Since that day, we’ve had three more coffee dates, each revealing more about the man Keaton is now. The more I discover, the more I like him. He’s changed in every way. Emotionally, mentally, and even physically. His muscles are more defined, he has more tattoos, and I think I even saw the shadow of new piercings beneath his shirt.
A shiver skims down my spine as I imagine catching him shirtless, wondering what other secrets his body might be hiding now.
Desire flickers deep within me, stealing my breath for a moment.
Oh, boy.
Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it’s not. Only time will tell.
We’re both learning each other all over again, two new people shaped by a year of change.
Our dates have been fun, but not always easy. I’ve faced a few old triggers, but Keaton always notices, always finds a way to pull me back and coax out a smile.
He’s been so damn amazing, and every time, I find myself surprised all over again.
I’m more than ready for this real date, eager to see what he’s planned. After every coffee date, he’d tease that he was working on something special, leaving me buzzing with curiosity.
There are still a hundred ways this new relationship could fall apart. But I don’t want regrets. I want to keep discovering this new Keaton, because I’m irresistibly drawn to who he’s become.
I haven’t let things get physical between us. Not that he’s pushed. I’m still taking it slow. When he asked about boundaries, I told him handholding was fine. And, because I can’t stop wondering what those soft lips of his feel like, I let him kiss me anywhere but my mouth.
Every time his velvety lips graze my skin, sparks of arousal shoot through me, lighting me up from the inside. It’s been solong since I felt that with him, I always close my eyes and savor every second.
I crave more of his touch, hugs, and kisses, and everything in between, but that longing scares me. I need us to be more than just physical.
Keaton pulls up, hops out, and circles the car to reach me in a heartbeat.
He smiles, his eyes roaming over my body as he takes me in. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”
“You said casual, so I’m hoping this is okay,” I reply, running my hand down my rolled-up jeans.
I paired my jeans with a vintage AC/DC tee knotted at the waist and chunky wedges. My makeup is simple—just mascara, eyeliner, and gloss—and I scrunched some mousse through my hair for good measure.
“It’s more than okay, beautiful. Are you ready for this?”
I smile up at him and bounce on my feet. “Yes!”
Keaton slips his hands into his pockets. It’s a move I’ve come to recognize as his way of holding back from touching me. Sometimes I want to tell him to just go for it, but I’m never quite sure I’m ready, so I bite my tongue.
God, I wish I could just make up my mind. But if I’ve learned anything, it’s not to force myself before I’m ready.
He rests his hand at the small of my back, guiding me to the passenger side and helping me in with a gentle touch.
As we drive, I clear my throat, nerves fluttering as I try to figure out how to bring up what’s on my mind.
“Is everything okay, Charlie?”
I sigh and push my head back against the seat, then roll it so that I’m looking at him. “Can we go over some things?”
“Of course,” he says, his brows drawing together.
“I’m ready for this—for us, for dating—but I still want to take it slow. No labels yet. I just want to take it one day at a time, you know?”
“Whatever makes this easier for you, Charlie.”
“I want more with you. I need you to know that. Just… go slow with me, give me time.” I thread my fingers through his and rest our joined hands on my thigh. “When the time is right, I want us to get tested together. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” he says, squeezing my hand. “I haven’t been with anyone, but I know you need that reassurance. So, when and if you’re ready, just make us appointments. Okay?”
