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“Now,” he says, “can I interest you in this hospital’s finest cup of coffee?”
I laugh as his hand intertwines with mine and nod. “That sounds perfect.”
We take the elevator down to the first floor, exiting away from the entrance lobby. My eyes scan the door we’re about to enter and realize it’s the doctors’ lounge.
“We have much better coffee in here versus in the cafeteria,” he says, lending a smile.
Derek fills two paper cups with black coffee from a Keurig machine on the counter and doesn’t ask what I want added. Instead, he adds just the right amount of sugar and cream to my cup before handing it over to me. It’s perfect. Just the way I like it. And in that moment, I know we know more about each other than any other boyfriend or girlfriend we’ve had in the past.
We exit the lounge and he leads me to a small patio on the side of the hospital. There are heaters warming the space so it’s not quite as cold as the night air. We sit and sip our hot coffee, exchanging questions, and he tells me a little bit more about the work he’s doing.
“I have an event I’m supposed to plan. As a fundraiser for the Children’s Cancer Center,” he says. “But I’m not quite sure what it will be. I haven’t thought of any ideas that seem worthwhile.”
I bite my lip, taking in this information and wondering if there’s any way I can help Derek come up with a plan for his event. I’ll have to think about it in secret for a few days.
When we finish our coffee, he leads me back out through the breezeway to the parking structure. The sounds of our shoes echo against the concrete walls. It’s oddly silent in here, and aside from the shoe scuffs, all I can hear is my own breathing. I think I’m becoming nervous about what’s going to happen when we get back to my apartment.
How does one navigate dating someone they’re currently roommates with? Is there a protocol? Should there be a protocol? There’s not exactly a manual for this. Someone I’ve known for so long. Someone that I’ve dreamed about going on a date with for so long, and he’s also now living with me. And now we’re on a fucking date. Talk about timing.Wow, that rant confused even me.
I’d be lying if I said I thought us sleeping together on our first date would be inappropriate. Maybe with a total stranger, it’s a little sketch, certainly has risks. I mean, I’ve done that too. But with Derek, there’s so much shared history between us, I don’t think it would be weird at all.
Then again, what if it sets a tone for our relationship? Using the termrelationshipfeels a little premature. I just mean, what if it morphs our current relationship into one that’s based on physical things? It would be easy to fall into lust, to be overcome by ease and let that envelop our friendship. I don’t think I want that.
Perhaps I’m giving this too much thought. As we pull out onto the street, it’s gotten dark, and the lights of the city are illuminating the night sky. You can’t see the stars from here and for a moment, I wonder how far we’d have to go to see them.
Derek’s hand reaches across the console, but instead of taking my hand as he’s done all night, he rests it on my thigh and squeezes gently. It’s not sexual, but reassuring, as if to say,“Everything will be okay. Stop overthinking this.”
I relax back into my seat and enjoy the quiet drive home. Derek puts on gentle music, similar to what was on earlier, and I let it soothe me.
He helps me out of the car as I tuck my wrap tightly around me, realizing it’s gotten much colder than it was earlier.
“It’s supposed to snow tonight,” he says. “Good thing we missed it. Got our first date in the books just in time.”
I laugh, agreeing, because there’s no way inhellI could have worn this dress or these heels if it had already snowed.
We walk up the stairs, every second passing painfully slowly. I unlock the apartment door and we walk inside. The air is thick with desire and uncertainty. I know we’re both wondering what’s about to happen.
“Listen,” he says, “I don’t want this to be weird. But I also don’t think we should sleep together tonight. Trust me, I’ve thought about it. And trust me, I want to. But I don’t want to dive headfirst too quickly.”
His words momentarily stun me. I study his face, wondering if this is his way of gently rejecting me.
“Please focus on the fact that I want to,” he adds. “Just, not yet.”
Oh my Charlie Brown. He saidyet. That means he wants to—eventually.Shit.The wordyetnever sounded so good.Yetholds possibilities. My mind attempts to wrap itself around this information, and part of me wants to freak out but the other part of me tries to play it cool.
“Right,” I say. “Of course, you’re right. There’s no rush.”
“But,” he says, his voice growing lower, “if I may, I’d like to kiss you.”
My breath hitches in my chest becauseholy fucking fuck,Derek Tanner wants to kiss me. And I never thought this day would come but it’s here now and I have to stop the panic attack that’s rising in my throat. I swallow it back down hard, nodding toward him. I don’t trust myself to say anything. I need to preserve all my energy to restrain myself once his lips touch mine.
He walks to me, a mere few measured steps, and then he’s right in front of me, reaching down, caressing my jawline with his thumb. His eyes are fixed on mine. They’re the iciest blue I’ve ever seen and I have to remember to breathe. I remind myself over and over again that it will be okay and just to breathe.
“I had a great time with you tonight,” he says. “And I hope you’ll let me take you out again.”
I nod, unable to speak as he lowers his lips to mine, hovering for just a moment, only an inch or so away, and then we connect. His lips press against mine, gently at first before deepening, becoming more passionate.
I give into the moment, letting all the panic and worry melt away. In an instant, everything I’ve felt for this man since I was twelve comes bubbling up to the surface, itching to spill over into reality.
