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“You don’t need to change.” He slows down for a red light. “I mean, if you really want to, you can. But you already look beautiful, Zoey.”
I bite back a smile.
“Should I turn around? Go back to your place?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “I’m good.”
Forty minutes later, we’re standing on a mini-golf course; all around us, charming tunnels and spirals of painted concrete rise from the ground, the chatter of happy couples and families serving as the soundtrack. I love that Dean chose something as fun and lighthearted as this for our first date.
Our first date…
I wonder how many there will be.
“Now, just a gentle sway of your hips and…there it goes. Perfect.” Standing behind me, with his hands on mine, Dean directs the swing of my club. The little white golf ball follows the concrete spiral up ahead, dances around the hole for a couple of seconds, and then plops down into it.
“Nice!” says Dean. “You’re a pro, Zoey.”
“That was all you,” I protest, but he just smiles at me and looks ahead to the next hole. There’s a family ahead of us, so we remain where we are, chatting idly as we wait for the family to finish up. The two kids—a couple of twin boys who can’t be more than five—keep on hitting their golf balls all over the place. Their parents laugh as they call out encouragement.
My heart tugs as I watch the four of them.
Deep down, I’ve always wanted to have what that family has. But that’s something I’ve already given up on. A long string of failed relationships crushed my hopes and dreams, but even before that, I wasn’t very optimistic about relationships, thanks to all the fighting I witnessed between my parents when I was young.
“Hey, you all right?”
Dean’s words pierce through the fog that has settled in my mind. Biting the inside of my cheek, I force all those depressing thoughts to a dark corner of my mind. I don’t want to unload all of my baggage on him. Besides, I’m here to have fun.
“I’m good,” I say. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the twin boys happily marching toward the next hole in the course, and I seize the opportunity. Waving at the next hole with my golf club, I grab Dean by the hand and drag him toward it.
“All right, you,” I say. “It’s your turn to impress me.”
Chapter Five
Dean
By the time I pull up in front of her place, it’s dark outside. A box with a half-eaten pizza is sitting in the backseat of the car, the scent of melted cheese and pepperoni still hanging in the air, and it serves as a memento of what has turned out to be a fantastic first date.
I’ve never laughed so much with someone, or felt so close to someone this quickly.
“Take the pizza,” I tell Zoey, grabbing it from the backseat. “It’ll make for a good late-night snack.”
“I can’t,” she says, draping an arm over her stomach. “It’s too much for me. We could divvy it up, though.” Before I can reply, she grabs the box and opens the door on her side. “Come on. I’ll wrap half in foil and you can take the rest home.”
I get out on my side and follow her into the apartment building. As she walks up the stairs in front of me, my eyes are inevitably drawn to the maddening sway of her hips. By the time I step inside her apartment, I’m so consumed by her curves that it’s a miracle I can think straight.
Zoey heads into the kitchen, placing the pizza box on the counter before rising up on her tiptoes to check the cabinet above the sink. As I watch her breasts push against the fabric of her shirt, her hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders, I can’t take it any longer. Before I even know what the hell I’m doing, I’ve reached out for her and wrapped my fingers around her wrist. I pull her toward me. My mouth finds hers no more than a second later.
She tastes sweet, so sweet, the flavor of her lips making me almost delirious. My hands dart to her hips, my fingers pressing into her flesh. Jesus, I just want to—
“Shit,” I grunt, suddenly pulling back from her. What the hell am I doing? I’m being too intense. I’m going to scare her off. “I’m sorry, Zoey.”
“What for?” She blinks at me, her expression full of need. Placing both hands on my chest, she grabs me by the shirt and pulls me back to her. My mouth crashes against hers once more, and this time, there’s no stopping me.
I push her back against the counter, pinning her against it, heat bursting across my skin everywhere our bodies are pressed together. Driven by need, I pull her shirt over her head and unclasp her bra. The cups fall from her breasts, revealing her rosy nipples, and my mouth lowers to one without a moment’s hesitation.
A moan escapes from Zoey as I brush my lips over her nipple. It pebbles against my lower lip and I start to lick the hard nub, eliciting a louder moan from my gorgeous girl. As I keep working my tongue, I flatten the palm of my hand between her legs, and she presses her hips needfully against my hand.
Jesus, I can practically feel how wet she is.
