

“A long drive,” he murmured slowly, voice pitched deep and thoughtful as he stared into my eyes. “Two Yetis with coffee. A picnic basket with two Subway sandwiches, fruits and cheeses, a blanket, and two tickets to the science museum.” His chest rumbled with another one of those addicting low chuckles that was also laced with a layer of wonder.  “Remember at the restaurant when I said I loved how your mind works?”

I nodded shyly, chin down and eyes canting up at him through my lashes. 

“Understatement of the year.”

Edited August 12, 2021 by starpollen

[Serendipity]

These two are so adorable, I can't get enough of them!

[rockbell]

I'm in love with them, cannot wait to read what happens next!

[stardove]

I can’t get over how well this story is written!! Excited for the next part of this hehe

[EveP]

Now I can't wait to read Cy's view of this. 🙂 I really love the mirror concept.

[WildSneezer]

Love it

[Kolen]

I love this and I can hardly wait for the next part(s)!!

[Juto]

This story is so beautiful! I just adore those two! 

[dragonko]

This is seriously one of my favorite stories on this forum, I can't wait to see where you take it!

[starpollen]

I'm really glad you guys are enjoying this story so much!   I've got plans for these two.  I promised you sneezing in this part, and I hope you'll like how it turned out. 

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The Weekend - Part 2

Beth

Packing the picnic items back into the rear of his SUV, we headed towards the sprawling science complex entrance.  Before we’d even taken one step away from the vehicle, he was once more lacing long fingers through mine and giving a gentle squeeze.  It made my heart do a crazy little flip-flop in my chest and my breath come short. 

The guy at the entrance scanned our tickets and then we stepped into the large, open space.  All around us were echoes of kids running and laughing, parents calling back and forth, and underneath was the hum of the many giant machines powering the exhibits. 

“So, Beth,” Cy turned to me with one side of his mouth turned up in a sexy half-grin.  “What are we doing first?”

“Well,” I blinked around, not actually having thought much beyond this part of the day. “What do you want to do?”

“Oh no, darlin’,” he quipped with a devastating wink of one jewel blue eye.  “You’re runnin’ this rodeo. I’m just along for the ride.”

The way he drawled out the word riiiide made me immediately picture something hot.  And inappropriate. Involving lots of exposed skin and my pale green bedsheets.

I swallowed and gave myself a little shake. “Okay, um, I-... I guess we can start with a few of my favorite exhibits.”

We toured around the main complex area, visiting the live coral reef tanks and touching some of the exotic fish.  Then we stepped into the “shadow camera,” contorting ourselves into strange shapes before the loud click that would freeze them onto the wall behind us. 

Everything was easy and comfortable. Nearly perfect. As we talked and laughed, Cy rarely ever let go of my hand. 

We wandered through a couple of touring exhibits involving Chinese medicine, then mummies and ancient Egyptian artifacts.  We stood in the earthquake room experiencing tremors that shook us nearly to pieces. 

“So do you bring your classes here?” he asked when we exited the earthquake room. “Is that why you come so much?”

“We do bring the kids every year, yes, but I come a lot on my own.  When I was in high school I used to volunteer for the summer camps, and when I was in college I would always come when I had a free weekend, which wasn’t very often. I worked a lot.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, staring at me with an unreadable expression.  “I’ve noticed that.  Has-... has it been okay, without the driving?”

I could feel my cheeks heating up.  I didn’t want to admit to him that money was a little tighter now, that I definitely noticed the lack of income.  Even scraping together enough for the tickets today had set me back a bit.  “N-no, no it’s fine,” I stuttered instead, shaking it off with a weak laugh.  “I’m actually enjoying having more time to myself in the evenings.  It’s been nice to relax and have some early nights before teaching the next day.”

“Hm,” he hummed, and I wondered what he was thinking about.  “Did you always know you wanted to be a teacher?”

 “Actually no,” I breathed a long breath, glad to change to a better subject. “When I was in 4th grade I wanted to be an archaeologist.  I wanted to find more mummies in Egypt.”

“Wow,” his eyebrows popped up.  “Why didn’t you?”

“Meh,” I steered us toward the giant pendulum hanging down from the massive skylight, its silver tip knocking over wooden dowels to mark the passage of time. “I realized I don’t like the heat.  I’m a winter baby.” 

“I’m the opposite,” he offered with an amused smile.  “I’ll take a sweltering summer day at the lake or by the pool.  I hate being cold.”

“Let me guess, your thermostat is cranked up to 74?”

Laughing, he nodded. “And yours is at 70?”

“68.”

“Ouch,” he gave a mock shiver.

“What about you? Did you always want to work with computers?” 

“No,” he chuckled, running his thumb across the back of my hand.  I noticed he did that without seeming to realize he was doing it.  “Like every preppy teen-aged jock I thought I’d make it big in sports.  Baseball, basketball, football, wrestling, track… the only thing I didn’t do was soccer but that wasn’t for lack of trying.  I just couldn’t fit it into my schedule.”

“So why computers?” I asked as we stopped to watch some kids digging in a sand pit for fake dinosaur bones.  Pulling my hand from his, I leaned forward on the retaining wall next to the exhibit, forearms flat on the top.  He mimicked my pose, standing next to me almost shoulder-to-shoulder.  

“Part of it was me needing to grow up,” he confessed in a low voice, not looking at me. He took a breath and settled closer so that our shoulders touched, upper arms flush.  It didn’t seem like he’d done it on purpose. “Other than sports, there wasn’t anything I was deeply passionate about.  I don’t think I was actually passionate about sports, either, but it's what all my friends did so I did it, too.” A careless shrug. “And part of it was the money.  IT consulting is stable, lucrative.  I wanted something that would give me… security.”  It felt like he’d almost said a different word.  I wondered what it was.  “So when it came time to pick a major...” Another shrug.

“I see.” I studied his profile for a moment, and then he turned to grin down at me. 

 “Not everyone has things they are so passionate about,” he murmured with another wink. “Not like you.”

I felt myself blushing again, then glanced down at his watch. 

“Oh! Cy, it’s time for my absolute favorite thing of all!” I pushed off the wall and tossed a wide smile over my shoulder, heading towards the large dome in the far corner of the complex. “Star show!”

“Star show?” he grinned back, his long legs easily catching up to me. 

“YES,” I breathed hard, barely able to contain my excitement.  “The planetarium. I love it.  Every time I come, I make sure to catch a show.” 

“Well, then,” he rumbled, coming up behind me in the line at the door and standing very close. I could feel the heat from his body curling around my shoulder blades, his low words threading through my hair.  “I can’t wait.”

We shuffled along, approaching the wide double doors. He stayed against my back, and every hair on my neck stood up as if he was electromagnetic.  Stepping into the darkened space, I took a moment to sigh at the enormous projector on the pedestal in the middle of the room before being jostled towards the seats.  It quickly became obvious that the show was going to be packed: we ended up in the 3rd and 4th seats in the fifth row opposite the main door, settling back into the plush reclining chairs. 

“Have you been to one of these before?” I whispered, something about the lack of light also requiring lack of sound.  As my eyes adjusted, I was able to make out his strong features in the dim: his eyes dark and wide in his handsome face, mouth still curved in a relaxed smile.

“No,” he murmured back, reaching once more for my hand. His gaze dropped to our fingers, and one jean-clad leg dropped to the side, pressing against mine. Our hands rested on his thigh. “First time.”

I grinned, feeling little shocks of lightning dancing along the surface of my skin where we touched. 

The room plunged into absolute darkness, expansive music rising to signal the beginning of the show. On the curved ceiling above us, pinpoints of light began winking into existence. The presenter’s voice was low and soothing, practiced, and I let it wash over me for a minute.

I’d seen this particular show a few times - one about constellations and mythology - so I spent most of the time trying to watch Cy’s face out of the corner of my eye.  His lazy smile had faded into wonderment: eyes blinking quickly as each burst of light came into focus, lips parted in a soft ‘o.’ He really was almost too beautiful to look at.  For the millionth time I wondered what the hell he was doing here with me. 

As the minutes passed, though, a subtle change gradually took over his features.  The blinking became a little more rapid - blink-blink… pause… blink-blink-blink - and his upper lip gave a little twitch. His nose wrinkled briefly as he gave a couple of discreet sniffs.

Every nerve ending I had was suddenly alight, my awareness zeroed in on him and only him. 

Was he... fighting a sneeze?

The hand not holding mine rose up, pinching his nose and then knuckling it with another sniff. I could feel tension building in the leg laying next to mine, and then in the fingers threaded through my own.  The blinking became more rapid, and there was a shine in those blue, blue eyes that hadn’t been there when they’d sat down. 

He was most definitely fighting a sneeze.

Cy’s free hand rose again to his nose, rubbing, his eyes pulling in a slight wince. Another sniff that sounded a little wetter than before.  I could tell that the intense look of concentration he was giving the ceiling had nothing to do with Polaris or Orion.  I watched him struggle with it, almost feeling it myself: his upper lip quivered, nostrils flaring noticeably. 

In the velvet darkness of the space, I swallowed down a suddenly dry throat and worried that my palms might be starting to sweat. The show wasn’t even a quarter of the way in, and I started wondering how long he could hold out. 

Cy tried to wrinkle his nose again, the accompanying sniffle this time definitely wet and dangerous.  He exhaled shakily, then inhaled sharply.  The hand rose, pinching his nostrils shut. His big body flinched, eyes crinkling and chin snapping down toward his chest.  No air escaped, not a single sound from his throat.  

Giving his head a little shake and blinking even more rapidly, he tried to settle back in the chair.  I could almost see the thoughts on his face. 

It’s just one sneeze.  Just one.  No big deal. 

The show continued for another couple of minutes.  Then, it happened again. 

The gasp.  The pinch.  The flinch. 

This time, he glanced at me. 

You okay? I mouthed, hoping my face looked innocent.

He gave a curt nod, flicking that sapphire gaze back to the presentation with another damp sniff, but his brow was furrowed.  He looked… worried. 

A few minutes or so later, another shaky breath.  Another reluctant gasp.  A third taut flinch.  I tried not to look like I was watching… but I couldn’t help it.  His thumb and forefinger stayed clamped around his nose, chin down, lashes fluttering against his cheek.  Then another flinch, shoulders jacking inward. 

I was actually slightly worried at how little it looked like he was breathing.

When the fifth cruelly stifled sneeze wracked him, he pulled his hand away from mine and switched to using it to pinch his nose closed as he shifted in the seat, other hand fumbling in his pockets. 

With a soft smile, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the clean handkerchief that he wasn’t finding quickly enough. 

Another body-shuddering flinch, and this time there was a choked sound, “-gxkt!”

“Cy,” I whispered in his ear, leaning into his shoulder and pressing the cloth to his raised wrist. Blindly, he dragged it from my fingers and leaned forward in the seat, his face almost between his knees. My hand skimmed his hard back, feeling three more tight stifles before he gave another shaky inhale.  His hands were working his nose inside the cloth, pinching and scrubbing fiercely. 

I glanced around us, checking to see if anyone else noticed what was going on, but everybody had their eyes trained skyward, the music and the presenter’s booming voice deftly covering what was happening to the man in the seat next to me.

Leaning back, Cy kept the fabric pinched around his nose, his glassy eyes blinking and wincing. His hair had fallen over his forehead into his eyes, but he didn’t rake it back.  Instead, he also glanced furtively around us.  I couldn’t tell if he was checking to see if anyone noticed or if he was trying to figure out which person sitting nearby was setting him off. I couldn’t smell any perfume, but I remembered what he had told me in the car.  His allergies to pretty much all animals. That this happened a lot, actually.

I gave a little chuff of a laugh, thinking how often he found himself without tissues or a handkerchief. 

Still keeping an eye on him - without obviously staring - I watched as he stubbornly swallowed back another pair of sneezes, Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously at his throat.  The sheen in his eyes was threatening to spill over from the violence of it. 

Lightning was sparking through my bloodstream, and I definitely felt overheated. 

Another trio of flinches, this time unable to be completely silenced.  “Nxgt!-h’kxt!-... b’GXshh!” Those little noises slayed me.

But now I was torn.  Knowing there was at least another twenty minutes of the show, knowing there was no way he was able to pay attention to it now, and knowing that it wasn’t good for him to be stifling this much… 

… but also so completely turned on it was painful.

Cy was sitting in post-sneeze position, eyes shut, barely seeming even to breathe.  Another vicious flinch - “Hk’gXnts!” - and an almost imperceptible moan.

That decided it. 

Turning to the teen-aged girls sitting in seats 1 and 2, I whispered, “I’m sorry, excuse us,” as I wrapped both my hands around Cy’s bicep - not able to get my fingers all the way around, it was so big - and gently hauling him to his feet.  I felt the small jump he gave at first, and then the tension that drained away as his shoulders slumped.  We stepped over both people’s legs, and I ducked us quickly over to an emergency exit.  He choked down two more almost-silent sneezes.

There was a set of restrooms nearby and because the show was still going on there wasn’t anyone inside. I pushed him into the Men’s, then went around the corner to find a bench and wait it out. 

As tempted as I was to stay just outside the door and listen… I knew I needed to calm my lady bits down. Instead, I was reading a book on my phone thirty minutes later when he returned, eyes puffy, nose red and uncomfortable-looking. 

Actually, on second glance, his entire face was red and uncomfortable-looking. Those watery blue eyes were fixed on the ground, his shoulders set, jaw tense.

“I’ll, ub,” he started, voice gone hoarse and congested. He had to clear his throat. “I’ll drive you bagck dow.”

I stood and cocked my head at him, confused.  “You want to go home?”

His big body jumped, face snapping to mine as his eyes widened.  “D-... dod’t you?”

I smiled at his gorgeous, clueless, allergic face.  “I hadn’t planned on it.  But if you’re not feeling well--”

“I’b--” he began, but then his face crumpled in a combination of god, not more and classic pre-sneeze.  I watched as his broad chest expanded in a series of quick, unsteady inhales. “Hahh--hhh! --uhhh-hehh-hhehHH??...” The moment seemed to stretch out, solid things inside of me turned liquid, molten.  Finally, he pulled his own handkerchief from his pocket and turned his back, his long body folded almost in half with two drenching explosions.  “heh-GSSSCHt- -ahh-GSSCHu!...”

 “Here,” I slipped my phone into my pocket and stepped close, wrapping one arm around his trim waist. “Let’s get outside for a bit.”

“…by truck,” he mumbled behind the folds of fabric. “...bedicide…”

“Good plan,” I patted his back, then raised my hand to stroke the back of his neck. 

“I’b sor--”

“Don’t you dare apologize, mister,” I chirped at him, raising up on my toes and pressing a soft kiss to his warm cheek.  The slightly damp handkerchief brushed my chin.  “I’ve said it before. I’ll say it again,” stepping in front of him, I stared into his teary, beautiful eyes with a soft smile.  “I don’t mind.”

 

Edited August 24, 2021 by starpollen

[darkness-is-the-light]

I have been silently following this story, but decided to finally say something. I love reading everything you write, and this is no exception. They are so unbelievably cute together and I adore how Cy keeps thinking that Beth will be disgusted by him, but it’s so much the opposite. Seemingly confident men who are actually shy is such a weak spot for me. I’m looking forward to when Cy finds out just why Beth isn’t disgusted…

[Kolen]

1 hour ago, Sophie83540 said:

I have been silently following this story, but decided to finally say something. I love reading everything you write, and this is no exception. They are so unbelievably cute together and I adore how Cy keeps thinking that Beth will be disgusted by him, but it’s so much the opposite. Seemingly confident men who are actually shy is such a weak spot for me. I’m looking forward to when Cy finds out just why Beth isn’t disgusted…

That last part.. got me wondering.. when will he find out? What's he gonna do when he does..? Thanks for asking that question for me, <Sophie83540>🥰🥰

[rockbell]

I'm completely obsessed with them!!! I can't wait to read what happens next 

[HowFitting]

This is SOOOO great!!!!! Love the writing style, the story, the characters, everything. Cant wait to read more!!!

[EveP]

All I can say is... Oooh! <3

[starpollen]

I had some unexpected free time today, so I was able to get another part finished.   As with the mirror to this part, no sneezing yet.  But you already know what's coming, so...

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The Weekend - Part 3
Cy 

Even though it was Saturday, I’d been awake since 5:00 a.m., too excited by the idea of spending the day with Beth to sleep a minute longer.  

After pushing my body through a grueling, sweat-soaked workout and then a long, pounding shower, I’d stood in front of my closet blinking at my clothes.  She’d told me to dress for both indoor and outdoor activities, but that left a Texas-sized pasture of wiggle room for interpretation. 

Finally I settled on a comfortable pair of dark jeans and a light sweater.  It was early fall, so the air didn’t have that bite in it that would come in a few weeks and grip until April, but every once in a while a breeze picked up and delivered a hint of what’s coming.  Taking way too long to try to tame my thick hair, I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. 

My dad’s ice blue eyes stared back at me. 

Blinking, I wondered for about the millionth time about getting colored contacts. 

Then, I pictured her.  Warm, doe-brown eyes that were soft and peaceful and accepting of everything that stepped in front of her.  Even me.  And I couldn’t help but smile, feeling that balloon that floated gently in my chest.

Loading myself up with all my morning meds, though, brought me back to earth.  A glance at the left-hand drawer of my bathroom vanity looked like I knocked over a pharmacy.  Scowling, I tucked an uncomfortable stiff handkerchief into my back pocket and took an extra dose of meds with me for the day ahead, just in case.

I definitely didn’t want a repeat of last night. 

Fuck, I was a mess... 

I shoved that thought into a back corner closet in my mind and slammed the door, heading to my home office to make a few unavoidable work-related calls.  Then I prepared to meet her, hauling my 6’3” frame into the driver’s side of my Bronco and tossing the meds into the glove box.  I used to have a flashy Aston Martin, but it was a lot of work to get my large body in and out of it and I didn’t really enjoy feeling like I was laying down while driving.  I much preferred the lifted SUV, more comfortable looking down on other cars rather than up at them.

Deliberately leaving the house early, I was surprised to pull into the strip mall parking lot and see Beth’s car already there.  

She was wearing a light green cardigan sweater set that perfectly complemented her strawberry-blonde curls and gorgeous brown eyes.  Skimming my gaze down revealed a slightly flared black skirt that hit just below mid-thigh, and matching green ballet flats.  Comfortable and casual, but hugging her curves in all the right places...

I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. She was just fucking perfect.

“Open up your back, uh, hatch?” she told me with a bright grin. “And then turn around and close your eyes.”

“Um... okay.” I got back into the SUV and popped the handle for the back hatch.

“No peeking!” she called out, and I heard the shuffling of mysterious things.  

“I’m not,” I called back with a chuckle, putting my hands over my eyes. It felt a little silly, but I was in a playful, cheery mood. “You sure you don’t need any help?”

“Nope, I got it.”

After some more rustling and the beep-beep of her remote locking her car, I heard my passenger door open and the slide of smooth skin on the leather seat.

Damn, now I was thinking about her thighs…  Get it together, Decker.

“Can I look now?” I asked.  “Going to be a little hard to drive anywhere like this.” 

“Yes, silly, you can look now,” she responded, and I could hear the smile that warmed her beautiful voice.

Lowering my hands, I turned towards her with what I knew was a helplessly goofy grin on my face.  Then I noticed her holding one of those trendy Yeti coffee tumblers out to me.  “What’s this?”  

“This one’s yours,” she replied, pressing it into my hands.  I could feel how warm it was. “Coffee, light on the sugar.”

I was very particular about my coffee. Some people are like that about wine or beer.  I’m like that about coffee.  So, I admit that I was a little skeptical. Taking a cautious sip, I closed my eyes and moaned. It was perfect: a smooth chocolate taste, followed by an aftertaste that was mellow, rich and deep, with just the slightest wisp of dry smoked wood... 

“Ohhh god, that’s good...  What blend is this?” She might have just ruined all other coffee for me forever.

“Ah-ah,” she lifted a finger and wagged it at me, doe-eyes shining. “A girl has to have some secrets.”

She took a sip of her coffee, then her tongue flicked out to lick her lower lip.  My gaze snagged on it, frozen to the spot.  “I have a feeling you’ve got more than enough secrets to keep me busy for a long time,” I murmured. 

God, I wanted to kiss those lips, find out if they were as petal-soft as they looked...

I hadn’t tried to kiss her at the end of our date last night.  I’d wanted to - badly - but couldn’t bring myself to put my nasty face anywhere near her.  All the snot and spit and tears that come along with one of those embarrassing episodes are about the furthest thing from ‘sexy’ you can get. I had apologized about ten times as I’d walked her to her car, even though she kept telling me that I didn’t need to.

I still couldn’t believe that this gorgeous girl was giving me yet another chance. 

As if she could tell I was thinking about kissing her, her cheeks heated with an adorable blush, head ducking down to take a long gulp of her coffee.  I took a gulp of mine before placing the Yeti in one of the cupholders between us and turning the key in the ignition.  

“Okay,” I flashed a grin at her, determined to focus on her and only her for the entire day.  “Where to?”

She gave me brief but enigmatic directions to get us to a rarely used back road.  Then, she told me to:

“Drive.”

I glanced at her, brows drawn together in confusion.  “Just… drive?”

She smiled at me, taking another sip of coffee and blinked at me over the rim.  “Yes. Just drive.”  Then she licked her lips again and I almost swerved us off the road. This girl was so damned beautiful. Breathe, man, breathe. “I’ll tell you when we need to turn.”

“Okay,” I grunted, the fingers of my left hand gripping the wheel and forcing myself to take a steadying breath.  She reached between us to turn on my stereo and cranked up whatever playlist I had currently loaded.  Then… she reached over and took my right hand in hers.

It felt natural. Right. Perfect.

I’m sure my face reflected the sudden crashing array of emotions that rocked between my head and my chest with startling speed: surprise, confusion, lust, longing, fear, comfort… happiness.  I hadn’t felt this happy about something in a long time. My mouth slowly pulled into a wide, lazy smile, my fingers spreading to lace with hers, palms pressing tight together. 

“You remembered,” I murmured, settling into the driver’s seat and cocking one knee against the door, left hand languidly draped over the wheel as we pulled away.  It was all I could do not to bring our joined hands up to my lips, to feel her knuckles pressed against them, to take in the scent of her skin…

I didn’t do it, because I really needed to focus on not killing us.

We drove for about two hours, sometimes engaging in conversation but most often enjoying the music in our ears and the rhythm of the road in our bones.  She asked me about my first car - an old clunker of a Ford that had belonged to my granddaddy - and we traded stories of minor traffic violations and college parking tickets, eventually playing 20 Questions.  

“Favorite color.” she began.

“Blue,” I gave the ‘safe’ answer; not ice blue, not the blue of my eyes, but a dark midnight blue… although my brain was currently flipping between the strawberry-gold of her hair or the shaded forest-pond of her eyes as my new favorite color… Slow down, don’t scare her away. Stick with the ‘safe’ answer. “Yours?”

“Green.  Favorite ice cream flavor.”

“Hm, that’s a tough one… probably Rocky Road.  And?”

“Strawberry sorbet.”

“Sorbet is not an ice cream,” I teased, letting my fingers languidly stroke her palm.

“Why not?”

“Ice creams need cream, obviously,” I explained, glancing at her sideways. “Sorbet is a different frozen dessert.  I thought a cook like you would know that.”

She laughed, shifting to pull one foot up under her rear and turning her body more toward me.  It caused the skirt to shift a little, and I had to swallow a groan at the flash of pale upper thigh.  “I cook. I don’t bake.  Desserts fall squarely in the baking category, hot or cold.”  One hand smoothed the skirt back into place.

“Damn,” I gave a wounded huff and shook my head slowly.  I hadn’t wanted her to do that. Although if that skirt had ridden up any higher... “Not a baker.  That’s a shame.  I love homemade pie.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned all her focus towards me.  “I can bake.  But I believe there is a fundamental difference between someone who is inherently a cook versus someone who is inherently a baker.  Bakers are precise, and have long attention spans, and focus on details.  Baking is science.  Cooks just throw stuff together and pray it works out.”

Adjusting my grip on her hand so that my thumb could stroke across the back of it, I grinned at the road.  “So, you wouldn’t say you’re a methodical, scientific sort of person?  You’re not - what’s it called - Type A?”

Her teeth briefly caught her lower lip in a move so adorable I wanted to take a picture of it. “I’m a planner, and I like to be organized.  I think anybody who cooks or bakes has to have those qualities.  But I don’t find joy or peace or satisfaction in the rigor of baking.  In fact, it intimidates me a little bit.  I can make pretty yummy cookies and cupcakes and - yes - pretty great pies at Thanksgiving, but… for example, I struggle with bread. It just never turns out quite right. Something so simple that people have been making for millenia and I can’t seem to figure it out.”  She blew a frustrated breath, pouting at my windshield. 

There was a moment of quiet. I loved that she could admit something about herself that wasn’t perfect, that there was some kind of flaw.  Although, to me, it made her even more attractive. I loved how passionate she was about everything she talked about, that she was so open, so honest.  I wanted to gift her something like that. 

Which is how I found myself saying...

“I can’t swim.”

She blinked, turning to stare at me in disbelief.  “You… you can’t--”

“Swim,” I finished, fidgeting uncomfortably and withdrawing my hand to run my fingers through my hair. Damn, why had I told her that?... There were flashes going on behind my eyes: a freezing lake, a painful shove, the white-hot terror as I sank...  “I-- … without going into all the details... it’s not something I’ve--” Again, not second-date material, Decker.  I forced myself out of my head, giving her a sheepish smile and a small shrug.  “I can’t seem to figure it out.”

She looked at me for long moments, seeming to notice far more than I hoped she did.  We hadn’t yet talked about my family, about any of my life before high school.  I wanted to... and I didn’t.  I wanted Beth to know me - all of me - as much as I wanted to know all of her.  But…  

Her face slowly bloomed into an accepting, encouraging smile.  Then, she reached across to take back my hand.  And squeezed.

Something in my chest shifted - cracked - and I squeezed back. She got it. Got me.

Thank you.

We fell back into an easy silence, her murmured directions keeping us to the back roads where there was a lot of scenery and almost no traffic. When a particularly good song came on, Beth would turn it up and we’d both sing along. Her voice was beautiful.  Mine was slightly off-key but she didn’t seem to mind.  After a while, I was loose and relaxed, former flashes forgotten.

The last turn we made eased us onto the highway that led into the capital city.  It was just shy of noon, and I was beginning to wonder where we would end up.

“You hungry?” she asked. 

“Yes,” I replied, unable to keep the heat from my gaze as I glanced at her.  That last time she had leaned forward to adjust the radio, the back of her cardigan had pulled up to reveal a sliver of pale skin just above her waistband. It had sent my thoughts into overdrive. 

I knew I was slowly falling for her amazing mind and her shy heart, but I couldn’t deny that my body really wanted her, too.

“U-um,” she stumbled, a delicate flush painting her cheeks. God, I loved it when she blushed like that.  “Take exit 184.”

A few minutes later, we were pulling into the parking lot of the massive science museum complex.  “This is definitely a surprise,” I said as I swung the gear shift into park. “I haven’t been here in years.”

“It’s one of my favorite places,” she admitted shyly, suddenly seeming self-conscious, like she was second-guessing herself.  

I smiled at her, every speck of happiness floating through me like I was a little kid again. Like I’d felt before… Nope.  Focus on her.  “I like surprises.  But, last I heard, the food here was a little…”

“Cafeteria?” 

“Yeah,” I said with a low chuckle, still amazed that she seemed to pick up so easily on my thoughts.

“No worries,” she lifted her chin with a sly grin.  “I’ve got that covered.” We both got out and she walked around to the back hatch.  “Pop ‘er open.”

I did, then came around to see what she was unloading. 

“A picnic basket,” I looked at her with raised brows and a disbelieving smile. Was this girl for real?... I almost pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

“And a blanket,” she blushed again, canting her head down as if once again second-guessing.

“This just keeps getting better and better,” I murmured, unable to stop my hand from coming up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. As I imagined it would be, it was silky soft.  I had to force myself not to let my fingers dive into her thick curls.  Reaching down, I plucked the basket from her hands and reached around to take the rolled up blanket and tuck it under my arm. When my body came close to hers, it was as if electrical sparks were jumping between us. Her light scent was intoxicating. “Lead the way,” I said, slipping my free hand into hers. 

Holding hands was safe.  Holding hands was second-date material.  Keep it together, Decker.

She led us to an area of the grounds outside that was landscaped with various paths of pebbles and some stone benches, but also an expanse of green grass that crested up a hill.  I set the basket in the grass and we spread the blanket together, settling down for lunch. 

Opening the wicker lid, she took out the next surprise.  “For you, good sir,” handing over the paper-wrapped foot long.

“Really?” I smirked at her, leaning on one elbow as my legs stretched out.  “A Subway sandwich.”

Grinning like a cat, she sat cross-legged and pulled out a paper-wrapped six-inch for herself, then a couple of water bottles and some boxes of fruits and cheeses.  “I hope I got it right.”

I wasn’t worried. Beth was proving to be extremely observant, with a mind like a steel trap.  Somehow I knew she would remember exactly what I had told her last night about my favorite sandwich. Unwrapping one end, I took a bite.  “Mmmmmm,” I groaned with pleasure. Perfect.  It was even still a little warm from being toasted, and how she had managed that I had no idea. “Woman, you slay me.” 

We ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the blue sky and light clouds and gentle breeze.  Because we were in the city, we could still hear some traffic but otherwise it was peaceful.    

When both sandwiches were gone and most of the fruit and cheese consumed, I helped her pack everything back into the basket.  This time there was room for the blanket.   And then she pulled two slips of paper from her back pocket. 

I studied them, and then gazed into those hypnotic dark eyes.  “A long drive,” I murmured slowly, thoughtfully. “Two Yetis with coffee. A picnic basket with two Subway sandwiches, fruits and cheeses, a blanket, and two tickets to the science museum.” My low laughter was colored by wonder, disbelief.  “Remember at the restaurant when I said I loved how your mind works?”

She nodded shyly, chin down and eyes peeking up at me through long lashes. It made my heart slam hard and unsteady against my ribs.

“Understatement of the year.”

 

Edited August 26, 2021 by starpollen

[EveP]

I love these characters and can't wait for the next part. 😊

[rockbell]

I just 😍😍😍

[Tassielli]

Wow apparently I missed a few updates. 
 

I love these two and I love your writing. The thermostat bit had me dying because I am such a winter person. 

[Kolen]

Eeee!! Thanks you 🥺😃🥰😍🤤😉♥️😘❣😮

[2SHY222]

Beautiful! Absolutely Beautiful 💕

[Privatedancer]

Loving this and really looking forward to Cy’s version of the last section.  I do hope Beth can convince Cy that she isn’t going anywhere and isn’t put off by his allergies.  Even aside from the fetish, I think a strong person’s vulnerabilities can be what attracts you to them- like you are the one they let their guard down for and know they are safe with.

[Freshair]

I think Cy said it best:

"Woman, you slay me!" 😍