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“Yes, Damon, thank you,” I snap.
He holds his hands up, still smirking.
I take a deep breath. Holding my coat between my clenched fingers, I raise my other hand to knock.
Then…
I lower it again.
Damon bursts into snickers.
Over the last two weeks, I would not say that Damon and I bonded. But David’s driver and I have come to a somewhat neutral relationship, partly because he has seen me in a version of the walk of shame so many times now that he doesn’t blink and partly because he admitted to me once that he likes havingsomeone who talks to him. Apparently, David’s usual hookups don’t stick around long enough to learn his name.
But right now, friendly relationship or not, I want him to stop laughing at me.
“Can you please go away!?” I wave a hand at him dismissively, and he laughs as he climbs into the car.
This wassucha bad idea. What am I doing here?
I am about to turn away when the door opens.
“Damon, what’s all—Laura!” David exclaims.
He is clearly surprised to see me. It makes my face burn.
“I know we didn’t have plans,” I hedge. He nods, just like he does at work when he’s waiting for me to continue talking. I shift from foot to foot. “But… well, would you invite me in?”
I had a bit of a plan, but Damon’sright there.
David steps aside, gesturing for me to enter his house.
I’ve been here a few times now, but I’m still shocked by the opulence of it. There’s an immaculateness to his place that seems like it should be a museum, not a home. I turn in a small circle, just taking in the grand foyer and reveling in the fact that someoneliveshere. This is where David relaxes. David does his laundry here. David makes toast here. How very, very strange.
He closes the door and turns to look at me, expectedly.
I notice him for the first time.
“Oh!” I gasp, hands to my mouth. “Oh, you had such a night planned!”
He snorts. “Not really,” he gestures to himself, as if that’s answer enough.
David’s already in pajamas. I can see the check print on his bottoms sticking out from below his robe, which is a rich and luxurious black velvet. His hair is mussed and his glasses sit on the bridge of his nose.
He looks… cozy.
Real.
It’s not that David doesn’t seem real. Well, sure, he’s a super human handsome and out of this world as an attorney. But here, even in a room that I am far too poor to afford even a door hinge, even in pajamas that cost more than my rent, he looks… almost touchable.
Impossibly, it makes me want him even more. I feel drawn to him in a way that feels impossible to explain. The heat in my belly fades, but it hasn’t actually gone away since that first night together.
He’s here, and he’s attainable, even if it’s just in this little way, in this one instance.
Ihaveto go for it, don’t I?
I bite my bottom lip. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
For some reason, this seems to fluster him. He removes them, folding them gently and putting them in his front pocket.
