Chase: I’m giving you so much grief tonight about this. You might even need a spanking.
Oh, shit. Was he into spanking? Or bondage? Or kinky stuff? I was more vanilla than all the beans in France. I didn’t even know how to respond. Apparently my butt cheeks did because they tingled at the thought. I was so screwed.
Me: I look forward to it. Dinner I mean. Not the spanking. Although . . .
Chase: I should get back to work. Lunch meeting in 20. I’ll pick you up at 6?
Me: I’ll be ready.
Chase: Can’t wait to see you.
By 3 p.m. I’d tried on four different shirts (settled on the blue one Priya recommended), done something with my hair (used the product, not the wholebottle), cleaned the apartment (Why? Chase wasn’t coming inside. But I cleaned anyway.), checked my phone forty-seven times, and paced enough that I could have walked to his office and back.
There was a knock on the door.
I opened it, and there was Chase, wearing dark jeans, a button-down that was nicer than anything I owned, and that smile that made my stomach flip.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” I managed.
“You look amazing.”
“You, too.”
We stood there for a second, just smiling at each other like teenage idiots.
“Ready?” Chase asked.
I grabbed my jacket from the hook by the door. Tampa had decided it needed one day of winter. The temps were in the upper fifties.
“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 33
Chase
Ipulled up in front of Finn’s apartment at exactly 5:59 p.m.
Not 6:00. Not 6:01. 5:59.
Because I was the kind of person now who arrived early to dates and sat in his car taking deep breaths like a teenager picking up his prom date.
I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror one more time, sucked in a deep breath, and climbed out of the car.
I knocked on the door at six o’clock . . . and fifty-two seconds.
Yes, I checked, because, fuck me, I just did.
Finn opened the door, and whatever nervous energy I’d been carrying evaporated.
He looked . . . God, he looked beautiful. The blue shirt he wore made his eyes even brighter than usual, and his auburn hair seemed somehow more coppery than I remembered.
And that smile—dear God.
“Hi,” I said, sounding like an idiot.
“Hi.” His smile widened.
