Authors: Magan Vernon
It took me literally only forty-five minutes to shower, do my hair, makeup, and get dressed. A record if I do say so myself, but Blaine wasn't there. He was never late and I was starting to get a little worried.
At 6:15 Blaine's mom, Vicki, finally showed up.
"Hey Libby." She was breathing heavy as she lugged her big scrapbooking case in one hand and handed me a Tupperware container with the other.
"Hey, Mrs. Crabtree." I set the Tupperware container down as she went to the table that was set up in the living room. Aunt Dee made me help her push the couch and love seat to the sides so she could have a big enough table for everyone to work at.
"Yes dear?" She started pulling things out of her bag and putting them onto the table.
"Um, is Blaine supposed to be picking me up, or did he have to go run an errand or something?" I twirled a stray strand of hair nervously and rapidly.
I never knew what to wear, or to do with my hair around Blaine. I could dress up and he would surprise me by wearing jeans and a t-shirt and take me to the bowling alley. Or I would throw on whatever was handy and he would plan on taking me to dinner in New Orleans. It was never a winning situation with me.
So I tried to stick with a middle ground: white capris, a pink cami, and a purple short sleeve shrug. I decided to go against the heels, since they seemed to get me in trouble, and stuck with some purple flats and just let my hair fall loosely around my shoulders. It wasn't like the humidity would let me do anything more with it anyways. If the Kappa girls could see me now, they would never believe I would go this long without a straightener.
"Oh." Mrs. Crabtree looked me over. "Well he should have been here by now. That boy has been busy all day."
"Really now?" I leaned in with a smile crossing my lips.
"Oh honey, I've never seen him as crazy as he's been today, wanting to get us all out of the house." She rustled through her scrapbooking supplies.
"Hmmm….do you know what he's planning?" I laid my hands on the fold out chair that her stuff was sitting on.
"She won't be telling you anything, if she knows what's good for her." Blaine put his arms around me, chiming in. I didn't even hear him come in.
"Why Blaine, I wasn't going to tell her nothing!" His mom waved her hand in the air before letting it fall flat.
"Sure you weren't, Ma. I know you too well." He looked down at me. "You ready?"
I wasn't too sure what to expect and what he would be dressed in. Since he was in his usual shorts and a t-shirt, I figured it wasn't going to be anything too fancy.
I turned toward him. "Well look who finally showed up?" I released his arms from around me and put my hands on my hips.
"Libby." He tilted his head back and his eyes met mine. "When you get to my house I can explain everything."
"Fine." I let out a deep breath and then turned back to the ladies. "Bye everyone, see you later."
They didn't even seem to notice we were leaving. They were too busy setting up their food and supplies.
"So what did you spend all day doing?" I asked as Blaine got into the driver's seat.
"Well, that's the complicated thing." Blaine said as he started up the car. "You know how I make fun of you for not being able to cook? Well it turns out I'm even worse!"
I laughed. "Do tell."
He started out of Aunt Dee's driveway and down the road. "I was trying to make homemade pralines, you know southern candy?"
He glanced at me and I nodded to show that I was paying attention.
"Well I guess when it's humid, that doesn't really work too well. I ended up just causing a small fire in the kitchen."
"You caught your kitchen on fire?" I covered my mouth to try and hide my laughter.
"Well not a big fire." His cheeks flushed.
"I'm sorry." I put my hand on his knee and grabbed his hand, intertwining our fingers.
It always amazed me how perfect our hands fit into each other's. I always felt like my hands were abnormally long and looked like that of an alien. But his thick, tanned hands, always rough from working outside and not using lotion, like I begged, they almost made my hands look tiny.
We pulled up to his house just as a slow country song finished on the radio. It was funny how I never really paid attention to country. I actually always held something against it when I was back home. But after moving to Louisiana and meeting Blaine, country music had a whole new meaning. I could find a song, by the same artist mind you, to be able to listen to when I was depressed, overjoyed, or just in the mood to dance. I would never admit it to anyone here, but I was actually enjoying the slow beat of the country music.
Blaine came around the other side of the car and opened my door as he always did. But instead of letting me get out on my own he scooped me up out of the car and took me in his arms, carrying me like a fireman would.
"Blaine Crabtree, what do you think you are doing?"
He grinned and closed the door to his truck with his back before walking toward the house.
"What? Haven't you ever had a guy sweep you off your feet before?"
"Would that require a broom or something?" I giggled.
"Nope." He stepped up the porch steps and let me down as soon as we got in the foyer. "But I think I made a pretty good effort without it."
"I think I was thoroughly swept." I tipped up a bit on my toes and pressed my lips to his.
He returned the favor pressing against me and slowly wrapped his arms tight around my waist. I moved my arms around his neck when he stopped.
"What?" I pouted out my bottom lip.
He grinned and moved my arms from around his neck. "Just hold on one second, I have something for you." He raised one finger and then darted out down the hallway.
I shook my head and kneeled down, digging into my purse.
"Do you ever leave that purse alone?" He quipped when he came back into the room with his hands behind his back.
"Blaine." I stood up, holding an envelope behind my back. "This is not just a purse, it's Prada."
He rolled his eyes. "Anyway."
He removed his hands from behind his back and in his hands was a small box about the size of a dictionary, crudely wrapped in the day's newspaper.
"Gee." I grimaced taking the box.
"Well, open it!" He motioned his hands up.
I slowly ripped the newspaper off, which was almost too slow for Blaine. His eyebrows were completely raised as his eyes followed my hands.
"Um, cigars?" I held up the box. It was a white box with some Spanish writing on it. My dad used to get imported cigars from a client, so I recognized the boxes.
"Libby, would I really buy you cigars?"
I raised an eyebrow.
He let out a big sigh. "No, I wouldn't."
He made an opening motion with his hands. "It's what's inside of the box."
I stopped holding the box up, and sat it up, slowly opening it. Inside was an old, completely full, pack of Dijarum Blacks, or cloves. The ones that Blaine smoked and I hated. I wrinkled my nose.
"Um, you know I don't like cloves."
"Exactly!" He clasped his hands together. "Which is why I'm giving you my last pack."
"Um?" I held the pack up raising an eyebrow.
"Baby, I know you're blonde."
He ran a hand through his hair.
"It means that I haven't smoked in a week." He came in closer and put his arms around my waist. "And it means since you don't like them, I'm quitting."
"Really?" My look of confusing turned into actual joy.
There were a lot of things I hated that Beau did. Constant drinking with his fraternity buddies, smoking pot, calling girls 'bitches', and there were a lot more. But any time I asked him to stop any of these things, he just laughed at me and said I was cute. It was the first time a guy actually listened to what I had to say and heeded my advice. It was actually the first time anyone had really quit doing something when I asked them. It actually meant a lot more than I think Blaine even realized. Suddenly I felt like I was the one with the Sharpie this time.
He leaned in closing his eyes to kiss me again, but I turned my head. "Wait."
"What now?" He groaned.
"No, nothing bad." I pulled out the envelope that I had behind me and held it between us.
"What's this?" He took the envelope from my hand and stepped back a bit.
"Well, you have to open it!" I mocked.
He grinned and shook his head, ripping open the envelope as he did.
"A plane ticket?"
I stepped in closer. "I want you to know that just because I am going to Kristi's wedding doesn't mean I am leaving Louisiana, or you."
I tugged on his belt loop pulling him closer. "Kristi's wedding is next month, and I know I asked you to go with me, but I want you to know that I really do want you to go with me."
He stopped looking at the ticket and met my gaze.
"I'm not ashamed of you or anything about Elsbury. I want to show you off as my amazingly sexy Louisiana man."
He smiled and leaned in pressing his lips to mine again. He held me there for a while, his tongue dancing behind my lips, until we were interrupted, as usual, by his phone vibrating his pants pocket.
He groaned. "Hold that thought baby."
He picked up the phone and walked into the living room, putting the plane ticket on an end table as he went.
I really wanted to snoop around to see what he had planned. I could still smell burnt sugar and pecans wafting in from the kitchen. The dogs were out on the porch snoring away, and everything else just seemed perfectly normal. I had no idea what else he could have planned.
He stepped back in the room sliding his phone back in his pocket. "Sorry, the guys were hoping we'd meet them out at the pool hall."
"Oh." I looked down, thinking that a romantic evening was definitely not happening.
"But." He came closer and lifted my chin up, planting a kiss on my forehead. "I told them I was busy, about to kick your ass at Duck Hunt." He grinned letting go of me and starting up the stairs.
"Wait, you have the original Nintendo?" I had to run to follow him up the stairs.
"Well yeah, it's the only way to go!" He called as I was almost a full flight behind him. "It's up in my room. Come on, I don't have all night!"
I practically flew up the stairs to see him standing in the doorway of his room. But it wasn't a TV set up with a Nintendo. Almost the exact opposite. The room was entirely lit by dozens of candles (the LED ones, he didn't want to start another fire). He had changed his sheets and bedspread so it was no longer a big flannel mess, but a black feather down comforter and six pillows sitting at the head of the bed. All that was missing was wine and music, I thought. It was cheesy and romantic and nerve racking all at the same time.
I covered my mouth, trying to stifle a giggle.
"What?" He put his arms out. "Too much?"
"It is a little cheesy." I giggled, removing my hand from my mouth.
"Dangit." He shook his head walking back up toward me. "I just wanted to do something…to make it you know…special and what not."
I bit my lip looking down at the floor. "Are you sure?"
"Libby." He lifted my chin up so my eyes met his. "I'm not going to do anything you don't want to do."
He took my hand and led me further into the room.
"When I wouldn't sleep with you at Jackson's, it wasn't because I didn't want to. Trust me, I did." He grinned blowing the air out of his nose.
"I just wasn't going to have it be some meaningless thing, just throwing you down on someone else's waterbed at a party. You are definitely too good for that, and I wanted to make sure that is not how you remembered the first time we did it."
I had wished that Beau would have said something like that. It was no secret that I lost my virginity to Beau, a week after I had met him, and even before the Sharpie incident. I was very drunk and practically passed out on his bed. He didn't care that his sheets hadn't been washed since spring break, or that the whole thing was only about two minutes long. But somehow I knew it wouldn't be like that with Blaine.
He stepped in even closer and slowly pulled his shirt off throwing it to the side. I was definitely not disappointed as I ran my fingers across the tattoo below his left shoulder blade and above his chest.
"Joie De Vivre?" I questioned, putting another arm around his torso.
"Zhwah duh viv-re" He said in a French accent. "It means the joy of living."
I looked up at him. "Then let's enjoy." I leaned in closer and kissed him hard on the mouth.
He pulled me closer, pressing his body against mine while his tongue made his way between my lips. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck while he ran his hands through my hair and let them trail down my shoulders and lower back. I actually cursed under my breath that I didn't wear the black lingerie, and he laughed at that saying there would be another time for that.
It didn't start out as the most romantic thing ever, but I don't think it's ever like the movies. I was very nervous and kept shaking as he slowly pulled off my shrug and cami. For a moment he just stared, tracing his fingers underneath my bra line.
"You know baby, we don't have to do anything you don't want to do." He leaned in and placed featherlike kisses along my collarbone before looking back up at me. "We can still play Duck Hunt…"
I tugged on his belt loops pulling him closer. I could already feel him beneath his pants. He removed my bra slowly as he brushed up against my skin. It was like he was trying to remember every curve.
Not everything can be perfect though, when you try and walk and remove pants, there is a lot of stumbling involved. Finally we reached the bed while Blaine practically fell on top of me as he kicked out of his pants. He reached down and slid off my capris and panties, kissing all the way down my legs. Slowly he started to peel off his boxers when I reached a hand up and pressed it against the top of his underwear line.
"Wait," I whispered.
"Do you really want to stop right now?" He looked down at me with pleading eyes. He had already pitched a tent and was practically falling out. And with his size it looked like that was not an easy task to keep in.