“You look like a smitten kitten.” She smirks at me, wiggling her eyebrows. “Tell me everything.” She pats a seat next to her and lifts the edge of the blanket for me to join her so I could spill my guts.
Dropping down onto the couch beside her, I kick off my Converse and pull my knees under me as I wrap myself up in her blanket. Blowing out a breath, I try to organize my thoughts.
“It was…amazing and wonderful and sweet. It was kind of a re-do of our first date, but so much better. We got to make our meal with the chef, even made the pasta noodles from scratch and everything. We had a glass of wine with dinner and talked, not about us but about normal things. He even asked the same stupid mundane questions that he asked on our first date to show that he remembered it as clearly as I do.”
Her eyes are practically sparkling with excitement now. I can tell she's ready to say she knew things would work out, but I'm not ready to hear it, so I continue, "He asked about work and how things are going, and he suggested I should convince everyone at the studio to do a show of our art work at the shop.
"He was genuinely interested and invested in my future." Her eyes widened a little with interest and admiration, I think.
“He did good then, right? You’re happy? Even though you’re home before midnight like freaking Cinderella?” She grins, nudging me playfully with her elbow.
"Yeah, tonight was incredible, more than I ever could have imagined. But I can't shake the feeling that this could all be for show. That he can't sustain this level of attentiveness with me. What if he lures me back, and then three months down the line, another big case comes up, and I'm pushed to the backburner again. It’s all…too good to be true.”
The insecurities creep on me again. I can’t fall for it so easily. One good night and one mind-blowing kiss doesn’t correct all the wrong between us.
CHAPTER 13
RYAN
Over the next week, Drew keeps bringing coffee by the shop for us in the mornings, and Ash always comes by with lunch. Every evening, he knocks on the door to Nyx's apartment at seven P.M. sharp.
Always at the same time. He's never late and always has a broad smile plastered across his handsome face like he's even more grateful every day that I'm still going along with that plan of wooing me or whatever he's calling this.
So far, we have been bowling- I won- Axe throwing, - Drew won - and Karaoke night at JACKS was a blast. Since I was banned from getting up on stage, I couldn’t let these poor people endure Drew’s singing. We just decided to judge the vocal talents of the crowd in the bar while knocking back shots of tequila to numb the pain in our ears, so I guess neither of us won that round.
I haven't been this happy for ages. I'm practically bouncing out of bed in the mornings, knowing he will be at the studio waiting for me with coffee and a good morning kiss. I get that he can't deliver coffee every morning like this forever.
Still, I'm going to enjoy the hell out of it while I can, and when he does eventually have to stop, maybe I'll be the one who brings him a cup of coffee to his office, or maybe I'll be making the coffee before he leaves for work.
That thought stops me in my tracks for a second. Am I already considering moving back in with him? With the way I'm thinking about it, it's a forgone conclusion. Maybe it is, but not yet. I like how things are now. Well, I like mostly how things are now. There is definitely something I would change.
Like the fact we still haven’t done anything more than kissing. Very hot kissing but still just kissing. Not even any over the clothes action. Nyx already told the guys at the shop about my new nickname.
Now, they can't wait to rush outside when I pull up every morning to check if my car has turned into a pumpkin, but also to see if Drew or Prince Charming, as they are now calling him, has arrived with coffee and treats for everybody. I'm pretty sure they will be more bummed when that little gesture stops than I will be—spoiled assholes.
With every day that passes, my resolve for this breakup is slowly fading. Drew is consistently there, and consistently attentive, romantic, and sweet. Even his texting game leveled up.
Where before I would have sat on read for maybe hours or days, now he responds almost immediately, and his good morning and good night texts are starting to become what I live for. These are the things I fear will end if he gets super busy again.
From what he's told me, things at work are quiet for now while he settles into his new role and gets to know his new clients, so he has time to treat me like the princess the guys now think I am. I want this second chance for us, and I love spending time with Drew. Only time will tell if this is going to be the new normal for us or if he will slip back into his workaholic ways.
So far, we've ended every date with a hot make-out session in his car or next to it. And every night, I get closer and closer to just Bruce Almighty-ing my clothes right off and demanding he fuck me, but if I so much as try to slide my hand over his hard cock, he shakes his head and tells me we aren't ready.
I have no idea what he’s talking about. I can see how fucking ready he is, and I feel how fucking ready I am, but he won’t budge on it.
Everything feels so much more intense this time around. The first time felt like a hot spring. Now… It's a damn volcano.
Just thinking about the first time Drew fucked me has me uncomfortably hard in my pants as I sit facing him at a Mexican restaurant. My eyes drift over his body, and a shiver runs down my spine. He looks so fucking good in jeans and a dark green sweater. Even the dorky sombrero hat the server put on his head isn’t detracting from his hotness.
Without my permission, my dick twitches in my jeans like it's trying to burst through the denim to get to him.…yeah, it's definitely time. I'm more than ready. Check, please.
DREW
I opened the restaurant door for a seemingly impatient Ryan once we cleared the check. He's practically vibrating with energy now. It's like he has a secret or knows something I don't. We head back to my car, and he's almost bouncing on his feet, but before I can unlock it, he crowds in behind me, resting his hands on my hips, and leans against me to brush his lips against the back of my neck.
"You okay, Ryan?" I ask curiously, but I'm sure he can hear the smirk on my face. He mumbles something into my neck. Something that sounds like you're killing me here. "What was that? I can't hear you, Sweetheart," I ask just to make him say it again.
"Uhm," he hesitates, but I wait. If he wants what I think he wants, I need his words loud and clear.
