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“Wow,” I say. “You look amazing.”
Rex’s smile is brilliant. Against the light sweater, his skin looks tan and luminous, his reddish brown stubble darker than usual. His hair falls in his face as he leans down to kiss me and I can’t help but push one hand into the soft strands and pull him closer with the other, feeling the incredible warmth he always gives off. Now there’s a light scent of wool and cedar added to his usual pine and wood smoke smell.
“You wouldn’t say where we were going,” he says, “so I went with something versatile.”
“Oh, well, it’s nothing too exciting, so—”
“I don’t care what we do,” Rex says, elbowing me gently like I should know better.
“No, I know. I just wanted to take you out on a real date. I’ve never really done that before. Anyway, should we go?”
I’m actually really pleased with myself for finding anything to do in this town that Rex might like. I’m taking Rex to dinner and then to see The Phantom of Liberty, which, according to the chair of my department, is a classic of Surrealist French cinema from the 1970s, and he can’t believe I didn’t know that there’s a film series on campus. I figure with his love for classic movies, Rex will be totally into it, and since it’s French, he’s less likely to have already seen it.
Rex is in a great mood. At dinner, in a cozy round booth, Rex tells me about custom furniture pieces he’s seen that he’d like to try making and teases me about things he’s heard people saying about me around town. Apparently, Carrie and Naomi, the high-school-age waiters at the diner, talk about my clothes, my hair, and—Rex elbows me—how cute I am. I get the feeling that, since Rex barely talks to anyone when he’s out, he overhears a lot. Probably even a lot that he isn’t telling me.
When I tell him about Marjorie and The Daniel, he lets out a low, rolling laugh I haven’t heard before.
As we’re eating our entrées, Rex says, “How much of you asking me on a date is because of Will?” He doesn’t sound mad or disappointed or anything, just curious.
“What? None of it.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“I’m not judging. God knows I got jealous enough of that guy Jay, even if he wasn’t actually after you.”
I squirm.
“Oh, um, well, you were right, it turns out. About Jay. I forgot to tell you before because of Will showing up, but he sort of asked me out on Friday, before I left for Detroit. Last Friday, I mean.”
“What did you say?” Rex asks evenly.
“I said no,” I say, studying his face for a reaction. But he looks as calm as ever.
“How come?”
His voice is casual but his expression is intense. Like he’s trying very hard not to lead me in answering.
“I—because I… we—I guess I thought we—I mean, I don’t know… maybe we’re not….”
“You said no because we’re dating?”
I wouldn’t have necessarily put it like that. Rex is not Richard, I repeat over and over in my head, as if Ginger were yelling it at me. I nod miserably, but a warm smile spreads across his face.
Rex speaks slowly, like he’s considering his words very carefully.
“Because you don’t want to date anyone else? Or you do, but you’re just not interested in Jay?”
I grab my wine and swallow a few gulps.
“Both. I mean, no. The first one. And I’m not interested in Jay. But, I mean, you can—date other people. Like, because we haven’t had that conversation, I know.”
“I think we’re having it right now,” Rex says. He scoots closer to me in the booth, so our knees are touching. I look down at his thighs, let them take over my whole field of vision. There is no conversation. There is nothing but Rex’s powerful thighs.
“I don’t want to date anyone else, Daniel,” Rex says. His voice is low and possessive, his hand covering my thigh. My head jerks up. He’s looking at me tenderly and my heart starts to pound. I swallow again, my throat dry.
“Neither do I.” It comes out like a whisper.
“Lucky me,” Rex drawls, smiling.
I grin at him and start to laugh, totally relieved.
After that, we don’t have time for dessert if I want to get us to the movie in time, so Rex says we’ll go back to his house later and he’ll show me how to bake something. Just the idea of watching his big hands and powerful body as he bakes sends a flush of arousal through me. I picture him peeling off that heavy sweater and doing it shirtless in those tight jeans.
Rex throws an easy arm over my shoulder as we walk to the movie, pulling me into his warmth. Suddenly, I can’t believe that this is my life. I have a… there’s no other word for it: boyfriend. I have a boyfriend and we’re out on a date, and he has his arm around my shoulder. I don’t even have a frame of reference for this feeling.
