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In the dimly lit bar, Heather’s heart pounded in her chest as Vanessa stood up, her eyes locking with Heather’s. A fleeting wave of panic washed over her, the fear of having pushed things too far and sending Vanessa running.
But then, to Heather’s surprise, Vanessa stopped beside her chair, her fingertips light on her forearm. “What are you having?” she asked, her voice doing something to Heather.
“Malbec, please.”
“Okay, don’t go anywhere,” Vanessa said, her hand resting on her shoulder for a second before heading to the bar.
As Vanessa waited at the bar for their drinks, Heather couldn’t tear her eyes away from Vanessa. She was captivated by her every move, every nuance of her expression. Vanessa seemed to exude an aura of confidence and self-assurance that Heather found intoxicating.
She still couldn’t believe that any of this was real. Yes, they lived a few hours apart, and Heather had already had so many failed attempts at starting something serious with someone who was significantly older than her to have any real expectations.
But who needed expectations?
Heather was starting to wonder if she was wasting her time trying to settle down with someone.
She’d had rules in place before about one-night stands, because they never ended well. She’d sworn them off for the last year, because she’d always been left wanting more, but right now, that was all Heather could think about.
What would it be like with Vanessa? What would her lips feel like against her own? How would she taste? Who would be the aggressor?
Screw her rules. Meeting Vanessa here tonight was so random. There was no way that Heather could turn Vanessa down if she asked her back to her hotel room later.
4
Vanessa carried their two glasses of wine back to the table. Before she could over think it, she set them down, and casually moved her chair so that it was alongside Heather, leaving Vanessa’s back to the window now.
“Thanks,” Heather said, her striking blue eyes suddenly even more captivating now that Vanessa could appreciate every subtle shade and fleck of color.
“Cheers,” Vanessa said, clinking their glasses together before taking a sip of wine, savoring the hints of black cherry, tobacco, and vanilla mingling on her tongue.
“Cheers,” Heather echoed. She turned her head slightly, their faces now inches apart.
Vanessa’s eyes dropped to Heather’s lips for a brief moment before meeting her heated gaze again. Vanessa crossed one leg over the other, her hand resting on her own thigh before she found the courage to brush the back of her hand along Heather’s underneath the table.
Vanessa couldn’t miss Heather’s sharp intake of breath. It was a subtle, innocent touch, but it had an undeniable effect on Heather. Vanessa noticed the slight flush on her cheeks, the way her bright blue eyes seemed to smolder as they held Vanessa’s gaze.
So she let her hand linger, tracing feather-light patterns on the back of Heather’s hand with the back of her own underneath the seclusion of the table.
“How do you want tonight to end?” Vanessa asked.
Heather’s lips slid into an easy smile. “You didn’t answer me when I asked you that question.”
“I thought it was obvious how I wanted tonight to go,” Vanessa said, her own lips tugging into a smile.
“I could say the same. That it should be beyond obvious what I want.” Heather’s voice was so smooth that Vanessa couldn’t stop herself from imagining that voice in her ear later, throaty and breathless, Vanessa’s name on her lips.
“You could?”
“Hmm. I could. But I won’t.”
Vanessa waited for Heather to continue, her fingers slowing as her heart beat faster.
“Instead,” Heather started, reaching for her glass, “I’ll say that I’m struggling to believe this is real. That we both ended up here, at the same time, on the same night. And that as much as I’ve gotten away from one-night stands as I’ve gotten older, I think I would spend the rest of my life regretting not suggesting that we see where tonight takes us.”
Vanessa watched Heather take a drink, her long, slender fingers gracefully holding her glass. The mention of Heather’s age had Vanessa withdrawing her hand from underneath the table, picking up her glass and taking a sip.
“I know that probably sounds dramatic,” Heather said, turning to meet Vanessa’s eyes, “But I really would. I don’t think I’ve ever been so drawn to someone.”
“I know what you mean,” Vanessa said with a smile before she took another drink, a friendly game of tug-o-war going on in her head.
