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I know she does, and they all involve me.
I’ve read about her cravings. I’ve come too many times to the thought of satisfying every one of them.
Hurriedly, she pushes back from the table. “I need to go, Dr. Hawthorne.”
I stand too. I fucking love hearing her call me that. Is it shameful that I enjoy it as much as I do? Of course it is, but it’s my fantasy, and thank fuck I don’t write that shit down because anyone who stumbled on it and read it would have a goddamn heart attack.
“It’s Matthew,” I remind her because in some way I can’t explain, I do want to be her friend.
“Right,” she says with a nod of her head. “You’re Matthew and I’m Faith.”
As fucking adorable as she is, I don’t want her to rush out of here panicked in any way, and I can tell that she’s embarrassed by her admission that she craves things.
I scramble for something to say that will keep her in my orbit. I don’t want her to slam her apartment door shut and then set out on a mission to avoid me in the future at all costs.
“I have a friend you should meet,” I say, without thinking it through, but fuck it, it’s a plan, and I’m going with it.
She turns to face me. “A friend?”
“He’s great,” I begin, “I think you two…”
Her hands drop to her hips. “Thank you, but I don’t need you to set me up.”
Jesus Christ.
Does she think I’d actually try and set her up with another man? For what purpose? So that her first time can be with some undeserving schmuck?
I know it can’t be with me either, but I’m coming to terms with that. It’ll take time.
“It’s not a set up,” I grind those words out through a clenched jaw. “It’s a friend of mine. He works in emergency medicine. Gavin. Gavin Fuller is his name.”
She clasps her hands together in front of her. “Oh, a doctor.”
“Right.” I nod. “He’s living your dream, so let’s meet up with him for a coffee one day.”
“Let’s?” she repeats. “You’ll come too?”
I stare at her lips because in a perfect world, she’d say that just as she was on the verge of an orgasm with my dick buried inside of her.
My world is imperfect, though, because that can never happen.
I snap back to reality. “I’ll make the introductions. I’ll reach out to Gavin, and we can set something up from there.”
“I’d like that.” She takes a deep breath. “I appreciate you doing that for me, Matthew.”
“It’s my pleasure, Faith.”
It is my pleasure. Doing her a favor doesn’t come close to the things I really want to do for her, but it’ll do. It has to do.
Chapter Twenty-One
Faith
Dear Diary,
I had dinner at Matthew’s apartment tonight. Seriously. Dinner at his apartment with him.
I was so nervous and couldn’t stop staring at the tattoo on his arm. When he stood up to get another bottle of sparkling water, he reached over the table to grab the empty salad bowl. I caught the briefest glimpse of his stomach under his shirt.
That was everything I ever imagined and more. I saw abs and a thin line of trimmed hair that disappeared under his jeans.
It almost felt like he was flirting with me, but that had to have been my imagination.
Right?
There’s no way in hell Dr. Hawthorne thinks about me the same way I think about him - with no clothes and condoms involved.
-F.U.
After reading my diary entry from the other night, I snap the cover shut and shove the book into my backpack. I do up the zipper for good measure because the last thing I need is to drop my diary again.
I lived through that horror once and came up relatively unscathed. I don’t want it to happen again.
From where I’m sitting on a bench, I look to my left and then my right, quickly realizing Gwynn is a no-show.
We agreed to meet near the fresh fruit market I like to grab some toppings for pancakes. That was our stay at home cheat meal plan for tonight, but obviously, she had a better offer.
I fire off a text message to her.
Faith: I’m going home to eat the best pancakes ever by myself. I hope you’re okay.
Her response is almost instant.
Gwynn: Oops. My bad for not texting you sooner. I met someone while I was on my way there. He’s buying me dinner!
That’s followed by a bunch of random emojis, including a peach and an eggplant, so Gwynn’s evening plans far outreach mine by a long shot.
I shoot her another text and a reminder.
Faith: Have fun and be safe.
I stand and take a second to smooth my hand over the front of my jeans. I brush away the crumbs that gathered there as I ate a package of crackers I found in my backpack. I skipped lunch today in favor of studying. It was worth it, and besides, I’m thirty minutes away from eating a stack of fluffy pancakes topped with fresh berries and maple syrup.
