AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Fiercely.
And I hate myself for it.
Is this some weird twist on Stockholm Syndrome? I don’t know, but I do know that I’m nowhere near as invested in this blind date Tessa set up with her brother-in-law as I should be.
I choose a sexy little black dress that accentuates my curves and style my blonde hair in luscious beach waves. A smoky eye and red lipstick finish the look, but there’s no excitement thrumming in my body like I hoped there would be. Instead, when the buzzer goes off announcing that Ben is here, I have to close my eyes and give myself a pep talk.
You’re moving on. This is what moving on looks like, and you deserve to be taken out on a date and to have a good time. Tess wouldn’t set you up with a dud.
I inhale deeply and then release it as I open my eyes, grab my purse, then head downstairs to meet him.
Ben is exactly like Tessa described him and how I remembered him from the one photo I saw. He’s tall—at least six feet two—with a chiseled jawline covered in trim brown facial hair that isn’t quite a beard, but doesn’t make him look scruffy in the slightest. His warm, brown eyes light up when he sees me, and his mouth tilts up in an absolutely gorgeous smile. He’s got the build of a football player, and I fight back a smile because Tess totally knows my type. This guy screams athlete, even if he’s not one anymore.
“You’re even more beautiful in person.” His cheeks get pink. “Shit. I didn’t mean to say that aloud, but Tessa held out on me. The picture I saw of you blew me away, but it still didn’t do you justice.”
I tuck my chin and fight back my own smile at his compliment. He delivers it so sincerely, but there’s still no flutter or giddy excitement in my belly.
He opens the car door for me and I get in. On the way to the restaurant, he asks me how my day was and I tell him. There’s definitely some first date awkwardness, but Ben is easygoing, and that awkwardness fades by the time we get to the restaurant.
As we order food and continue talking, I wait for a spark, anything, to ignite, but there’s nothing.
Not a damn thing.
Ben is great. He checks off every box I could have for a good match. He’s educated, has a stable job, and his own apartment. He’s got a good relationship with his family and a gorgeous smile that never fails to make my own smile fill my face. He even held my chair out for me as I sat down. Ben is everything I should want, and yet, my heart doesn’t flutter when he smiles at me. It doesn’t change at all. My stomach doesn’t tighten with anticipation of how he might find a way to touch my hand, or if he’ll laugh at my jokes.
There’s no chemistry whatsoever.
And to say I’m disappointed about that would be a huge understatement. All through our meal, I beg my libido to sit up and take notice. For my heart to start racing, or that warm tingle to start in the apex of my thighs.
But there’s not a goddamn thing.
Despite our complete lack of chemistry, I’m determined to see this through. Ben’s a nice guy and I need to get over Dom—even if just the thought of him makes my heart start to beat rapidly—so I laugh at Ben’s jokes and tell him a little about my life. We commiserate about job challenges since we both work in corporate America. He talks about how close he is with his brother—Tessa’s husband, Mike—and sister, Anna. I learn that he played baseball in college, but stopped after a knee injury. Now he coaches his nephew’s T-ball team since his brother-in-law is deployed. In turn, I tell him about growing up as an only child and how desperately I wanted siblings. So bad that when I was six, I brought home my friend’s little brother and told my parents he was now my little brother. Both sets of parents had a good laugh at my naivety. I tell him about my dad, and he reaches for my hand when I share that he died in a car accident. His touch is soothing, and another nail in our lack-of-chemistry coffin.
By the time dinner is over and he grabs the check, I’m trying hard to hide my disappointment that I haven’t experienced even a single flutter of lust.
He pays for our dinner and then drives me back to my place. When we arrive, he opens the car door for me and then walks me inside with his hand resting on the middle of my back. It’s a respectful touch, and I can’t help wondering if this is what Dom would do at the end of a date. Or would his touch be lower, more intimate, and a little possessive.
I flush at the thought and fight the urge to literally shake these thoughts from my head.
I should not be thinking about Dom right now, I tell myself for the millionth time tonight. Maybe that’s my problem. I spent too much time comparing Ben’s actions to what Dom might do during the majority of our date. Maybe if I kiss Ben goodnight, that might spark something. Although I doubt a kiss will change our lack of chemistry, but I’ll never know unless I try. It worked for Monica in that one episode of Friends when she kissed Pete. Maybe it can work for me too. A girl can hope.
Except when the elevator doors part on my floor, I see someone leaning against the wall near my door. Someone whose large frame I’d recognize anywhere.
Dom.
A swarm of butterflies takes off in my belly, and that elusive tingle between my thighs ignites like I just threw gasoline on a fire. But with all my lust comes anger. Why? Why now and not all night long when I was on a date with the perfect guy? Why is Dom the only man who makes my body light up like this? Who the hell in the universe did I piss off enough that my plight in life is to feel this way for the one man who doesn’t feel the same?
Seriously, what the fuck, universe?
Dom’s head turns at the sound of the elevator and he pushes off the wall, his light-blue eyes landing on me with an intensity that steals the breath from my lungs.
I’ve always thought Dom was attractive. He could be a doppelgänger for Jesse Williams, except even more fit and bulky. His eyes, though, have always been my favorite physical trait of his—a piercing aquamarine blue that never fails to ensnare me.
Seeing him after missing him these past three days is a confusing mix of relief and frustration, and it’s becoming painfully apparent that those three days didn’t make a damn bit of difference. I’m not sure any length of time will change how much I love him, and now I’m more convinced than ever that the universe is punishing me for something. And doing a damn fine job of it because this is fucking torture.
Dom’s gaze slides over to the space next to me and then back to meet mine, a look I can’t name in those crystal blues.
A clearing of a throat beside me grabs my attention, and I remember my date and the person Dom’s gaze slid to.
