“Nice, nice! Where are you taking her?”
“She’s coming to my place tonight. I’ll cook something.”
“Well, that’s romantic. You can cook, right?” Aiden rubs his short black hair with a sheepish look on his face. “Giving her food poisoning will probably set you back a few steps…”
“Oh, I can cook.” I laugh, sitting on the edge of his metal desk. “I’ve cooked for her a couple of times, just not in this capacity.” Biting the inside of my lip, I try to stifle the ever-growing excitement in my chest.
“What isthis?” A knowing smirk slides across his face as he leans back in his office chair. “Are yougiddy?”
“Is that what it’s called? My body is buzzing, and I’m springy. Bruh, this is all foreign to me…”
“It’s fun in the beginning. Enjoy it, man.”
When I slide my glasses on and stare into the black screen at my workstation, I notice a goofy-ass smile on my face, and I’m pretty sure it’s been there since I left Fit4U.
Shit.Liquid flows across my glass top range. Boiling water roils over the pot and onto the espresso hardwood, hissing like an angry cobra. I rush for a towel, and pain shoots across my side when my hip catches on the countertop. It’s like I’m like a bumbling idiot who’s never stepped foot inside his own kitchen. I can’t think as I race around the room, turning off heating elements and wiping up spills. The pressure to get this date perfect was motivating at first, but the more I mess up the cooking process, the more flustered I become.
At this point, the only thing working out is the vase full of sunflowers sitting on my dining table. Not the giant kind, but the small ones that line the sand at the beach. It’s not quite blooming season, but with LA’s warmth, I managed to find a few straggling heads. They’re Ashlie’s favorite, so it just seemed like a good way to start off on the right foot. So much rides on this date tonight; I’m freaking the fuck out. The doorbell rings, and I let out an audible groan, tossing the sopping towel in the sink on my way to the door.
Ashlie’s hair is up, with a few curly tendrils framing her face. Her basic white tee and jeans hug all the places my hands are aching to touch. My fingers twitch on the knob while I painstakingly refrain from pulling her into a kiss. She doesn’t kiss on the first date. Even though we’ve done so much more, I want to respect that. “Hey. You’re early.”
“Yeah… Is that okay?” Her fingers trail over my arm as she passes. Her perfume, the soft caress on my skin—it all sends a mind-glitching shudder through me. Every bit of my panic from before melts away, and I’m only aware of her and the way she tucks a stray curl behind her ear.
“Mm-hmm.” I clear my throat.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She scans her outfit with a frown, then flicks her eyes back to me with a tilt of her head. “Are you checking me out?”
“You just…look good. You look good.”Smooth, Hunter. Let’s just carry her straight to the bedroom. Way to make a good first impression.
“Uh, thanks…but you might want to gocheck outwhatever’s in the oven instead…”
“Shit!” I race to the kitchen. Black smoke billows up to the ceiling when I pull the charred breadsticks from the oven. I flip on the range hood and barely get the window open before a shrill beeping fills my apartment. When I turn around, Ashlie’s standing on the countertop, in her socks, using the broom to push the button on the smoke alarm. Once the blaring stops, it feels like the entire world goes silent, somehow aware of my monumental fuck-up.
She climbs down and walks toward me, trying to hide her giggles behind her hand. I lean over the sink and cover my face, laughing at how bad everything is going so far. This and disaster are one and the same.
“Ugh, I’m crashing and burning here…” I mumble behind my fingers.
“Naw, the only thing burning is that bread over there.” She puts a hand on my arm as she snickers at her joke, and when I look at her, we both fall out laughing again.
“Whew!” I whistle. “This is so bad…”
“No. It’s cute.”
“Cute? That doesn’t sound any better… How is this fiasco cute?”
She lays a gentle kiss on my lips. Her fingers slide up my jawline, and she kisses me again, slow and deep. “It’s cute because you’re trying,” she whispers, eyes locking to mine before dipping in for a third time.
I tug her closer, drawing on her lips a while longer. When she pauses for air, I nuzzle her nose with mine. “I thought you didn’t kiss on the first date…”
She shrugs. “It seemed like you could use some encouragement.”
“I think I need a little more.” I steal a kiss of my own, her smile against my lips lighting my heart on fire. The risk, the stress—everything—was worth it.
Indian takeout and a movie cuddling session on my sofa save the night. Cradled in my arms, her back against my chest—I’m in complete bliss. Teasing, kissing, the ease of it makes my inner cynic question everything I know about relationships. She tickles my palm with her fingernails, and the small tingles rifling through me might be one of the best sensations I’ve ever felt. Being allowed to stare and flirt the way I’ve always wanted is like being set free from a high-security prison. I don’t have to hide anymore.
“You smell so damn good,” I murmur, planting kisses in the valley where her shoulder meets her neck. Her giggles are all the encouragement I need to continue.
Taking a deep breath, she turns to face me. “We can’t tell Chase and Kayla about this right now. They don’t need our…whatever this is…adding to their wedding stress.”
