EroticReverie

Savannah

"Savannah honey, can you get that? I got my hands in the dough!" my aunt calls to me from her kitchen as the door bell rings a second time. I push up off the bed, tossing my phone onto the covers as I pad barefoot down the small hallway and towards the front door.

When I open the door, I'm met with the same mischievious smile, and deep brown eyes that looked at me from across the street. Beau brooks stands six foot three in front of me, and he's wearing the same worn out white t shirt, jeans and boots that he was three hours ago when I encountered him while talking to that sweet lady, and not so sweet old man outside the shops. I hadn't even gone into the book store like I wanted to. Too afraid to be assualted by other peoples memories of my mother at my age. 

"you." I say, my brows drawing together as I look at Beau. He'd called me Hollywood, just like Harold, he'd made me feel so out of place, like I was in the wrong place, that I didnt belong in this city. Well they were right, I didnt belong here. 

"Shit Hollywood, those are some eyes." he says looking directly into my eyes, his brows rising. 

"Shit Garth Brooks, thanks." I say, using the only country reference I can think of. He smiles even wider as he laughs. His head going back, those bright white teeth cleaming bright against his tanned skin, those dimples growing deeper. Fuck, they didn't make them like him in New York. He looked...like a man. A real one. But he didn't seem much older than me, just looked it I guess. 

"I deserve that." he says. 

"Mm." I just make an unimpressed hum and then cross my arms. 

"Can I help you Willie Nelson?" I throw another at him and he barks a deeper laugh.

"Shit, alright Hollywood, it's gonna be like that?" He asks, with a playful smirk. 

This guy was trouble. Not trouble in the way that the rich guys with fat wallets and designer clothes were back home. Not trouble like the guys who were spoiled rotten like me. No , this guy was something else entirely. 

"Is there a reason you're here?" I ask again, keeping my tone sharp and short. 

"Looks like I'm gonna have to teach you about southern hospitality." He jokes, that smirk planted and not moving at all from his face. 

"Looks like I'm going to have to teach you New York Rage. Which is where I'm from by the way." I bite out. "not Hollywood." 

The side of his mouth lifts. "They really all rude up there like they say?" he asks. 

"Not rude. Just have thick skin and a low tolerance for bullshit." I say. 

"Cussin? Ladies don't talk like that down here." he says. 

"Never said I was lady." I say, narrowing my eyes up at him. A few inches shorter to him than I was earlier in my stilettos. 

I watch him glance down over me, and back up. 

"You look like a lady." he says and his brown eyes land on my blue ones. 

"We'll i'm not." I say. Cause i'm temporarily not working with a fully functioning brain. 

"Wanna go out with me tonight?" he asks. 

"What?" I huff a surprised laugh. 

"I said, do you wanna go-"

"No, I heard you...but what about this interaction made you bold enough to ask me on a date?" I ask as I blink and recross my arms, jutting out my hip. 

"Nothin did...in fact, the way you're actin tells me I should run off this porch like a puppy with my tail between my legs." he says. I huff a laugh. 

"But...I aint a puppy." he says, stepping forward, making me step back into the house as he leifts his arm, bracing his forearm on the doorway. 

"I'm a man, and I'm askin you out Hollywood." he says. 

"You dont even know me." I argue.

He laughs, those annoying dimples taunting me. 

"Aint that what dates are for? Getting to know someone?" he asks. 

"What makes you think I want to know you?" I ask. 

He just smiles. "Don't you?" 

"Not particulalry." I lie. 

"This is gonna be fun." he says with a smile, his eyes still on mine. 

"What is?" I huff. 

"You...chasing you around...charming you." he smiles. 

"You think you're charming?" I ask, cocking my brow.

"Sure do." he says confidently. "I know I am." he says, his eyes still, fucking still on mine. 

"Easy there cowboy, you're head is getting so big it might explode." I say and he smiles. 

"So what time should I pick you up?" he asks. 

"Never." I say quickly. Squinting my eyes at him.

"Seven it is." he says. 

"No I said-" I start as he turns away.

"See you at seven on the dot Hollywood!" he calls over his shoulder with a wave.

"No you wont!" I yell at his retreating back.

"Yeah I will!" he argues and my nostrils flare, and he pulls open the door to his truck, fucking winks and then gets into his truck.