I mean, hecould, because I’d let him do anything he wanted to, but he’s anti-special treatment.
His hair is much longer on the top than it was a few weeks ago, and he’s styled it so it’s brushed back from his face. The rim of his glasses rests on those cheekbones that make my knees weak, and his eyes are bright behind the lenses. He’s so achingly beautiful, I can’t stop myself from walking straight toward him and placing my lips against his.
He kisses me back, his hands flying to my waist as a small moan escapes.
I’m smiling as I pull back.
“Keep making those sounds, and dinner will have to wait.” I give him one last peck on the lips before removing my jacket and throwing it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “Did you decide where you want to go?”
“I don’t really know how to pick…for like a date,” he says. “In the spirit of communicating about everything, I’m worried I’ll pick someplace too cheap and you won’t like the food, or it’ll be too expensive, and youstillwon’t like the food.”
I understand his hesitance. I hate it, but I understand it. I’m sure Derek blamed him for a lot of things that were never his fault, and that’s a mentality that’s hard to break free of.
“Tell you what. How about I pick tonight, and while we’re at dinner, we’ll cover all our likes and dislikes, so we know which places to avoid?”
“Sounds like a plan,” he says.
“Great. I’ll go change.”
Ten minutes later, I come back into the living room wearing a navy sweater and slim-fit khaki pants with brown boots.
“So, I’m thinking the Japanese steakhouse,” I say.
Zeke’s bright eyes darken immediately as his gaze sweeps over me, heating my blood.
Licking his lips, he replies, “You’re sure we have to go out at all?”
I’ve never been in a relationship where my partner wants me as much as I want them, and I’m tempted to stay home and peel every layer off us both. Except Zeke deserves this. He deserves to be taken out and to experience a normal, healthy relationship.
It doesn’t matter that we got our shit together less than forty-eight hours ago; this has been building for a while.
“Yes,” I force myself to say. “It’ll be nice. And the wait will make the reward that much better.”
I’m not actually sure that’s true, but I’m trying to convince myself that it is, so I actually leave the house.
After helping Zeke into his coat, I hold the door open for him and kiss him once more just because I can.
Before backing out of the garage, I hand Zeke my phone.
“Why don’t you DJ? The password is one-two-one-two.”
He takes the phone slowly.
“You just want me to open your phone and scroll through your stuff?” he asks, like it’s the most insane idea he’s ever heard.
“Yeah, I have nothing to hide. Not anymore, at least,” I tease. “And not from you.”
“Same,” he says quickly before changing the subject. “Okay, let’s see what you played last.” His head whips to me when the sultry French lyrics of Indila’s songDernière Dansering through the SUV.
“You know Indila?” he asks, taken aback, making me smile.
“Youknow Indila?” I fire back.
“I was a French aristocrat in a play once. I listened to a lot of her stuff to get into the role.”
“I would have loved to have seen that. I think you’d make a hot aristocrat. Have you decided if you’re going to audition for that other play?” I ask, realizing I haven’t heard him mention it since he told me he’d been asked to audition.
“Yeah, I think I’m going to pass. That theater and those people…it’s not the same as it was.”
