“Oh, no way. Uh-uh, not happening.” I shake my head. “Tomorrow, we shall spend our date organizing your house.”
He sits up on his elbows. “That’s not a date.”
“It is to me. I don’t think anything would make me happier than seeing you organize your shoes. Ooo, and we can go to the container store together, grab some food to go, and then just have a frenzy.”
“That doesn’t sound appealing.”
I walk over to him, straddle his lap, and place my hands on his chest. “I’ll wear a crop top, something where you can slip your hands around my bare skin whenever you get frustrated.”
His hands fall to my thighs. “I’m listening.”
“And you’ll be granted one solid make-out session, because frankly, I know I’ll be excited from all the organizing, and I’ll want some one-on-one lip time with you.”
He laughs. “Are you going to be mean about it? Or will you be gentle with my disorganized soul?”
I lean down so my mouth is inches from his. “Gentle. Always gentle.”
His hands smooth up my back, and then, in the blink of an eye, he flips me to my back and covers me with his strong, warm body. “You know I want to make you happy, but do you really want to spend our first date at my place organizing?”
“I do.”
He sighs heavily and then says, “Fine, but our next date is my idea. Got it?”
“I think that’s fair.” I grab him by the collar and pull him in close. He gently pushes my hair behind my ear, then cups my cheek before kissing me.
We spend the next half hour making out, and it’s everything I could ask for.
* * *
“Kelsey.”
“What?” I ask, spinning around, holding two bamboo containers that I plan on using for the protein bars in his pantry.
“What the hell are you wearing?”
I glance down at my joggers and black crop top shirt. “Clothes. I told you I’d wear a crop top for you.” I came to his place with a sweatshirt on, but all the organizing has made me hot, so I ditched the sweatshirt.
“Yes, but you’re not wearing a bra.”
Oh... yes, that’s correct.
I smile and say, “Oh, huh, must have forgotten it.”
His eyes narrow, and it’s quite comical.
“That’s not what we agreed upon.”
“Are you complaining about me not wearing a bra? Really?”
“Yes... you’re making me hard.”
“Control yourself. We have more organizing to do.”
“It’s been two hours. Can’t we take a break?”
“And where do you suppose we take a break?”
“Outside. You haven’t even seen my pool or backyard. We can stare at the stars, take a breath for a second.”
