And honestly, I was just the teeniest bit nervous. In some ways, this felt like a first date, filled with all the unknowns, good and bad.
For a couple of weeks now, I'd been dating the boy next door – this incredibly sweet guy who had walked my dog and carried me shirtless across his lawn. He plied me with popcorn and woke me with kisses. We shared a fence, a love of comedies, and a loathing of seafood.
His public persona was very different. That guy wasn't mine. The boy next door was, or at least it felt that way.
After tonight, would I see him the same way? More to the point, how would he see me? I wasn't a Brittney. I wouldn’t dance on the table or squeal like a groupie. No, if I squealed near Lawton, it was for reasons entirely unrelated to his celebrity status.
On the Parkers' front steps, my question hung in the air. Maybe Lawton was having second thoughts about going out too.
As I stroked his jaw, he closed his eyes, and his lips parted ever so slightly. And then, as if the action took far more effort than it should have, he pulled away. "Hell yeah, I want to go out." He reached up to his face, placing his hand over mine. "It's your birthday, remember?"
"Not until tomorrow," I reminded him. "
"Then we'll celebrate at midnight," he said.
Out in the driveway, a car was waiting for us, but it wasn't his usual hot-rod. It was a sleek, black limo sport utility vehicle with tinted windows and a smartly dressed driver, who opened a rear door and closed it behind us after we settled ourselves inside.
Alone with Lawton, I edged close to him and leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Can I confess something?"
"Anything."
"This reminds me of prom."
He laughed. "Yeah?"
"A little," I said. "Except we didn't have a limo." I eyed the setup in front of us. "Or a fully stocked bar." I grinned over at him. "Hey, is that champagne?"
"Oh yeah. It's a celebration." He put an arm around me, pulling me close. "My girl's birthday.
The way he said "my girl" sent a happy tingle from my ears straight down to my toes, stopping at a couple of key places along the way. "Your girl, huh?"
"Yeah." His gaze met mine, and I found myself lost in the moment, oblivious to everything but him, and the restrained intensity of his words as he added, "If I have anything to say about it."
Slowly, I nodded, forgetting that he hadn't exactly phrased it as a question. I felt my tongue dart out between my lips for the briefest instant before I caught myself. If my thoughts kept going on their current trajectory, we'd never make it out of the limo.
He leaned forward to pour us each a glass. "To you," he said, before giving my champagne glass a little clink with his own and downing the whole glass in one, long drink.
"Wow," I said. I wasn't much of a drinker, but the champagne was too fabulous to resist. It took me a little longer, but I drank until my own glass was empty and then grinned up at him. "So why the limo?" I asked.
He met my smile. "Aside from the fact it's a celebration?"
I nodded.
"How about this?" he said, leaning back against the leather seat. "I'm gonna skip answering just yet. At the end of the night, maybe you can tell me."
I narrowed my gaze in mock suspicion. "So there's gonna be a quiz? No one said anything about a quiz."
He leaned his head close to mine until our foreheads were touching. "Lemme give you one reason right now." His arms closed tight around me, and a moment later, our lips met softly at first and then not so softly.
I ran a hand behind his neck, feeling the thick strands of his hair sift over my fingertips as I savored the feel of his lips on mine.
When he pulled away, I was breathless and hungry for more.
"See?" he said.
"What?"
"Why it's better if I'm not driving."
