Wondering Why

I love when things happen like this, discussing a song with someone and a random one pops up that’s so perfect that it painted the entire scene in my head.

We’d been at the bar for barely an hour, and yet it felt like we’d spent a lifetime there. The clinking of glasses, the low hum of conversations, the smell of beer and fried food—it was all background noise. All I could focus on was her. The way she leaned into the table, her hair falling slightly in front of her eyes as she laughed at something I said. Her laugh was always so effortless, like she didn’t care who was watching or how loud it echoed in the room. I loved that about her.

She wore that simple black dress again, the one she always seemed to throw on without a second thought, but it hugged her in a way that made it impossible not to notice. It was sleeveless, her tattoos of words and flowers visible, like pieces of a story she hadn’t fully told me yet. Her black boots were there too, the ones she wore everywhere, scuffed at the toes from all the places she’d walked and all the adventures she never talked about. I wondered where they’d take her next.

But it was the paint—barely there, just a speck—on her collarbone that kept me anchored. A reminder of the way she threw herself into everything, how she always ended up with a little more color than when she started. I didn’t tell her about it. I liked keeping that piece of her to myself.

“Reece, you’re thinking too much,” she said, and I hadn’t even realized I’d drifted. She smiled at me, a wicked, knowing smile, like she could read every thought I was trying to hide. She was right. I was thinking too much. About her. About us. About how we’d spent months like this—close, but never close enough. Hidden in the quiet spaces between moments, behind closed doors where the world couldn’t find us. I didn’t know when it happened, but I’d started falling for her, slow and steady, all she did was spread warmth around me.

The band started up, something soft and slow, the kind of music that wraps around you like a memory. She stood up suddenly, holding out her hand. “Come on. Dance with me.”

I hesitated, not because I didn’t want to, but because dancing with her felt like crossing a line I wasn’t sure I could come back from. But then again, hadn’t we already crossed so many lines?

Her hand was still there, waiting, so I took it. As we made our way to the small space in front of the band, the lyrics of the song drifted through the air, sinking into me like they were meant for this moment.

"She keeps on loving me, loves me the way I am, she's not just along for the ride, she's my biggest fan..."

We moved together, her body close to mine, and I couldn’t help but pull her closer. Her tattoos brushed against my skin, her scent, that mix of something sweet and something untamed, filled my senses. I didn’t care about anything else—just her, here, now.

"Lord, it’s a little old piece of heaven when we lay down at night. She keeps on loving me, and I keep on wondering why..."

I couldn’t stop thinking about it—how she always accepted me, just as I was. No expectations, no demands. And yet, there I was, wanting more. Needing more. More of her jokes, more of her late-night texts, more of those moments where she looked at me like I was the only person in the world.

I looked down at her, and she looked back at me with those eyes—those eyes that saw right through me. Her lips parted slightly, like she was about to say something, but she didn’t. Instead, she just closed the gap between us, her lips pressing softly against mine.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t wild. It was everything I hadn’t known I’d been waiting for.

As the kiss deepened, the world outside that bar disappeared. All that was left was her, the warmth of her skin, the taste of her kiss, and the quiet certainty that I was falling for her, deeper than I’d ever imagined.

The song played on, but I couldn’t hear the words anymore. All I could think was, this is it. This is the moment that changes everything.

And I wasn’t sure I wanted it to stop.