Page 7 of The Date

His eyes briefly flicker down to my mouth before he leans in to kiss me.

He brushes his lips against mine once, then twice. It’s featherlight, but oh so good. When I part my lips, he slides an arm around my waist, tugging me closer, and deepens the kiss.

It isn’t rushed or hesitant. It’s the kind of kiss that consumes you and makes everything else disappear. The hum of the street, the distant traffic, even the fact that we’re standing outside my apartment building, where someone could walk out at any second.

There’s so much confidence and certainty in his movements that it makes me forget how to breathe. One second I’m aware of every reason this shouldn’t feel as intense as it does, and the next I’m not thinking about anything at all. I’m swept away in everything that’s him.

Something about this man is so unexpected. He spent the entire night teasing me, challenging me, and pretending he wasn’t completely intrigued. Now he’s all softness and warmth, as though the control he’s clung to is finally slipping.

It’s the first time I’ve been out with a man who was genuinely interested in everything I had to say. He asked questions, listened to my answers, and actually seemed to care about what I was telling him.

My mother tells me that kind of man is rare. I’ve heard her say more than once, usually when she’s referring to my father, “He’s a male, Rose, so everything you say goes in one ear and out the other.”

Brendan was nothing like that. Granted, it’s our first date, so either he’s good at faking it, or I hit the jackpot with this one.

By the time he draws out of the kiss, I feel like I’m swaying on my feet. He rests his forehead against mine for a brief moment before sighing, releasing his hold on me, and stepping back.

“Can I get your number?” he asks, sliding his hand into his trouser pocket and pulling out his phone.

He unlocks the screen and holds it out to me. I don’t hesitate to type in my digits, because I want to see him again.

When I hand it back, he retreats another step, pocketing his phone as he does. “Goodnight, my beautiful Rose.”

I can’t help but smile. “Goodnight.”

My brain feels fuzzy as I punch in the code, open the glass door to my building and enter. I want to turn to see if he’s still standing there, but I don’t. I’m a tad freaked out by how well tonight went. I’ve never been drawn to a man so quickly before, and that thought has me feeling off-kilter. I don’t want him to think I’m too eager or that I’m willingly going to jump in the sack with him. I need to play it cool, in case these feelings are all one-sided.

I didn’t even want to go on the blind date when Melody first suggested it. I don’t like the unknown, but she’s the only friend I’ve made since moving here, so in the end, I thought, what could it hurt?

She organised everything. She booked the restaurant and gave me the time and place. I made it clear that I wanted to meet him first before giving him my number. It seemed easier that way. If things didn’t work out, I could simply walk away without having to worry about an awkward goodbye or a stream of unwanted messages afterwards.

The tip of my finger ghosts across my lips as I cross the lobby, heading for the lifts. As I press the button, my phone dings in my purse. An instant smile curves the corners of my mouth when I pull it out and glance down at the screen.

Unknown number: Are you free tomorrow night?

Tonight has exceeded all my expectations. I need to send Melody some flowers in the morning to thank her.

Me: Have you even made it back to your fancy car yet?

Unknown number: No, I’m still standing where you left me. I wanted to make sure you got inside safely.

I place my hand on my chest and release a dreamy sigh.

Me: That’s sweet.

Unknown number: You still haven’t answered my question.

Me: Yes, I’m free. Name the place and time, and I’ll be there.

Unknown number: How about you tell me where you work and I can pick you up tomorrow evening?

Me: If I do that, do you promise not to use your buffness to come after my handsy boss? I can’t afford to lose this job. Not until I find another.

Unknown number: Why would I do that? You just admitted you’re a female version of Jackie Chan. I’d be more worried about what you’d do to him.

When the elevator dings and the doors open, I step out onto my floor.

Me: And here you were waiting to make sure I got into the building safely. Maybe I should’ve walked you back to your car instead.