The poor guy blinked.
“The roof is not part of the restaurant, sir.”
I gave him my most confident smile, the one I usually saved for getting out of parking tickets.
“Just let your manager know Chris Jones needs two salmon and a bottle of wine served on the roof.”
The server looked like he was weighing whether his pay grade covered this level of weirdness, but I didn’t wait for his answer. I got up and turned to Jules, who was trying—and failing— not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
10
JULES
We walked up the stairwell, finally leaving the noise and fancy chaos of the restaurant behind. I carried my shoes in one hand, feeling the cool concrete under my feet as we climbed. Every once in a while, I’d glance back at Chris. He was trying to hide it, but he looked a little winded.
Maybe the rooftop idea was too ambitious for a first date. But the elegant, over-the-top atmosphere of that place had made me feel even more self-conscious than usual. I didn’t need all that tonight. I wanted to know this man beside me, to see if he was anything like the Chris I’d conjured up in my head over the years.
“Why are we going to the rooftop again?” He asked.
I shot him a grin over my shoulder.
“Beautiful view, privacy, and good company. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I was hoping for, you know, a chair or two to be included.”
I stopped at the rooftop door, turning back to him.
“What’s the fun in life if you don’t break the script of ‘normal’ once in a while?”
I waited as he climbed the last step and stopped in front of me.So close. Close enough that every time I breathed in, my breasts brushed him, and it was like a little spark of electricity shot straight through me. For a second, his eyes dropped to my lips, and my stomach flipped.
Was he about tokissme?
He didn’t. Instead, he lifted a hand and brushed his fingers against my cheek.
“You’re not like other women, are you?”
I tilted my head, trying not to let him see how my pulse was racing.
“Don’t sexualize my weirdness.” I rolled my eyes. And with that, I pushed open the door, finally stepping out onto the rooftop.
The view before us was like something out of a postcard. City lights twinkled as far as we could see, and there was nothing but open air between us and the sky. As Chris scanned the place for somewhere to sit, I tipped my head back, taking in the full moon’s glow. The sky was mostly clear, something rare and magical for the city.
“Full moon. Beautiful.” He said.
“See?” I threw him a smirk. “What meal doesn’t taste better under the moonlight?”
He laughed and shook his head.
“The meal that gets cold on the windy rooftop.”
“Hmm… grumpy.” I gave him an exaggerated scowl.
I closed my eyes for a second, letting the moonlight wash over me. Something about the moon had put me at ease since I was a kid, when I used to imagine I lived up there, floating around and befriending aliens. It was silly, but somehow, the same calm washed over me now.
When I opened my eyes, Chris was watching me.
“You look better now. More comfortable.” He was right. I did feel better. I loved order and routine, but sometimes, stepping out felt freeing.
