What in the hell am I going to wear? I’m standing in my closet half naked and I have about a million things to do before Nate gets here. My mind has been a jumbled mess all day. But the truth is, the second his lips touch mine, everything inside of me calms. As much as I want to protect myself from heartache, I trust him. I don’t know why, but being with him washes away every single fear.
My phone rings and I decide on a black dress that’s been staring at me, throwing it on as I dash across my house. It’s him…
I answer and the deep tone of his voice makes me feel very weak and very vulnerable, and very, very horny.
“What’s your favorite food?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Really?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, since you prefer wine. Red or white?”
“Both,” I respond, not able to make a decision in this moment to save my life.
He chuckles at my comment. “I knew I should’ve made these decisions myself. I’ll see you soon, El.”
The other end is silent before I know that he’s gone. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and mentally compile my to-do list. I run around my house like a mad woman for the next hour because he’ll be here soon. I feel like I’m getting nothing accomplished.
Then in an instant…it happens. I turn when there is a knock on my door. I exhale deeply, walking to it, running my fingers through my hair as I do. My stomach is a mess. I’m so nervous to have him here that I don’t quite know what to do.
“Another dress,” he says, scanning me up and down with his hungry eyes.
I quirk a smile up at him. “You like?”
“You have no idea. I fucking love it.”
“Good. Come in.”
He steps in and leans down, kissing me chastely on the lips, a swift soft movement of affection. Jesus, he smells good, wildly good. His hands are full, a brown bag in one while the other holds what must be our dinner.
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” I tell him, walking us to the kitchen where he sets everything on the countertop. He looks so sexy in a pair of jeans and a white button down shirt. I almost begin to drool looking at him. He’s got me so turned on that…
“You all right?”
“Yeah, why?” I ask confused.
“I asked you which wine you wanted,” he says holding both the red and the white bottles in his hand.
“You choose.”
“What’s up with you all of a sudden not being able to make a decision?”
I glare at him, a tiny bit offended by his words. “I can make a decision just fine.”
“Then which one is it?” he asks kissing my neck. “Red or white.”
I shiver from my head to my toes, before blurting out, “Red.”
“Good, El, I like that side of you. The assertive one that knows what she wants.”
“Don’t worry, it’s still here,” I reassure him, knowing that I have to pull my head out of my ass and find my confidence again. I have to. For some God unknown reason, I’ve let him cloud my thoughts, and it’s taken away from the strong, confident, decisive woman that I am.
“Good. Do you have a wine opener?” he asks.
I hand him one before retrieving two glasses, all the while watching his muscles as he attacks the bottle. With twist after twist after twist, his biceps are ridiculous, and when he’s using them, well…kill me now, because I might faint from the sight.
He catches my eyes and just laughs at me. “You know there’s more to me than my muscles,” he teases.
“Oh, I know, trust me, I know.”
“I haven’t always been this big,” he says.
“Well, I’d assume you weren’t born this way,” I joke.
I shake my head. “When I was held hostage, I weighed close to nothing. I was skin and bones.”
“You mentioned that. I didn’t think that your captors fed you four course meals and let you work out all the time.”
He becomes very serious and I fear that I’ve said something wrong. We were just joking and I…goddamn my big mouth. “Are you okay?” I ask him.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. I just can’t go back there again. It’s not a happy place, or anywhere that I like to visit.”
“I won’t bring it up again.”
“If you have questions, I always want you to be able to ask, please know that.”
“Not if it’s going to hurt you.”
“Sometimes I just need a minute to get my head around it, that’s all.”
I nod my head and like that although this is hard for him, I can still ask him questions if I need to. It shows that he’s thinking about me too, which was something I felt Alex never did.
He hands me a wine glass, filled to the rim, and says, “To us.”
I like that. “To us,” I repeat and we both swallow a bountiful drink of this delicious wine.