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My eyes flutter shut as I inhale his cologne before he steps back. He’s wearing black dress pants, a black vest, and a blue button-up shirt that matches his eyes, making them look unbelievably vibrant.Damn.“So do you.”
“He brought these for you,” Drew says, interrupting my admiration. She holds up the vase of white roses, a big cheesy smile on her face.
“Thank you,” I say, my eyes still glued on him.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
I nod, too afraid to say more at the moment.
Drew assures me she’ll lock up with her spare key after she grabs her things from my room, practically pushing us out the door.
We descend the stairs slowly and silently, and for a moment I worry we won’t have anything to talk about.What if knowing each other as well as we do makes this awkward?
Derek opens the passenger door of his sleek black Mercedes for me, helping me make sure all of my dress is in before closing it.
As he situates himself behind the wheel, he looks at me. “If memory serves me, you really like steak?”
“That would be correct,” I confirm, clicking my seatbelt into place.
“Good,” he says. “Because I’m taking you for a bucket of chicken.”
We both laugh for a moment as his car roars to life. Then I stop breathing as Derek’s hand moves over the center console. Everything is in slow motion.Oh my goddess.
He presses his hand against my thigh, giving it a little squeeze, then turns his palm upward, silently asking for mine in return.Oh my fudgsicle.For the first time ever, my hand slides into his, palm to palm. The warmth of the connection is soothing. He laces his fingers between mine, his large hand and my small one somehow fitting together perfectly.Oh. My. Gollum.
“Is this all right?” he asks, and I nod again, still untrusting of my voice.
The next thing I know, we’re driving down the road, soft music is filling the car, and I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face if someone held me at gunpoint.
EVERY LITTLE THING
DEREK
It’s hard to explain how it happens. You see someone you’ve seen a million times. You’ve known them more than half your life—spent countless hours in their company, holidays and birthdays. But one day, they walk into the room wearing a long black dress, their lips are stained red, and you have to tear your eyes away from their perfect peach skin so you can speak.
It’s difficult to put a word to that.
I held Willette’s hand on the drive to the restaurant and she let me. That’s gotta be a good sign. We didn’t do a whole lot of talking, just enjoyed the comfortable silence between us while gentle music played. But I’ve never seen her like this. I mean, I think I’ve seen her dressed up once, maybe twice. But still.Not like this.
I tried flipping through the rolodex of memories and moments in my mind, tried recalling some other time I saw her even close to something likethis, but nothing comes to me. She’s beautiful to be sure, that’s always been true. Maybe it’s just the extra time I’ve spent in her company, but something makes me want to push the boundaries—see this other side of her, get to know her on a completely different level than I do now.
After parking, I hold the door open for her and help her step out of the car. Then I take her hand in mine again and lead her toward the entrance. I hand an attendant my keys in exchange for a ticket, then another person opens the door for us.
“Two under Tanner,” I say to the maître d’.
“Ah, yes, Dr. Tanner. Right this way,” he says, holding a hand out in the direction of the dining room.
At my urging, I managed to get us seated in a more private area of the venue. There aren’t too many tables in this section, and they’re spaced out more, so you don’t feel like everyone can hear what you’re saying.
The man lights the candle on our table, letting us know a server will be with us in a moment, then heads back to his post.
“Wow, this place is beautiful,” Willette says, pulling the cloth napkin from beneath her silverware and spreading it over her lap.
“You’ve never been here?” I ask, though I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.
She tilts her head at me and giggles softly. “Is that a serious question?”
“Fair enough.” I know she’s trying to avoid making mention of the type of guys she usually dates, or how this definitely isn’t the kind of place they would bring her. And, I’d rather not pick on her about it like I normally would. I think it’s safe to say it’s just common knowledge at this point, and there’s no need to dwell on it let alone bring it up. However, I do take some pride in knowing I’m the man that’s showing her something she’s never seen before.
