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He brings my chest to his. My low-cut dress pushes my breasts up, giving me ample cleavage.
Leaning in near my ear, he says low and deep, "What if I want to kiss you?"
His whisper sends a shiver through my body.
Instead of waiting to see if he does kiss me, I grab his face and plant a hard one on his lips. The people surrounding us at the bar roar, hollering and chanting. I smile against his mouth and Daniel's hands roam my back, stopping at my hips. He's gentle, I can tell. Breaking the kiss, I look at his mouth and start giggling.
"What?" he asks, looking confused.
"You have huge red lips slanted across your mouth," I answer, trying to contain my laughter.
He's surprised and wipes his mouth off with a napkin.
"So tell me about you. I feel like all we've done is talk about me."
"We have. That was the goal," I respond, like it was planned that way.
I give him my old nanny job details. It’s the perfect cover. If this thing between us goes anywhere, I can always say I have to babysit if Christine texts me with a job.
"I don’t even like kids," I say, then add that I'm majoring in sociology with the goals to either go into law or something related to children and families.
His eyes are filled with laughter as he watches me. "That doesn't make any sense. You don't like kids, yet you want to make a career out of working with them?"
"Well, I guess I like them, kind of, I just don't like babysitting them for long stretches of time. And it's not like I would be working closely with them if I made a career…" I stop and give him a droll stare. "Would you want to babysit someone else’s kids for forty-eight hours straight?"
Daniel grins. "Not really. Do you want kids?"
"Whoa, Daniel. We just met. Slow your roll. I'm not ready for my own little monsters yet. You didn't even get to second base."
"You're such a sarcastic ass," he says, and laughs. "Why do I have this feeling there's never a dull moment with you around?"
I playfully bat my lashes and he tugs me closer to his side again, leaving his hand to rest on my hip.
We chat about our upbringings. He comes from a large family of accountants, and I, well, what more could I say about Grammy other than she’s a saint. I learn he’s a Mets fan, which causes us to teasingly argue because I’m a Yankees fan, and there’s no better team than the Yankees. We talk for a while about everything and nothing until we get the check and he pays, then we walk across the street to grab a couple slices of pizza.
The night is fun. No stress, no pressure, just easygoing conversation that I didn’t realize I desperately needed.
I take the train back home with my mind focused on Daniel. I can’t remember the last time I had a real date and try to jog my memory. The only thing that comes to mind is my time with James, but that doesn’t really count.
James.
My heart lurches just thinking about him and how incredible that day was. I wonder if he’ll request me again. He’d wanted to create a moment to remember, and that’s exactly what he did.
I pass out the moment I get in my bed. My thoughts filled with James. Daniel. James and Daniel with me sandwiched in the middle. Mmm…
Twenty-Six
"Nat, Nat, wake up," I say softly, shaking her. "Wake up."
Natalie rolls onto her side. Her blonde hair is matted to the side of her face and she's looking at me, but not really seeing me. I think she came home after I did last night.
"Is someone dead?" she asks, her voice groggy.
I frown. "No?"
"The building on fire?"
"No?"
