And fuck was I in a bad mood about it last night. Instead of going to bed, I put on some workout clothes and went for a run. When I got back, I thought about checking on her, but by then, it was past midnight and I knew she’d be asleep.
What I would’ve given to tell her how I’ve been feeling about her, because, if anything, last night confirmed something for me. The night was perfect because I spent it with Kelsey. I loved hearing her moans of pleasure, her utter delight in the drag show, her obvious love of the beauty that is San Francisco Bay, and her clear enjoyment of being with me, too. So, I was about to tell her everything.
Huxley has the worst timing ever.
I wish I wasn’t that person who let small things affect my mood, I wish I could just let them roll off me and enjoy the moment, but that’s not me. It’s why I woke up this morning, ready to make it up to her. I had some bagels delivered, put together a fruit platter, and spent some time making bacon and eggs.
The last two days have been different, and I felt we’ve connected on another level. I hope she’s seen a different side of me, a side that appeals to her. I know she finds me attractive—and I don’t say that in a conceited way. I see the way she looks at me, but as she’s proven, attraction doesn’t mean everything to her. She wants a partner in this life, and unless I show her I can be that kind of man for her, I’m not sure she’ll ever give me a chance.
But I’m there. I can feel it. Last night, the night before... I can be the man she needs, and this morning, I plan on driving that home. The Mayor’s Ball is tonight and my plan is to spoil her with a trip to find a dress, to get her hair and makeup done, to make the entire night special, and when the moment is right, I’m going to ask her out. I’m going to ask her to give me a chance. I’m fucking nervous as shit, but I know if I don’t ask her, I’ll regret it.
I’m in the middle of constructing the breakfast sandwiches when she comes into the living room wearing a pair of tight black pants and a maroon tank top. Fuck, she’s so pretty, so pretty it’s painful. When she spots me in the kitchen again, she pauses and adjusts the earring she’s trying to put in.
“Morning,” I say to her, my heart pounding a mile a minute.
She smiles. “Good morning. Did you make me breakfast again?”
“I did.” Pride beams through me. “How do you feel about breakfast sandwiches?”
“I feel very positive about them.” She walks up to me, her perfume creating a goddamn vise-like grip around my chest, constricting it. “Are you feeling better from last night?”
“Yeah.” I reach out and take her hand in mine. So soft, so perfect for mine. “Sorry about the way I reacted. Huxley told me some bullshit that I have to deal with tonight and it put me in a bad mood. I shouldn’t have responded that way, especially since we were having such a good time.”
“What’s tonight—oh, you have to go to that mayor’s ball thing, right?”
“Yeah, I do. Fancy event with a bunch of people I have to talk to.” I press our palms together. “But, I was thinking—”
“Do you know what you’re wearing?” she asks. “A ball gown, I hope.” She wiggles her brows, causing me to chuckle.
“Yeah, it’s being dry-cleaned as we speak. I pick it up at noon.”
“You must show me pictures when I get back from my date,” she says as she releases my hand and walks over to the coffeemaker, grabbing herself a mug.
I can feel all the color completely drain out of my face, leaving me ashen, anguished... shook.
Date...
Fuck, she has that date set up with Dave Toney’s brother. I completely forgot about it. After the two nights we spent together, is she still going on that? Hell, a part of me thought that maybe she wouldn’t. That maybe she’d set him aside, give me a chance.
Evidently, that was a stupid assumption.What do you think, dickhead? You’re the one who has pushed that your time together is simply a short-term companionship.She wants long-term love. Fuck.
I grip the back of my neck, this new emotion bubbling up inside me, piercing my chest, constricting my lungs.
“Still, uh, still going on that date?” I stammer out, my mind whirling.
Oblivious to the multitude of emotions racing through me, she starts her coffee pod and turns toward me, her hands on the counter. “Yes, and I’m nervous. What should I wear?”
One of those hideous peasant dresses from Target.
Fuck!
Don’t wear anything, instead stay here with me.
Cancel the date.
See me... Kelsey.
Fucking see me.
