Best Summer of Our LivesbyGoodyGoodyTwoShoes©
"Hey you." Her voice came through sounding quite perky. "Whatcha up to?"
Fisher sat down on his bed and fidgeted with his hands as he talked. "Nothing at all."
His roommate, Garrett, looked over at him with a curious look on his face.
"Nothing?" Annabelle giggled. "So, you were just sitting there staring at the wall before I called?"
"Um," he muttered, and then stumbled over his words, "no, not really, I guess, I mean yeah sort of, just hanging out in my room."
"I see, I see. Hmm, well, have you eaten dinner yet?"
Fisher's heart leapt into his throat and caught up his speech. He cleared his throat before he could talk properly. "No, I haven't, why?"
She laughed for a moment, and then said, "Think about it, why would I ask if you've had dinner?"
He hid his eyes in his hand. "I don't know. Are you asking me because you want to eat dinner with me?"
"That would be a correct assumption, yes."
The inflection of her voice told him that she was smiling on the other end, which in turn made him smile.
Annabelle continued, "I like to cook when I have a night off, and cooking for one isn't very fun. Would you like to join me?"
"Yes!" he replied almost too eagerly. He took a breath, and then spoke again, "I mean, yes, that would be great."
She gave him directions to her apartment and told him to meet her as soon as he could get there. When he hung up, he stared at his phone in disbelief for a few moments.
Garrett broke him out his trance when he put down the video game controller and asked, "What's up man?"
Fisher blinked his eyes and turned his head towards his roommate. "I'm sorry, what?"
"What's up? Who was that?"
"Oh um, Annabelle asked me over for dinner."
"Annabelle?" Garrett raised a dark brow. "The girl from your history class, that you haven't been able to stop talking about since you met her?"
"Well, what the fuck are you doing sitting here? Get outta here and go!"
Fisher laughed at himself for a quick moment before rising up from his bed. He went over to his closet and changed into a dark blue polo shirt and khaki slacks. He stopped in the bathroom and quickly checked himself out to make sure he was presentable and comb his short brown hair. After coming back out, he slipped into a pair of sneakers and stuffed the directions into his pocket.
"Is this a date?" Garrett asked with his attention turned back to killing zombies.
"I don't know. She just said that she didn't like cooking dinner for one. I don't think so."
"Could be," Garrett said with a grin. "I don't know many girls who cook dinner for a guy who aren't at least interested in him."
"Don't make me more nervous!"
The guys chuckled together, and then Fisher made his way to the door.
"Have fun and don't come back too early," his roommate teased.
Fisher turned his head back to him. "Yeah yeah. See ya later."
Annabelle moved around her tiny kitchen, singing to herself as she filled a casserole dish with ziti pasta, marinara sauce with sausage, and ricotta cheese. She covered the top with mozzarella, and then sprinkled parmesan cheese over the dish. After putting the dish in the oven, she began cutting lettuce and vegetables for a salad.
As she worked and her Jack Russell Terrier stood guard for any droppings, she thought about her new friend. She knew that they were attracted to each other. That was quite obvious. She liked his shyness and the way he seemed a tad uncomfortable, but anxious when she talked openly about sex. Fisher didn't seem like the type of guy who would go after her just for sex. That thought put a smile on her face, though she knew that eventually she may have to be the one to make the first move. But for now, she liked having him as a friend and feeling him out, instead of jumping straight into the sack.
Annabelle wasn't attracted to bad boys or jerks, but she seemed to give into sex too easily. She was a self-proclaimed slut. In the past, she had racked up a decent number of men she had been with. Some of the men called her only for sex, and she was okay with that because that's what fuck buddies are for. Sometimes, she would go home with men she met at bars, and never talk to them again, even if they did call.
She was ready to be with someone special and have meaningful sex. Not just one or two night stands to have her cravings for cock satisfied. The last man that she waited longer than two dates to have sex with was her high-school boyfriend, to whom she lost her virginity after waiting several months.
When the time was right, she would rock Fisher's world, but for now, she enjoyed having him as a friend and being with a guy who wasn't spending every moment trying to get her into bed.
Annabelle finished chopping the vegetables, and then mixed everything together in a bowl before placing it in the fridge. She quickly made a garlic butter sauce, and then spread it over slices of sourdough bread. The garlic bread was ready to be placed in the oven after the main dish was finished.
Fisher found a spot to parallel-park on the street. He turned off the car, and then looked down at the address again. As he got out of the car and made his way to the brownstone building, he continued to remind himself to be calm, just as he had the whole drive.
Her apartment was on one of the three levels of the building. He opened the outside door, and then went up the steps to the second floor. After one final deep breath, he knocked on her door.
Immediately following the knock, he heard a dog's high pitched bark on the other side. There was some scuffling around before the door opened.
Annabelle's radiant smile greeted him. After closing the door, her arms wrapped around him and engulfed him in a warm hug. His arms went around her waist and he held her body to his, deeply inhaling her scent that he had grown to adore over the past few encounters. Her hair held the scent of apples and her skin smelled like a melon body wash.
She pulled away, still smiling. "Thanks for coming over," she chirped. "Welcome to my humble abode."
"It's a pleasure to be here," he said, returning the smile.
The dog's barks became more constant, coming from the bedroom.
Annabelle hurried over to let her out and gave him a word of warning, "She's gonna bark like crazy for a minute, but just let her smell you and she will calm down."
Fished muttered an, "Okay," as he took in the surroundings.
He took a few more steps past the threshold into her home. To his left was a small, but functional kitchen. Then, there was the door that she had gone to open. All he noticed of the living room, which seemed large for the apartment, were the bookshelves that were overstuffed with paperbacks.
A white creature with a couple of brown spots zipped over to him, barking incessantly. The dog was clearly a bundle of energy, jumping at his feet. Fisher smiled and squatted down to offer the dog his hand to smell. When he tried to pet her smooth coat, she backed away, unsure of him and barked a little more.
Annabelle put her hand on her hip and watched the interaction. "I'm sorry. I told you that she was crazy."
A couple of moments later, he was able to give the dog a proper petting. She warmed up to him immediately once he had found her favorite spot on her back. Annabelle giggled, still watching.
He looked up at her as he continued to scratch the dog. "What's her name?"
"Clover." She smiled. "I think she likes you."
"I hope she does." Fisher rose up and the dog scurried away to chew on a bone. "It smells delicious in here. What's for dinner?"
Annabelle brushed a few honey colored locks off her face. "I hope you like Italian, cause we're having baked ziti."
He made an approving sound and rubbed his stomach. "I love Italian food."
Just then, the oven timer buzzed. She practically sprinted into the kitchen. Fisher stood at the entrance to the kitchen and watched her as she slipped on polka-dot oven mitts and bend over to pull the dish out of the oven. The width of the kitchen was not large enough for her to stand behind the open oven. His mouth went dry at the sight of her ass staring him in the face through her snug denim shorts. He forced himself to look away before she caught him looking.
Annabelle placed the dish on the stove, and then put the garlic bread in the oven. "Sorry, I'm being a bad host. Would you like something to drink?" she asked as she dropped the oven mitts on the counter. "I have pop, beer, or the standard water."
"A beer would be great, thanks," he replied.
"Coming right up." She grabbed two bottles of Goose Island Honker's Ale the refrigerator, popped them open, and then handed him one.
"Do you need any help?"
"No, thanks." She grinned before turning away. "I've got it under control."
He took a gulp of cold liquid courage, while his eyes roamed over her body again as she moved about the kitchen. Her tight shirt had a v-neck that was as deep as the purple shade of the garment. Her bosom was on display, but hidden just enough to be proper. His imagination filled in what he couldn't see due to the fit of her shirt. He could also make out the faint outline of her lace bra. For a moment, he wondered what color it was before he shook off the thought, reminding himself that he was gentleman, though his hormones begged to differ.
Fisher silently moaned as he watched Annabelle stretch up on her tip toes to get plates out of the cabinet. He adored her calves and the way her bum lifted and came out just a little. He also got a peek of her tanned midriff. He closed his eyes and had another sip of beer, once again not wanting to be seen as the guy who stared at her.
Annabelle had felt his eyes on her and she smiled inwardly. She wasn't trying to be overtly sexual or seduce him, which made his sneaking glances even more welcome to her.
She came back down on her bare feet with the plates and bowls in hand, and then looked over at him. "I hope you're okay with eating on the coffee table. I don't have a dining room table, because well," she shrugged, "I didn't want to waste the space."
"Not a problem at all."
He waited patiently while she filled the bowls with salad, and then made plates of baked ziti for them.
Fisher enjoyed how her long and straight hair caught the light and gave her a soft angelic glow and how her tanned thighs poured out of her shorts. His thoughts raced to touching her legs and petting her hair.
She was about to plop a spoonful of baked ziti onto a plate when she felt his eyes again. Wanting to catch him in the act, she looked over at him and smiled sweetly. His cheeks turned pink immediately and she giggled in response as she went back to plating their dinner.
"You look really cute today, Fisher," she said, turned away from him while opening the oven door. She put an oven mitt back on, and then retrieved the garlic bread.
Another nerve induced lump filled his throat. "I do?" he mumbled. "I just look like me." As soon as he spoke he hated what he had said.
A musical giggle filled the apartment again. She turned towards him after placing the cookie sheet on the stove. "Yes, you do look like you, and you're cute."
He felt like the loose collar of his shirt had shrunk several sizes. He liked her compliments, but he wasn't used to receiving them. "Thank you, you look great today too." His words had come out more confident this time.
Annabelle grinned. "Thank you back." She quickly put garlic toast on both plates, followed by a fork in the salads. "Dinner is served, come get your plate and salad."
Fisher stepped into the kitchen to grab his plate and bowl. He tucked his beer into the crook of his arm, just as she had done with the dressing and beer, and then picked up his meal.
Together, they made their way to the living room. He waited a moment for her to sit down in her preferred place on the sofa, but rather, she sat down in front of it. He followed suit, sitting on the floor on her left. Clover followed too, sitting properly on the other side of her, not begging for food, just watching.
They both drizzled vinaigrette dressing on their salads, and then began eating. The television was directly in front of them, but she left it off. Fisher liked that she did.
After his first bite of baked ziti, Fisher groaned with delight. He complimented her and the dish once he had swallowed, "This is delicious." He stabbed another fork full of food. "Do you always cook this well?"
"I try to. Sure beats macaroni and cheese." She sipped her beer. "I like to try new things, but it's always better to try them when there's someone else to enjoy it with."
While chewing, he also chewed over the thought of what she said. He wondered if there was a double meaning to her words, or if she simply meant cooking. He went with the simple route, not wanting to embarrass himself.
"Well, anytime you want to cook something new, I will be your guinea pig," he stated, and then gulped down some beer.
Annabelle winked at him while her mouth was full. She wiped her lips before she said, "I'd like that a lot. I bet this is better than cafeteria food."
"It's not even in the same stratosphere."
They continued to dine on the delectable meal that she made and shared a light hearted chat. They laughed about the dormitory that he lived in and shared roommate horror stories of years past. Her freshman year, Annabelle had lived with a girl who never took out her trash. It got so bad that the girl even had trash on her bed and slept in it. Fisher was lucky for the most part, though his first roommate was quite the ladies' man. The rule of, "do not enter" when a sock was hanging on the doorknob came into play a bit too often. He told her that he had slept in the common area one night because he forgot to take it off.
When dinner wound down, Annabelle hopped up to collect dishes.
Fisher stood up and picked up his plate. "I wouldn't mind helping you."
She waved her empty hand in the air. "No, no, no." She smiled. "You're my guest. Guests don't do dishes. But, you can pick out a movie if you like."
"I can definitely do that." He handed her his plate with a smile.
Annabelle cleared off the coffee table, and then retreated to the kitchen. Clover followed her as if she was her shadow.
He went over to one of the several bookcases and looked over the numerous movies that she owned. He plucked, "The Blues Brothers, out of the mix.
While he waited for her to finish the dishes, he also looked over another bookshelf and the several books that she owned. Most of which he had never read and some he had never heard of. He wondered how she found time to read with school and work. Also, he wondered what genre that she liked writing the most, remembering that she was studying creative writing.
When he heard the sink turn off, he popped the disc into the DVD player, and then sat down on the sofa. He found the remotes and got the movie set up to play when she returned.
He liked that there weren't a lot of extra pillows on the purple velour sofa, just two in each corner. Also, he liked the funky, vintage, geometric print of the couch and cozy looking chair that sat adjacent to it. There were a lot of things about her that he liked.
In his pocket, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out quickly read a text from his roommate, asking how his date was going. He replied with a simple, "Very well," even though he was still unsure if this was a date. He stuffed his phone back in his pocket.
A few moments later, Annabelle glided in from the kitchen. "I made you a container to take back with you. You have a microwave in your room, right?"
She sat down rather close to him on the couch. A mere inch of space was between them. Fisher felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach from their closeness.
"I do. Thank you."
"Anytime." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Do you mind if we um..." her voice trailed off into a giggle.
He raised a chocolate brow and turned his face to her. "Do I mind what?"
She nibbled her lip, feeling a bit shy. It took another moment before she spoke, "Do you mind if we cuddle a bit while we watch the movie?"
Fisher nodded and ignored his nerves for a change. "I would love that," he said coolly as he lifted his right arm for her.
Her emerald eyes sparkled. They shared a smile reserved for lovers before she nestled into him.
Her head settled on his upper chest, half on his shoulder, and she curled her legs up on the sofa behind her. His arm fell around her shoulders, resting his hand on her arm, touching her bare skin just below the sleeve of her shirt.
He pressed play on the remote, and then set it down on the cushion next to him. Clover wandered back into the living room and jumped up onto the sofa. Annabelle reached behind her, without pulling away from him, to get the blanket off of the back of the couch. She tossed it down near her feet and the dog curled up on top of it. Fisher had looked over and was smiling.
Annabelle's arm returned to him and she lightly rubbed his stomach, feeling his firm abdomen through his shirt. "Are you comfortable?" she asked in a soft tone.
His jaw rested against her head and his lungs were filled with her scent with every breath. "I've never been better," he replied with complete honestly. He felt her smile against him in response.
Throughout the movie, he was more focused on having her in his arms than what was happening on the screen. He laughed with her at the appropriate parts, but his mind was constantly filled with the fact that a beautiful woman was cuddling with him. He listened to her breathing and loved how her breasts were pressed against his side and chest. His free hand moved to her arm over him and he lightly drew his fingers along her forearm. Everything was perfect.
Annabelle felt her heart growing warmer the longer she stayed cuddled against him. She felt like she never wanted to move again. Never before, had she been so comfortable with a guy. This was not something she wanted to rush, she was sure now. She loved how his hands felt on her and imagined them touching her when she was nude.
They watched the movie in silence, except for laughs and chuckles. Both of them were focused on being together more so than the movie.
Fisher ached to kiss her, but he didn't want to scare her. Her warm body being so close to him was more than enough for now. He would kiss her soon. He would make sure of that. He also made a mental note to ask her on a proper date before he left for the night.
Near the end of the movie, when Jake and Elwood Blues are being chased by a countless number of Chicago squad cars, Fisher started uncontrollably laughing.
Annabelle lifted her head from his shoulder and giggled at him, "What's so funny?"
"This is my favorite part." He smiled wide. "Wait for it," he said expectantly.
She settled back in on his shoulder and continued to smile as she returned her eyes back to screen.
"Here it is!" Fisher quoted a line from the movie at the exact time Elwood said it, "Well, this definitely is Lower Wacker Drive." He continued his laughter and she joined in.
When the credits started rolling, they stayed in their embrace, neither of them eager to move. The DVD returned to the menu screen and they still didn't move.
For several beautiful moments, they merely enjoyed being close together. Her hand drifted up to his chest and came back down over and over again. He continued to caress the skin on her arm and run up and down her side with the other hand. Annabelle loved his masculine scent and the slight aroma of his aftershave that he had presumably put on this morning.
Clover was the one that ended their cuddle session. She bounded off of the sofa, ran to the door, and then scratched it.
"I need to take her out," Annabelle sighed. Begrudgingly, she lifted herself out of his arms. "You can stay here if you want to."