“There’s more.” I lift my head, and my eyes practically bug out of my head when he dangles a chain in front of me.
“Is that—?” I shake my head. It can’t be.
“Yeah, I attached the dog tag you had made to my actual dog tags. I wore it the entire time I was in the Army.”
“You did?”
When I was a lovesick high schooler and found out Aiden was planning to join the military after graduation, I had a dog tag engraved with a quote from Vince Lombardi, considered the greatest football coach of all-time by all Wisconsinites – Before I can embrace freedom, I should be aware of what duties I have. I broke into Aiden’s locker – having ex-military uncles is extremely useful – and put the dog tag in there. I always wondered why I didn’t get harassed about my gift.
Damn. How can I not forgive him when he took my gift and kept it close to him all those years? Did he think of me when he looked at it? I put the kibosh on those thoughts. It doesn’t matter. We’re moving on. Starting now.
“Okay. I forgive you. I promise I’ll try not to bring up our high school years any longer.” Notice I said I’ll try. I’m a woman. It’s my prerogative to bring up shit decades old when we fight.
“Thank you.” He leans across the table to kiss my forehead.
We finish our meal – which is delicious by the way – and he drives me home. I’m not inviting him in. I’m not. My body might be ready to jump him, but my head and heart need more time. He walks me to my front door.
“Thank you for a lovely evening.”
He smirks before grabbing my hips and pulling me close. “You’re welcome,” he whispers as his head slowly descends. My eyes stare at his mouth as I lick my lips in anticipation. He groans before smashing his lips to mine. I gasp and he takes the opportunity to thrust his tongue into my mouth. I drop my purse and reach up to grab his shoulders to pull him closer.
He tilts his head as his tongue explores deeper into my mouth. I moan. He tastes even better than I imagined he could all those years ago.
“Shit.” He pulls away.
I’m disorientated and puffing for breath. “What? Why are you stopping?”
“Phone,” he grunts before grabbing the offending object. “What?” He listens for a few seconds before his face falls. “One sec.” He places the phone against his chest. “I’m sorry, honey, I need to get to work.”
“Okay.” I sigh. “Be safe.”
He kisses my forehead. “Thank you.” Before I have a chance to ask him what he’s thanking me for, he waves and jogs down the sidewalk to his SUV while talking into his phone.