Our glasses clink. My drink is somewhat smoky, but the notes of strawberry make it easy to go down. “What’s in this again?”
“It’s mezcal.”
“I honestly can’t tell there’s alcohol in it.”
“That’s how you know it’s good,” he says with a smirk. He tips his glass to the man behind the bar. “You’d be hard-pressed to find a better bartender than Arthur here.”
“So you come here a lot?”
“It’s my favorite bar in all of Chicago.” He leans forward. “I do my best to gatekeep this place, so let’s keep this a little secret between us.” He winks at me. “I like this shirt you’re wearing. What event are you coming from?”
“Just some party in Hyde Park. But I didn’t stay very long.”
“Well, I’m glad you ended up here,” he says.
“Yeah. I’m glad you texted me.”
He holds up his glass again. “Cheers to us.”
We chat for a while, enjoying our drinks. Nick asks endless questions about me. The schools I’m applying to, the major I’m interested in, where I see myself in ten years. “Goldman Sachs would be a dream,” I say as seriously as possible, making him laugh hysterically. I enjoy his story about losing his phone in Aspen during his annual ski trip in November. Every time I’m halfway through my drink, he orders me another one. The attention feels good, especially from someone like Nick. I’m honestly having a great night, even though my thoughts are getting fuzzy. Nick never takes his eyes off me, always asking if I need anything else. Maybe I was too quick to judge him last time. He makes me feel more special than Christian did.
About an hour later, Nick calls for the check. The bartender brings out a rose macaron, which he tells us is on the house. Nick offers me the first bite, then pops the other half into his mouth. I check the time on my phone. It’s almost eleven thirty now. The restaurant looks like it’s closing soon.
“Why don’t we head back to my place,” Nick suggests.
“Do you live around here?”
“Only a block away.”
“Oh, that’s convenient,” I say. Almost like he planned it.
I wasn’t expecting to stay out this long. I should probably take the next train home, especially when my phone battery isrunning low. But I don’t want the night to end, either. Maybe I could hang out for another hour. I don’t realize how tipsy I am until I rise from my chair. Thankfully, Nick is there to walk me to the door. The moment we step outside, I notice something in the air.
“It’s snowing,” I say.
“Better hurry to my place for cover.”
Nick lives in a townhouse on Burling Street. I follow him up the steps as he unlocks the door with a passcode. The place is beautifully decorated with modern furniture. It’s nowhere near the size of Christian’s, but you could definitely host a big party. Especially with the built-in speakers on the wall. Nick disappears into the kitchen as I take a seat on the living room sofa. A moment later, he returns with two glasses of wine.
“One for you,” he says.
“I’m not really a wine person.”
“It’s a Malbec. You’ll like this one.”
I take the glass, despite my better judgment. Nick puts on some music and sits close to me on the sofa. I can see the snow falling outside the window. It’s nice to be out of the cold. One touch of his phone turns on the electric fireplace. We talk for a while, adding songs to a playlist he starts for me. Nick tells me about his art pieces, most of which were gifted to him. He points to the painting behind us. “That was done by this artist I met in Verona a few summers ago.”
“He just gave it to you?”
“I might have paid in other ways,” he says through a smirk.
We both chuckle at this. Nick rests his arm behind thesofa, inching closer to me. My face feels warm from the wine. Maybe I’ve had enough for tonight. I set the glass down on the coffee table. Then I lean back, feeling his arm around my shoulder. We look at each other. I can’t deny how handsome he is, especially with those blue eyes. Nick runs a hand along my neck and whispers, “I love how soft your skin is.”
“Thanks…” I breathe.
A smile rises across his face. Then he leans in to kiss me. His lips are sweet from the wine. I close my eyes for a moment, letting his hands pull me into him. I feel a rush of blood moving through me, the warmth of his body. Then his hands move down farther, slowly lifting my shirt… But I stop him there.
He looks at me. “What’s the matter?”
