“Yeah?” If anything, he scooted farther away.
“I think I want to go to that event.” When he didn’t immediately reply, I added, “With you.”
“You don’t have to do that.” His voice was the auditory equivalent of a frown. “I told you. I was happy to help you out today. As a friend.”
“I might want to be more than friends,” I admitted.
“Oh.” Rory inhaled sharply. So much hope in that single syllable. “I meant what I said earlier. I’ll wait for you. After I graduate, I might end up working elsewhere if Jillian can’t find funding for a social work position. If you want to wait until we’re not coworkers to date, I can wait.”
“But you shouldn’t have to.” I reached for his hand in the dark. “And I don’t want to.”
“Oh good.” Using our joined hands as leverage, he finally inched more toward me, letting our shoulders touch and his foot nudge mine. “I’m in favor of that plan.”
“Good.” I rolled onto my side. It had been ages since I’d kissed someone and far longer since I’d cared so deeply about getting it right. I leaned in, giving him plenty of time to flee for the other side of the bed again, but he met me morethan halfway. I brushed my mouth over his, a soft, sweet introduction.
Rory hummed, a small, happy noise that also thrummed through me. He kissed me back, matching my restraint. We traded leisurely, lovely kisses, no hurry at all. After my blood sugar yo-yo of a day, I doubted sex was on the table for me, but kissing I could do. Besides, I wanted to draw this out, make all the little moments last.
“Rory?” I whispered against his lips. “Let’s make it our last first date.”
“Deal.”
Chapter Five
Rory
“You own a suit.” Marshall greeted me at his apartment door with a perplexed expression. I’d offered to drive, mainly to have an excuse to return here with him after the fundraiser.
“Did you think I was going to wear a Hawaiian shirt?” I scoffed. I did have quite a collection of colorful shirts that met the business casual standards of our office. But for tonight’s classy event, I’d chosen the gray suit I wore to my sister’s wedding with a peachy shirt and vintage silver and black checkerboard print tie. “Besides, I have to match the 1930s theme.”
“You look great.” Marshall locked the apartment door and followed me down the stairs. He’d worn his navy suit as requested, but he’d added a jaunty bowtie with a blue gradient print.
“Thanks. So do you.” I felt oddly stiff and formal. Since the elevator incident, we’d hung out a few more times for TV watching with a side of kissing and had also eaten lunch together.
“Is it weird that we’ve slept next to each other, but this is our first real date?” Marshall asked the same question running through my own head.
“A little,” I agreed, then brightened as I unlocked my car. “But I like doing things out of order. Like eating dessert first.”
“Which I can actually do tonight. In moderation.” Marshall grinned at me as he slid his long frame into the passenger seat.
“You got your new pump?” I returned his smile. He’d missed work yesterday to go into Portland for an appointment, and he’d been hoping the endocrinologist would have a solution for him.
“I did.” He patted his waistband area near his left hip. “And the doctor adjusted my overall medication regimen. She said work stress can play a role in blood sugar as well.”
“Next court date, I’m making sure you eat breakfast myself.” I wagged a finger at him. Despite my natural caretaker inclinations, I tried to keep any inquiries regarding Marshall’s health light and minimal.
“You better sleep over then, just in case,” he countered.
“I better.” My cheeks heated. I put the car in Drive to distract from the innuendo.
“Speaking of, how are your cats this evening?” Marshall kept up the flirty tone.
Oh.I was apparently doing more than simply dropping him off later.Win.
“Well-fed, watered, and could easily last until morning.”
“Good to know.” He winked at me as I stopped for a red light. “With my new pump and med tweak, I’m feeling more like myself again.”
“Excellent.” I waggled my eyebrows in return. He’d mentioned rather sheepishly the other night that his medications could sometimes make sex more difficult. I was plenty happy to wait until he felt better, but if that occasion was tonight, so much the better.
