16 Just One More Night

"JUST ONE MORE NIGHT"

My dad looked up from his phone when I came down the stairs wearing a dress, booties, and a light jean jacket.

"You look fancy." He observed. "Where are you going?"

"No idea." I joined him on the couch, resting my head on his shoulder. "When I get back, we should watch a movie"

"Faye, I'm fine," he insisted. I'd heard that a lot from him since my mom left for a second time. Now that she stormed out of the house with even more clothes, I figured she wasn't coming back for a while.

I couldn't tell if my dad was simply over her antics, or he had hope she'd calm down and come back, but he wasn't as broken up as last time.

"I might not be here when you get back," he told me. "Poker night at Jackson's."

That meant he'd be out until at least two in the morning. Thankfully his job was flexible, so he'd be able to sleep off his hangover tomorrow.

The doorbell rang and I popped up. I'd been able to keep the nerves at bay all day. But I felt like I could puke.

My dad gave me weird look. "You know that was on the tv, right?"

I settled back into the couch, face burning. "Obviously," I mumbled.

He laughed, then he took in my outfit again. "You're waiting for that Conway boy, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. Why? Do you have a problem with him?" I asked, checking my hair in the reflection of my phone.

"Yes, he's too polite," he said simply. "He comes to the door instead of texting or honking. He cleans the kitchen without being asked. Worst of all, he has you grinning like that."

I hadn't realized I'd been smiling until he pointed it out. Pressing my lips into a flat line, I turned to him. "How are those bad things?"

"Because that's the kind of boy my little girl deserves," he admitted with a sigh.

My dad giving Peter his seal of approval was very unexpected. He wasn't as vocal as my mom about my poor choice in boys, but he never liked them. He perfected his glare over the years thanks to the boys Sabrina and I brought over.

"But you're still a seven year old missing her front teeth and shouldn't be dating." He turned back to the tv. "I'm conflicted."

I smiled at his words. "Sorry to break it to you, but I have all my adult teeth now."

"Well, doesn't mean I have to like it," he grumbled.

The doorbell rang again, that time it wasn't the tv. Peter was there. It was time for our real date. The first and last.

My heart was ready to jump out of my chest as I stood from the couch and made my way to the door.

When I opened the door, I was greeted by Peter and his heart stopping smile. Had he always been this handsome? I mean, I knew he was cute, but this...

I'd been so focused on his face I almost didn't noticed his shirt. A plain black short sleeved button-up.

"No band shirt today?" I was only slightly disappointed. I enjoyed seeing his collection.

He tapped the corner of his chest. Over the pocket, in small white letters, read Pink Floyd.

A smile spread across my face. "I like it."

Somehow, his lips spread even wider. "Thank you."

I glanced down at my booties. He raked his hand through his hair. We'd been hanging out all summer, but slap a lable on it a suddenly we were blushing and didn't know what to do with ourselves.

"The AC is on," my dad announced from the living room. "So, shut the door."

"Sorry, Mr. Moore!" Peter held out his hand and I took it as I stepped outside and closed the door.

"You look gorgeous by the way," he told me as we headed to his car.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm on to you, Peter Conway."

His brows lifted. "What do you mean?"

"You ask me on a date. Compliment me. You're trying to get me to to be nice," I said a fake accusatory tone. "To say words like 'thank you' and 'please'."

He chuckled, opening the car door for me. "You caught me. The mayors withholding the key to the city until I can teach you some manners."

I stepped into the car and he shut the door.

"Between me and you, though," he said once he was in the driver's seat. "Having the key to the city isn't worth it if it means changing you."

My insides were goo. "Shut up."

He smirked, starting the car. "That's my girl."

I thought this date was going to be hard on Peter, but I seemed to be the only one struggling. He came prepared and confident. I, on the other hand, was stiff and unsure of what to do or say. I was overthinking it.

Peter was right yesterday, I was afraid of the date going so well it made me take back my decision. But for the first time I began to wonder what really scared me the most--Me hurting him or him hurting me.

I was starting to think it was the latter.

"So..." Peter cleared his throat, pulling me back to the present. "I was going to get you flowers, but you seem like you'd be annoyed with the burden of trying to keep a plant alive."

My mouth twitched into a smile. "That's true, actually."

He was happy to have guessed right. "I made you a playlist instead."

He fiddled with his phone and suddenly Black Butterflies and Déjà Vu by The Main came in through the speakers.

I'd never heard the song before, so as we drove, I paid attention to the lyrics.

There are only twenty

Six letters I can use

Just to tell you I won't let go

Don't you let go

He was pulling out all the stops for this date. I had to admire him for it.

We drove and listened to Peter's carefully curated playlist of songs that all had the similar theme of "I will fight for us to be together". Imagining him up late into the night, picking all the right songs to convey this message did things to my insides. No guy had ever cared that much for me or spoke my language when it came to my love of music.

After a half an hour or so of music and idle chatter about random things, Peter parked in the lot of a museum. A square structure with a million steps leading up to the entrance. I looked up at it, squinting in the sun that hadn't fully set yet.

"A museum date," I said, as we made the hike up the stairs. "How sophisticated."

"This isn't just any museum, it's home to the interactive Alexz Knox exhibit."

Alexz Knox used to be a super famous musician in the nineties. Now she made art and held charity events to keep music programs alive in schools.

At least that's what the sign we just passed said. I'd never heard of her personally. But Peter seemed to be a fan. Which made me a fan.

He showed our tickets to person at the booth when we walked in and led us to the Alexz Knox exhibit.

I didn't know what I was in store for, but I was pleasantly surprised when we walked in.

It was art and music wrapped into one. Sculptures of instruments twice the size of me decorated the space. Even better, everything seemed to be functional.

Peter and I worked together, plucking the strings of the twelve foot guitar. I got a stitch in my side from laughing as he jumped up to bang the drums. His hair a blond cloud, flopping around with each jump.

"This is really cool," I said as we walked around, looking at all the other instruments.

He smiled at me, our shoulders bumping as we walked close together. "I had a feeling you'd enjoy it. Not to brag, but I'm pretty good at reading people."

I figured that out yesterday when he called me out for dragging our fake relationship out. He hid his knowledge of it so well, too.

"Is there anything you aren't good at?" I asked, looking through the holes of a giant piccolo like a telescope.

"Getting my fake girlfriend to take my real feelings for her seriously," he said, his head popping into view at the other end of the piccolo.

I glared at him over the instrument. He my gaze with a goofy grin.

"You'll get over it," I said, turning my attention to a tambourine and giving it a few shakes. The jingle of cymbals rang through the space.

"I don't think I will." He come up behind me, his chest pressed against my back as he reached over my shoulder to touch the instrument. "You're not easy to forget."

I glanced at him, keeping my face from showing him how much I like him being close. "You're laying it on pretty thick."

"I have to make up for you stonewalling me."

I turned to face him head on. He didn't step back so we were chest to chest. "What are saying?"

"We're supposed to be on a real date," he pointed out. "But you're distant."

"We're literally so close right now that air can't pass between us."

"I don't mean physically." He put his hands in his pockets. "Why are you afraid to let your guard down?"

I met his storm like gaze. The truth sat at the tip of my tongue. I'm afraid to let myself fully fall for you. But my mouth stayed clamped shut. Only an hour into our date and he was already stripping me of resolve.

"Excuse me, I see a distraction." I stepped around him and head for a huge piano.

He chuckled behind me as he followed.

The wooden studio piano looked a lot like the one in my garage, except taller. The keys were just above my head. If I stood on my tip toes I could reach them. Just as I started playing, something tickled the back of my thigh.

Peter's head popped out from between my knees and suddenly I was on his shoulder. It took me by surprise and I might have accidentally pulled his hair as I tried to keep from falling backwards.

I looked down at him, laughing at the accomplished smirk on his lips. "A little warning would've been nice."

"Life doesn't come with a warning," he threw back.

I shook my head at his corniness. Now that I had a better view of the keys, I started playing the first song that came to my head. The song I started but never finished that night I met Peter's brothers. The night we hugged and I felt the first flutter of feelings for him.

Thinking back on it now, I should've ran for the hills then. But Cherry was right, without him, this summer could've looked very different. I would've been in my room, spending every day of my summer being yelled at by my mom.

Since spending time with Peter, I've done things I haven't before. Like choosing to be civil with my mom, even though that blew up in my face. I even picked up trash on the beach and didn't entirely hate it. That might've had more to do with being near Peter, honestly.

He liked me as I was. He didn't push me to change or to be a different, nicer, version of myself. He understood me in a way that not many people did.

That scared me the most. He was Mr. Perfect and I was...me.

He was okay with my constant sarcasm now, but the novelty would wear off. Where would that leave us then? Where would it leave me?

A small wave if applause pulled me back into the moment. I hadn't noticed the small crowd of people who stopped to listen to my song. I looked down at Peter who already had his head tilted up, smiling up at me. That smile had my temperature rising.

And, just like my performances at the strip mall, a security guard came to ruin the fun. The rent-a-cop pointed to a sign that definitely wasn't there before. A stick figure sitting on the shoulders of another stick figure with a glaring red 'X' through it.

Peter set me on the ground, apologizing to the guard. Once we were out of view of security we dissolved into laughter.

"I haven't heard that one before," Peter said as we continued exploring the exhibit.

"It's not done yet."

"I liked it. It makes me think of sitting on the roof of Cloud Creamery on a sunny day with ice cream and..." his gaze shifted to me. "Someone to share it with."

"That's very specific."

He shrugged. "It's why I like music. Whenever I hear a song, I get these scenes in my head like a movie."

If Cherry were there, she'd use this as proof of Peter being my soul mate.  Because the scene he described is the same one I wrote about. I was glad I kept the lyrics to myself and only played the music.

"Why Cloud Creamery?" I asked.

We stopped at a large French horn. He looked at me through the intricate design of tubes.

"Because up there was where I met the real Faye Moore." He stepped around the horn to meet me on the other side. "That first night, after Daniel's party, I realized there was a lot more to you than talking back to teachers and getting detention."

I glanced at the tiled floor, my face flushing. "Those are my two best skills."

"That night you talked about risk taking and how each bad experience is a learning lesson." He moved closer, a look in eyes like I was the coolest thing since solar panels. "I knew right then that I wanted to know everything about you."

"Trust me, I get less interesting the closer you look."

"That couldn't be further from the truth." His fingers brushed my cheek as he tucked a some of my hair behind me ear. "There are so many amazing things about you."

I brought my eyes up to him, his expression warm and inviting. My chest tightened as I tried to remember to breathe. "You can compliment me all you want, but I'm not dropping the 'T' word."

His laugh rumbled deep in my chest. "Okay. Are you ready for part two?"

My head tilted to the side. "There's more?"

***

Peter lead me to a different floor if the museum. We passed beautiful paintings, gorgeous sculptures, and interesting photos.

We stopped in front of a closed door with a keypad. To my surprise, Peter knew the code. The door beeped open and he ushered me in first.

The room was bright, with a green carpet that looked like grass. The walls were blue, moving clouds projected on them. Giant colorful butterflies made of glass hung from the ceiling.

At the center of the room was a picnic blanket and a brown wicker basket filled with snacks and drinks.

My jaw went slack as I walked into the room, lightly touching a purple glass butterfly. There was a slight breeze in the room. Ambient sounds played over a hidden speaker, making it seem like we were at a park and not a room in the museum.

I slowly turned back to Peter. He watched me, beaming as he rubbed the back if his neck. Suddenly shy. "What is this?"

"Brynleigh, Aaron's girlfriend, her parents work here," he explained. "He got her to pull some strings for me."

His brother helped him plan this date?

"Evan saw you flip me off yesterday and thought you were mad at me," he explained. "He got the rest of my brother's together. They basically told me that if I screwed things up with you, they'd disown me."

I could see the four older Conways giving their little brother dating advice. Peter seemed so disconnected from his brothers. What if this, having a girlfriend, made him feel like less of an outcast among his siblings?

"I think they like you more than me." He laughed like it was a joke, but I felt he believed it.

"That's not true," I told him. "I think they're just happy the can relate to you on some level."

There was a tinge of pink in his cheeks as he ran a hand through his hair. He cleared his throat and motioned to the picnic blanket. "Let's sit."

We sat on the blanket and Peter opened the basket. "Aaron suggested a five course meal, but Brynleigh said if we got a single crumb anywhere but the blanket, we'd be taken out back and shot execution style."

"Violent."

"Right. So we have foods that produce minimal crumbs. Like cheese and grapes. And..." He pulled out a bag of Skittles. "For the chocolate hater."

I laughed, accepting the candy. "How'd you know these were my favorite?"

"Sixth grade," he said, wrapping his arms around his lifted knee. "I sold candy to raise funds for a water bottle filling station. You bought every bag of Skittles I had."

The corners if my mouth lifted.

"Its weird to think that we've been around each other practically our whole lives, but only got to know each other now," he mused. "Must mean something, right?"

I rolled my eyes, a smile still playing on lips as I reached into the basket for a grape. "You sound like Cherry. She thinks we're soul mates."

A slow grin spread across his face. "Cherry approves of us?"

Why did I expect him to think it was as ridiculous as I did?

"Your best friend wants us together," he said, popping a cube of cheese into his mouth. "So do my brothers and we both know where I stand. You seem to be the only hold out."

I turned to face him fully. The picnic basket the only thing separating us. "You've never had a girlfriend."

His brows pinched together. "So...It's because I'm inexperienced?"

"Yes. I could just be a phase for you."

"You're not--"

"How can you know that?"

"Because I do!"

I looked down at my lap, shaking my head. "Peter--"

"Just because I haven't dated doesn't mean I haven't thought about it. Girls have asked me out, I wasn't interested. " He moved the basket aside, coming closer to me. I could feel him in front of me, but I kept my head down. "The ladies love environmentally conscious guys."

A laughed threatened its way up my throat, resulting in a strangled snort. "Stop. I don't feel like a laughing."

He laid on his back, shimmying up until his head was in my lap. I had no choice but to look down him. "You sure? Because it kind of looks like you want to."

"Peter, be serious."

"I tried that and you didn't take me seriously." He gazed up at me, blue eyes burning with something that made my pulse race.

All hints of humor was gone as took my hand. His touch light as he placed my palm over his heart. His was beating just as fast as mine.

"This is what you do to me, Faye Moore. Only you."

I slid my hand from under his. Moved my legs from under his head. He let his head fall back, eyes closing as he physically deflated.

Those eyes sprang back open when I went to straddle him. He sat up on his elbows, chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked up at me. "What..."

"That song was about you," I said, cutting off his though.

He sat up fully, repositioning me to his lap. "It was?"

"I started writing it after Daniel's party," I confessed, tracing the letters of Pink Floyd on his chest. "The reason I took so long to answer you wasn't because I wanted to say no. I was weighing the risks of saying yes."

My hand moved from his chest to his neck, my fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck.

"I get...scared when good things happen to me. Like, at any moment someone is going to realize I don't deserve it and snatch it back."

He held on to my hips as met my gaze. "You deserve only good things."

Cherry said the same thing just the other night.

"Maybe I should start believing that."

I kissed him. His lips just as soft as I imagined. With zero hesitation, he kissed me back. Slowly. Lightly.

His arms circled my waist, pulling me flush against him as his mouth moved to my chin, my jaw, my neck. He smiled against my skin at the small moan I let out.

He had the biggest grin on his face when he pulled away, rest his forehead against mine. I'm sure I had a matching smile.

"Sing it for me." He said, voice hoarse and slightly out of breath.

I immediately knew what he meant. "The lyrics aren't right."

His blue-gray eyes met mine. "I want to hear it anyway."

So, I sang him the unfinished song and kissed him some more. The two of us happy among the fake clouds and glass butterflies.

********

As a lover of reading/writing romance, I always get caught up on chapters where the characters actually get together  ~romantically~

It took me three days to get this chapter just right and I hope I did it justice!!

Thanks to all my lovely readers for showing up for every update 🥰🥰🥰