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I nodded. “I work a consistent schedule. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, seven to seven. Days.”
“Those are long shifts.”
“They are, but I only work three days a week, which is nice.”
All of a sudden, I started to feel nervous again, the panic and confusion on first-date etiquette clogged my brain. Was I supposed to kiss him as a thank-you? I wanted to, boy did I, but I didn’t know how to initiate. It was going to be an awkward kiss because I felt awkward. Did I lean in first? Close my eyes? Did I—
“Would it be all right if I called you?” he asked, breaking into my ridiculous train of thought.
“Oh.” That wasn’t what I’d been expecting. Once again. I figured he’d ask if he could come inside. Every single time he did the unexpected. “I… I’d like that.”
I licked my lips again and I couldn’t help but fiddle with the seat belt. I wanted to look anywhere but at him. It would be rude to bolt from the car, so was I supposed to open my own door? He’d done it for me all the other times today. “Gray—”
“Breathe, Emory.”
This had my gaze whipping up to his.
“What?” I asked, my voice a little high pitched, and I blushed.
“You seem…nervous again.” His dark eyes met mine, then drifted to my mouth.
“I am,” I admitted. I gave him a thin smile. “I know your neat-freak secret so I’ll tell you one of mine.”
He cocked his head to the side slightly. I recognized this as something he did when curious. “Okay. But it’s got to be a good one. I mean, being a neat freak is pretty hard to top.”
I rolled my eyes, instantly relaxed. “I’m not sure what’s supposed to happen now. I’ve…I’ve never really been on a date before. I know, this was just a coincidence, but still.” I glanced down at my lap, then back at him. “I met my ex in college, and we didn’t really date. We skipped a whole bunch of steps to the one where I got pregnant by mistake. Then married. Then fourteen years later, divorced. Those two awful blind dates I mentioned don't count, so I think this is actually my first real date.”
He looked surprised for a moment, then he smiled. “I really like that I’m your first.”
I looked at him sideways. “It…doesn’t bother you?”
He reached across the center console and brushed a lock of hair that had escaped my ponytail back from my face, tucked it behind my ear. It seemed to be something he really liked to do and I didn't mind. At all. I lifted my eyes to meet his as he ran his finger down my cheek. The feeling was exhilarating, the skin he touched tingling in his wake. I really wasn’t breathing now.
“That you’re not a player?” His voice was almost a whisper. “That you’re smart and honest and open and starting your life all over again?”
“Well, yeah.” I sighed because he understood.
Instead of answering my question, he said, “Do you know what happens now?” He dropped his hand. “At the end of a date?”
“I thought this wasn’t a date.”
“Right, a coincidence,” he said, the corner of his mouth tipping up. “Let’s pretend it was a date then. Do you know what happens?”
The car seemed very small all of a sudden. “Well, I have some ideas.” I lowered my eyes to his mouth.
“Such as…” His dark voice trailed off.
“My single friends always talk about kissing, or asking a guy inside, or they talk about their one-night stands and even their walks of shame.”
“I never want you to do a walk of shame, Emory.”
He sounded a little mad mentioning that.
He took my hand, held it beside the stick shift. His fingers were warm, his touch gentle as his thumb rubbed over my palm in slow circles. I felt the zing behind this simple gesture all the way to my toes. I darted a look up at his eyes and saw the same reaction I felt, the same flare of heat at the simple touch.
“I don’t want a one-night stand with you. You’re not going to ask me inside either. I’m the one that’s going to seduce you, Emory, which means you’ll be in my bed. Soon.” His eyes dropped to my lips. “I want to kiss you. Jesus, I want to taste you, but I want you to be ready first.”
I frowned, yet surprisingly turned on by his words. He was rejecting me? Wait, he said he was going to seduce me.
