Asmodeus: My day has been good. It's better now that I get to talk to you. Trust me, I wanted to come to the bakery and see you but I did have to work. I have a deadline that's coming up on a project that's important. Do you have any plans for Saturday?
Me: No, nothing planned for Saturday.
Asmodeus: Will you accompany me on a date? I would love to spend time with you. I definitely miss you. Texting is nice, but I love seeing your beautiful face.
Me: You're making me blush. I would love a date! What time?
Asmodeus: Hmm, does three in the afternoon work for you?
Me: That works great! See you then
My heart was about to break out of my chest from the excitement and nerves. Asmodeus asked me out on a date. We haven’t been talking long, and I knew logically I should be stepping on the brakes and slowing my roll, but something about him feltsurprisingly right. I know I just got out of a serious commitment a couple months ago. I know I just moved to a different state to start over again. But one of the problems I started to realize when you movedto a new state was that you knew no one, and it was really isolating.
I told myself that moving was about me and finding myself, but my heart was yelling at me to go for it.What if he was using me? Maybe it was a quick lay to him? What if it was? I mean it’s not like I need to be in another relationship already.
Thinking about him using me for sex, made my heart squeeze tight. I needed to get a grip and take some deep breaths or else I was going to go down the slippery slope of a panic attack.I haven’t even been on a date with him and I’m already thinking about sex and a relationship,I groan.Deep breath in, deep breath out. It’s okay to be excited, just don’t get your hopes up. I’m getting ahead of myself like I have done countless other times before. And what did we learn from those times? It never ended well.
9
Chapter 9 - Blair
Ispent about an hour in between trying to decide what I should wear for our date and dolling myself up by doing my hair and makeup. I decided to go with a long sleeve floral maxi dress with sandals. I kept my hair down, putting product in it to help give my lavender curls definition. I barely finished by the time he arrived.
He picked me up for our date right on time. When he stepped out of the truck, I was appraising him, staring at how handsome he looked. It was the first time I saw his hair down, the white strands glistening in the sun. He had on a pair of dark jeans that molded around his thighs and legs, with a plain white t-shirt hugging his upper body.God, he was drop-dead gorgeous. I swear he could be a model.He was quite the gentleman and had a bouquet of red roses for me. I put them in the house real quick to make sure they could go in a vase later on.
He drives a short distance, stopping at the Mark Twain house and museum. The museum location is 150 years old and includes three buildings. We spent our time theremeandering around until they were closing. It was amazing to see such a preserved building of such an influential writer.
“It’s pretty surprising to see the house in such good condition for how old it is,” blurting out what’s on my mind as we leave, the museum doors closing behind us.
“You think 150 years is old?” he scoffs at me, a smile on his face.
“If anyone lived to be 150, they would be in worse shape than this house and probably look like a dried-up prune. So yes, 150 is old,” I nod.
“Boy, do I have a surprise for you then.” He grabs my hand and pulls me along, back to his truck.
Pondering on his response, not sure where he is going with that. “Uh huh, and what’s that? Don’t tell me you’re some 500-year-old fae prince from another realm.”
His eyes glimmer in the sun as a deep and throaty chuckle leaves his lips. “Definitely not that. You will have to wait and find out,” giving me a wink before he does the motion to zip his lips and throw away the key. I roll my eyes and shake my head, trying to hide my grin.
Ten minutes later, we pull into the parking lot of a cute Italian restaurant next to the river. It has a small outdoor patio with warmers and a small dining room for guests. We decided to eat outside since it was such a lovely evening.
“How long have you lived in Hartford?” I ask after we get situated at our table.
“Hmm, that’s a good question. I think it’s been three years now. How are you liking Hartford?”
“It’s really lovely! I know most people wouldn’t pick this city, and it seems really random, but I wanted to stay on the East Coast; it called to me for some reason,” I shrug but anunknown emotion crosses his face and disappears.
“Well, I hope you fall in love with this place and stay long term,” his voice raspy. I nod, a small smile on my face. “If you don’t mind me asking, where did you live before?”
“I’ve lived in Cleveland my whole life actually. I was born and raised there. This is my first time living somewhere new,” I admit to him.
“What made you decide to move?” It was a simple question, but it made me slightly nervous.
A nervous chuckle escapes me. His eyes go wide. “I apologize if I asked an uncomfortable question. You don’t have to answer! Please don’t feel pressured to respond,” he blurts out.
My hands twist in my lap, picking at my finger. I shake my head, “no, it’s okay. That’s a valid question to ask. Basically I came home one day after work and my boyfriend was proposing to me.” I suddenly stopped speaking, but he didn’t push for more. I was collecting my thoughts together, figuring out what to say next.
I let out a breath, “Basically, I said no. I told him that I wasn’t in love with him and I wanted a love you find in romance books, the whole ‘fated mates’ ordeal,” I mumbled out the last few words. My cheeks heated from embarrassment at my confession. He looks at me thoughtfully, not with disgust or anger.
