“Dinner? My treat,” I offer, hoping to take her mind off her worries, and not wanting to let her out of my sight yet.
“Sure.”
“Any place you’ve been wanting to go?” I ask.
“Oh my gosh, there’s that new place over on Oak down by the water. I heard their desserts are to die for.” Raya is practically bouncing in my lap and if she doesn’t stop, we’re going to have problems going anywhere respectable.
Her eyes turn to mine, wider than they were a moment ago, pleading and excited and hopeful. Does she seriously think I’d deny her anything at this point?
“Perfect. I’ll call for reservations. Do you want time to change, or should we head over there now?”
“Ummm, let me change first. My place is close so we can drop our stuff there if you want, and then walk down?”
“Perfect.”
I pull up the restaurant on my phone as I step outside to call, making a reservation for an hour from now. It gives us time for a leisurely stroll by the river, hot chocolate in hand, before we dump our cups and head inside.
After we’re seated and our drinks arrive, Raya holds her glass up for a toast.
“To hopeful plans and good food,” Raya says.
“To you, my sunshine,” I reply, clinking my glass to hers and taking a sip as her cheeks turn a delicious shade of pink.
I dropRaya off at her apartment after dinner. She tries to protest, but when she started yawning while forking chocolate cake into her mouth, I decided it was going to be an early night. We spend all day Friday working separately—me on my plan to oust Claude, Estelle, and Chadwick from PNCG, and Raya on her current client assignment—then she surprises meby showing up on my doorstep with an overnight bag. I waste no time pulling her inside and latching my lips to hers, tossing her bag to the side and relishing her giggle as it cascades through me. I ignore Milton’s protest at Raya not acknowledging him, too greedy for her myself.
We drown our worries in each other’s bodies, indulging in a night of slick skin on skin, lips and tongues endlessly tasting each other, and I end up sleeping better than I have all week.
Saturday morning, she invites me to her parents for family brunch the next day. It feels like things are moving forward, and thinking about what this could mean for me, that maybe I could have her, keep her—for real, forever—causes sweat to break out on my forehead and my heart to race.
Raya is all I’ve ever wanted, but avoided dreaming or hoping for. I never thought there’d be a day when I’d meet someone who would accept me for who I am, despite my terrible family, my horrible past, and yet here she is. Not only accepting me, but somehow burrowing her way deep into my dark heart and fractured soul so she’s always on my mind. I can’t stop thinking about her, obsessing over her. I carry her with me every moment of every day.
It’s infuriating when I have very delicate, dangerous, specific goals I’m trying to accomplish.
“What’s that scowl for?” Raya skips over to where I’m leaning back in a chair at my kitchen table, tilting her head and running her soft fingers over the crease between my eyebrows like she can erase it. I roll my eyes internally, because she basically can. One look and I’m done for.
I snake my arms around her waist and pull her into my lap, receiving a laughing shriek as she falls and burrows into me.
“What would you like to do with the rest of your Saturday?” I nip at her ear, relishing the slight uptick in her heart beat.
“Ugh,” she sighs. “I should head back to my place. I needto do laundry and it’s been too long since I’ve spent quality time with Reverie.”
My heart pangs, and helpless that I am, I almost offer to come over and do her laundry for her just so I can stay by her side and soak in her presence. I know she likes her space though, so I bite my tongue and squeeze her tighter for a moment instead before letting go.
“Alright, let’s get to it then. I suppose I’ll do some laundry while you’re gone too.”
I might as well be productive so I can ravish her when I get my hands on her again later.
Raya fidgets in the car as I drive her back to her apartment, and I glance at her from the corner of my eye, waiting for her to speak whatever is on her mind. She does, eventually.
“So, I was kind of thinking.”
“Mhm?”
I keep my eyes on the road and school my face to a neutral, hopefully non-threatening expression as she glances at me.
“Well. I know I’ve been spending a lot more time at your place.”
Poor thing, I hate seeing her nervous. I have an idea where this might be going, if she’s been thinking the same as me, so I suppose I can help her out.
