Can support himself, has his own place, and is financially stable…Check.
Goal oriented, at least one yearly goal and three lifetime goals…Not that I know.
Isn’t afraid of a smart woman…Based on his snarky remarks, check, rolls eyes.
Roughly my age, but no more than five years older…Check.
Intellectual - GPA higher than 3.0…Not enrolled. No, but reads a lot…of smut
Makes me feel emotionally and physically supported…
Before I let my brain answer that last qualification, I look at my phone for a distraction, but it’s almost dead. I smother a yawn and tap my fingers on the couch. I can’t sit still. I poke my phone screen again, the time reads it’s been less than three minutes. I quickly lock it to conserve the battery for the ride home. Knowing that Dominic is currently naked having a shower and that he cares for my comfort makes my brain feel fuzzy. Any rationality I have screams to find the perfect specimen I’ve carefully crafted in my head, but my loins burn to make a move on the tall, dark and broody guy that cares for me. My vagina is a treacherous little slut that has no will power.My hands mindlessly run over the velvety cushion beneath me, sending shivers up my spine at the thought of his lips on mine. I look down and jump from the couch as if it were lava. I stand, hot and bothered with my arms crossed over my chest. I begin to meander around the apartment some more, the underlying urge to snoop rearing its ugly head.
It’s one thing to look around while he’s here, but another to do it while he’s not aware.
Just as I’m about to stop my intrusiveness, a splayed-out stack of folders on a side table catches my eye. I glance quickly towards the bathroom door where I still hear the water running. With one finger I gently open the top folder, careful not to disrupt the whole pile. Even if it seemed to be carelessly tossed to the side, you never know how protective people are of their own things. I know this is wrong. I know this is a complete invasion of privacy, but the swell of desire to know something secretive about a man so aloof is burning at me from the insides. My eyes quickly run over the first heading:Admissions to the Culinary Institute of America. I carefully maneuver the stack and read the others: Culinary Arts Academy Switzerland, Le Cordon Bleu, Auguste Escoffier School of Culinary Arts, and at least three other culinary institutes. All admissions documents.Switzerland? Shock pulses through me. I had no idea he wanted to go to culinary school. Would he really leave Remington Hills? I take a step back frowning a little.
Have I ever even asked about his interests? About anything?I know our conversations have revolved around me a lot because he wanted to learn more to help in his matchmaking endeavour, but we’re supposed to be friends. So shouldn’t I at least know this about him?
I jump at the sound of the bathroom door opening. I whip my head around and face Dominic, chest bare and a towelwrapped around his hips. My frazzled brain suddenly eddies of all thoughts entirely.
Cue the Bow Chicka Wow Wow music.
I can’t even think of something funny to say to cut the tension that coats the air. And there’s tension all right. My tongue lays thick in my mouth as my eyes trail down from his dark locks to his broad shoulders. His body is covered in intricate tattoos. Sea creatures adorn one side of his rib cage, the glittery shark just visible from where I stand. The rest are hard for me to make out from this distance but I so badly want to look at them up closely and run my fingers over every line. His damp hair releases a few errant water droplets that slide down his neck. I follow the path of the droplets with my eyes down his sculpted chest. The droplets continue over his impeccable abs, and sink further past the folded knot in the towel that Dominic’s one hand grips firmly in a fist.
My eyes linger on his tight grip and, maybe because that dark romance novel is stuck in my psyche, but suddenly the idea of a hand necklace seems less taboo and more desirable by the second. I am having an absolutely feral reaction to his physical form right now, and I have no idea what to do next. I feel like the human version of a lava lamp. Hot, bubbly, and completely useless.
“Hi,” I say stupidly.
His eyes flash with amusement and there I am caught in his web, unable to do anything but stare.
“Hello, Celeste,” he says back, sounding like he can hear exactly how my body is reacting to him.
It’s just that. Just a bodily reaction.Totally natural, I lie to myself.
“Hey, Hoot?” he asks in a lighter tone.
