Honey & Wine

"What's this from?", he asks as he rubs his finger over the scar on the back of my leg.

"Bar fight in '98," I whisper with a grin. I don't really know why I'm whispering but it's late and I'm a tiny bit drunk.

He pulls me towards him and kisses my neck. I let out a laugh that sounds like it started somewhere in my toes...that's how he describes it. And I know the laugh he's talking about because it's the one you hear when I'm really happy. And I must admit, having him kiss my neck (or anywhere, really) makes me quite happy.

He smoothes my hair out of my face with both hands and kisses me again. I can tell my cheeks are flushed as he says, "You taste like honey and wine." I giggle because it sounds a little cheesy but he's right. The honey was from dessert earlier and the wine was from well, all night.

"Honey and wine? Sounds like a line from a Harlequin romance."

"Shit. You discovered the source of all my best lines," he deadpans. "You know, there are women who would find that description romantic," he laughs.

"True. And there are women who find sappy poetry and red roses romantic...I'm not one of them."

"You mean I memorized all of that e.e. cummings for nothing?"

I grin a little and then grab him and kiss him because there are certain guys who should be grabbed and kissed...and he's one of them.

I was at the gym the next day and replayed it all in my head again. Isn't that the best? When you realized that you've basically Tivo'd an experience in your mind and you just keep going back to your favorite parts? I got to the "honey and wine" part and smiled. Though I'd never admit it to him, I actually did find it kind of sweet.

This is not going to go anywhere for a variety of reasons, none of which I care to go into right now. Instead, I'm going to live in the moment and not worry about anything else. Right now I'm going to have myself some fun. I deserve a little fun. And maybe a little more honey and wine.