Intertwined

Nineteen

Cassidy

I watched Houston stroll up to me, with one hand in his jeans pockets and the other running through his curly brown hair casually. After hours of driving across another state, it hadn't occurred to me how tired and sleepy I was; all I felt was sparks fly between our fingers, and an urge to know more about him.

Houston fell down on the couch and grabbed my arm with him, immediately reaching for the closeness of my touch. He held his laugh in as his smile reached his cheeks, and said, "Mitchell, you're here. You're finally here."

"Are you drunk?" I exclaimed, leaning into him. "Did your brother give you too many of those cocktails?"

"No, I am not drunk," Houston answered, glancing at an object in the window and then back at me. "Besides if I was drunk, would I suggest we get out of here?"

I grinned and said, "I wouldn't put it past you."

In that moment, Houston placed one arm under my knees and carried me to the front door, as lingering eyes of his family members watched us walk outside. He set my feet on the ground as he fumbled in his pocket for the keys to Dallas's car, and I slid onto the bench seat. Everything about him tonight was charming - how he carried me to the car and his hand flexing over the steering wheel.

How Houston's strong hands always found their way to me, whether it was my hand, knee, or face.

"You're being a gentleman," I began, clasping my hand on his. "What's your motive?"

"My motive?" Houston questioned as he braked at a red light, his blue eyes focused on me. "I want to show you around my hometown, and make better memories than I had before."

I was taken aback by those words as he leaned into me, and I watched his lips hover over mine with his breath hot on my skin. The red glow from the stoplight turned green and cars honked from behind us, as Houston slammed on the gas and I covered my face with my hands.

This whole night felt like it was high school all over again - and what I always dreamed it to be. With the wind in my hair and Houston weaving through town streets, his hometown slowly became a speck in the night as lights glowed against the night sky.

Houston turned into a parking lot and stopped short of a football field, then took the key out of the ignition and led me over to the bright lights and bleachers. We finally found a seat at the top of the bleachers and I had to ask Houston one question that racked my brain, "Why are you doing all of this?"

He leaned back resting his head against the announcer's box, while his dark blue eyes tracked my every movement and his smile reached the creases in his eyes. He questioned, holding a hand to his chest, "Is it not obvious why?"

I stayed silent, watching his eyes flick back and forth between me, and I always wondered what he was thinking.

"Okay, I guess I haven't been that obvious," he replied to himself, focusing his attention on the empty football field and the small specs of lights overlooking the Oklahoma prairie. "I definitely haven't been finding a way to make every moment I spend with you worth the world. I drive you to Lubbock, invite you to Oklahoma, and take you to my old high school."

I gasped and exclaimed, "Hey, I had to convince you to let me accompany you. Without my insistence, we wouldn't even be sitting here."

"You mean unwavering stubbornness?" Houston cocked an eyebrow at me, with his blue eyes glistening and his smile causing butterflies to form in my stomach.