He walked me to my apartment complex door but stopped there, “This was just the first date.”
“Yes,” I agreed.
“But I’m saying goodnight here, Ellie,” his voice was that low rumbling tone I was addicted to. “Neither one of us is ready for what would happen if I followed you upstairs tonight.”
Realizing what that meant I blushed a deep red, and breathed, “Ok.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promised and then kissed me long and hard enough that I wouldn’t be able to think of anything else tonight but what it would have meant if he followed me upstairs.
“Thank you for tonight.”
He kissed me again, shorter this time but just as passionately as all the times before.
“Ok, I’m going. Goodnight, Ellie.” Another long, hard kiss.
“Good night, Fin,” and then I initiated this time.
We stood there for several more minutes kissing. He had his way with my mouth and my neck and my ears so that when he finally walked to his car my mouth was swollen, my vision hazy and my brain imagining every single thing those kisses promised.
Best first date in the history of first dates.
But tomorrow we would go back to the way things were or I would drown in these feelings.
And just as much as I wasn’t ready for Fin to come upstairs with me, I wasn’t ready for that either.
