He drains the remainder of his whiskey in one swallow and signals for the check. While we wait, he wraps his hand around mine again, his thumb stroking over the inside of my palm.
"I've really enjoyed tonight, Annie," he says, his voice low and intimate. "I hope we can do this again soon."
"I'd like that," I murmur. His touch feels warm, pleasurable, but nothing like what I remember Elio’s fingers feeling like against mine. My chest doesn’t tighten, my breath doesn’t catch.But I don’t want that,I remind myself. Nothing so painful or so intense. Simple desire is all I’m after, attraction that’s strong enough for good sex—not that I know what that is, yet—but not so overwhelming that I could lose myself in the other person.
Something simpler and so much less dangerous than what I once felt for Elio.
His other hand finds my knee under the table, and I tense. This is farther than I’m ready to go yet. "You're incredible, you know that? Beautiful, intelligent, sophisticated. Any man would be lucky to have you."
I smile, but it feels shaky.This is what I’m supposed to want, right? His touch, his desire. This is what I’m after.But his hand brushing the side of my knee doesn’t feel right. Not like?—
"Thank you," I manage, trying to shift away from his touch without being obvious about it.Stop thinking about Elio,I tell myself firmly.Think about this.Desmond is handsome and intelligent, and charming. He’s what I want, and most importantly, he’s who I’ve chosen to go out with.
"I mean it," he says with a smile, his hand moving higher up my thigh, brushing the soft skin just below the edge of my skirt. "I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about you until we do this again.”
"Desmond.” My voice is sharp enough to make him pause.
He pulls his hand back quickly, having the good grace at least to look sheepish. “Sorry,” he says, giving me a rueful smile. "I got carried away. You're just so… tempting."
The check arrives and he pays quickly, leaving a generous tip. As we prepare to leave, he helps me with my jacket, his hands lingering on my shoulders longer than necessary. I wait for the tingling to spread across my skin at his touch, to feel as if the heat of his hands is sinking into my skin, pulling me into him. But I don’t feel it. I’m interested, curious, but something is missing.
Inexplicably, a rush of anger burns through me, directed right at Elio, who isn’t even here to defend himself.How dare he ruin me like this?I seethe as I walk out with Desmond to where the car is waiting.How dare he make me feel things I can’t find again, and then leave?He didn’t take my virginity, but he ruined me all the same, it feels like. Like I can’t want a perfectly normal, charming, handsome man because I don’t feel the rush, the stomach-twisting, panting, melting desire that I once felt for a boy who left me.
The ride back to my house is quieter than the drive to dinner. Desmond seems lost in thought, and I find myself studying his profile in the dim light from the dashboard. He's undeniably handsome, and he's clearly interested in me. So why do I feel so unsettled?
Maybe it's just nerves. It has been a long time since I've been on a date, and longer still since I've been with someone who seemed genuinely interested in pursuing something serious. Maybe I'm overthinking things, reading too much into his gestures and comments. And seeing Elio earlier today is no doubt messing this all up as well. If I hadn’t seen him, I think, this would have all gone so much better. I wouldn’t be remembering things that I’ve put out of my head for years now.
"Penny for your thoughts," Desmond says, glancing over at me.
"Just thinking about the show," I lie, feeling my stomach twist. "It was really beautiful."
"It was," he agrees. "Though not as beautiful as my date." His hand reaches over the console, settling on my knee again. It’s warm, and broad, and firm, and I wonder what it would feel like if I let that hand wander wherever it pleased. If I let Desmond seduce me. Could I let go and just let it happen? Would he be gentle with me? How would he feel about taking my virginity?
Would it be a conquest for him or an honor?
I swallow hard, reaching out to touch the back of his hand. I trace the fine veins there, and I feel a ripple of tension run through him. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?"
"Only when I'm with someone worth charming.” He flashes a smile at me as he pulls into my driveway.
Leon and the other guards are already there, having arrived ahead of us. I can see them taking up positions around the property, and I'm grateful for their presence. Whatever else is on my mind tonight, I don’t feel as if I need to worry about my safety, and that’s a relief.
Desmond walks me to the door, his hand on the small of my back again. When we reach the front steps, he turns to face me, and I can see the expectation in his eyes.
"Thank you for tonight," I say quickly before he can lean in for a kiss. "I had a wonderful time."
"So did I," he murmurs, moving closer. "When can I see you again?"
“Let me see what I have going on next weekend.” I look up at him, taking in the contours of his handsome face in the lights of the courtyard. “I’d like to do this again, too, though.”
As I say it, I realize I do mean it. I don’t want this to be our only date just because of the weird day I had, a former flame showing up again, and my own awkwardness with relationships. “Good night,” I say softly, and I see the heat in his eyes as he looks down at me.
"Good night, beautiful," he murmurs, and this time he does lean in for a kiss. I turn my head slightly so that his lips catch my cheek instead of my mouth, and I feel him tense with frustration.
"I'll talk to you soon," I say, already reaching for my keys.
"I’ll be waiting.” His voice carries a promise that makes me shiver.
I let myself into the house quickly, locking the door behind me and leaning against it with a sigh. Through the window, Iwatch Desmond get back into his car and drive away, and only then do I allow myself to really think about the evening.
