“We keep finding ourselves in this situation,” I note softly.
Esme smooths her hair. “I’ve noticed.”
My head bows low, the back of my finger tracing a line along my chin. What in the world do we do now?
And she answers.
Esme points her finger at me with emotion flaring up, and now I’m certain that this is her defense mechanism. “How dare you think that at the snap of your fingers you can just order me around because you have some greedy thought. Let alone that I will just fall at your feet.”
I shouldn’t smirk because if she’s upset about this then she has a right, and I should respect that, except I can clearly see that it’s not the case, which is why I can prod her a little. “But you did. You agreed to be only mine, remember?”
Her facial expression strains, and she’s doing her best not to throttle me. She pivots to open my front door but pauses. “You are?—”
“The guy you were angry at because I didn’t fuck you then.”
Esme tries to inhale a calming breath. “Well… maybe I figured out that I deserve more and shouldn’t get caught in these… moments with you.” She turns without closing the door, and I follow and stop to lean against the doorframe to watch the back of Esme who seems in doubt about where she is going as she wrestles with herself at the bottom of my porch stairs.
“I mean, we haven’t even figured out if this is a benefits kind of thing or like, I don’t know.” She’s speaking to herself and has no idea that I’m listening. “But no, I’m in a situation where lust makes me do stupid yet delicious things that gives me an O or two. Esme, no. A gentleman, that’s what I want… or maybe I want a date.”
“Then go on a date with me,” I say unceremoniously. It isn’t even me throwing something out there without thought, it’s just what it seems to be—my thoughts finally agreeing with my actions.
My voice startles her, and she slowly turns on her heels to face me, now aware that I’ve been listening. I don’t flinch and remain in my spot with ankles and arms crossed and my shoulder against the door. “Go on a date with me,” I repeat because her eyes seem wary.
Her mouth opens but only small snippets of a croaked sound escape.
“Well? I don’t have all day to wait for an answer.” I pretend to be inconvenienced.
“A date?” Her eyes change brightness as she asks.
I scratch my cheek as I pretend to ponder. “Yeah… I believe I said that.”
I can’t read her, but then her demeanor changes to near sweet. “A date with me?”
Puffing my cheeks out, I thought we would get here sooner. “Yes, you. To clarify, you on a date, with me, but I need an answer?—”
“Yes.” She doesn’t give me a chance to finish.
We stare at each other, aware that we’ve taken another twist that seems we both wanted.
12
ESME
Giving myself the once-over again, I pucker my lips to get another layer of lip balm on. As much as I’m going to tease Keats for not picking me up at my door, I think it would be a little too classic and make the uneasiness of how we are approaching this date a little odder. Plus, he is coming home from work, and I will jump into his car at the curb. A sort of drive-thru but picking up a date instead.
I’m dressed in a casual cotton dress that maybe clings to my body, with sandals. I threw on hoop earrings and several bracelets. With no clue what we will be doing tonight, I’m still eager, and I open the door and quickly lock it behind me.
“Oh hello, dear.” Immediately I hear Mrs. Tiller call out.
Looking to the house next door, I see that she is watering her potted plants. “Keeping busy, I see. I guess we haven’t had a lot of rain recently.” Smiling, I make my way over to the property line for a little chitchat while I wait.
“You look all dolled up. A date?”
My smile stretches more, but I look away with the hopethat she doesn’t see me looking so timid. “Something like that.”
She turns her hose off. “With our dear neighbor?”
My face squinches. “Yeah. How did you know?”
