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Eight Dates With Romance: An S. L. Scott Valentine's Day Collection

Page 6

by S. L. Scott


  After eating, she finished her beer and vowed to not to drink that stuff again. Yuck!

  “Want another beer?”

  “Sure, why not?” she responded while wondering who took over her body and when they started liking beer so much? Deep down, as usual by never admitting it to herself, she knew it wasn’t about the beer, but being with him here.

  She stood up, wanting to explore—technically to snoop around. She walked to his desk, which was very organized, and then burst out laughing when she spotted a coffee mug filled with various yellow highlighters.

  “What?” he asked with a nervous edge to his tone.

  “I’m laughing at your collection of highlighters. You might want to seek help for that. You definitely have a problem.” She was teasing him.

  “I have a problem? What about your blue and black ink obsession? You want to share that one with me or seek a professional’s opinion first?” He laughed.

  She stood there and crossed her arms across her chest, feeling defensive. “I have a very justifiable reason for my ink preferences.” Distracted by a car’s horn, she turned and looked out the window at the lights, traffic, and the people below. She was surprised how much street noise she heard from his apartment. “Do you hear everything here?”

  “Pretty much. I could never live in the country. I think the silence would drive me mad.” He stood back up and started cleaning the mess by throwing away the trash.

  When she looked around again, she noticed his tidiness throughout the space. “You are very neat.”

  “I try to be clean.” He tried to hide the dirty dishes that remained from yesterday by stashing them in the small oven that had broken over a month ago and the landlord kept putting off to fix. “With a place this small, one mess can wreak havoc. It’s taken me many years to become better organized.”

  The bed was the last remaining corner of the room unexplored. She saw an old tattered book on his night table and his bed was neat, made up with his pillow tucked under the blanket and hidden from view. She turned back to the television not sure if she was allowed to sit in this area. An old black and white movie was starting and she said, “I love this movie. I haven’t seen it in ages.”

  “Let’s watch it then.” He liked her enthusiasm and jumped at the opportunity.

  She started to sit on the floor in front of the bed, but William quickly grabbed Evie’s arm and pulled her up. “You can sit on the bed if you’d like. It will be more comfortable up here.”

  The gesture made her smile. “Thanks.” Leaning down, she took her shoes off, and scooted until her back rested against the wall. He slid onto the bed next to her, but kept a safe distance between them. During the movie, he watched her, without her knowledge, of course, as she drank from the beer can then looked around to find a place to set it. It was times like these he wished he had a full kitchen and not this make shift kitchenette. He would have rather offered her a clean glass instead of having her drink from a dirty can, but the few he had were dirty, making him feel bad.

  He reached over and took the beer from her. “I’ll keep it over here.” He set it on the little table sort of surprised at how full it was still. She obviously didn’t care for the beer. Wine, yes, I should keep wine on hand, but then that would require me to store wine glasses and where would those go? He rolled his eyes and focused back on the movie.

  Evie’s body was relaxed after the carb-loading, beer, and the comfy bed she was now resting on. She glanced over at William and adjusted her body with her hand dipping into the divided space.

  He felt her presence as the gap between them tightened and it made him want to touch her hand, to hold it, and maybe if he was so bold, to kiss it. If he followed his heart, he would kiss her on her mouth as he pulled her into his arms and flipped her under his body. A loud gulp sounded from him. She cleared her throat not aware of his sordid thoughts as he settled his attention back on the movie.

  Another hour passed before she moved her body forward and stood up. “I should get going. I’m sure you’re tired from work and—”

  “You don’t have to go. We could do something else?” The words rushed from his mouth as he tried to think of a way to keep her there.

  She didn’t want to go, but knew she should. Evie took a deep breath, slowly releasing it before speaking again. “Thanks, but I do need to get home.

  “I’ll walk you back. It’s getting late.”

  “No, it’s fine. I can catch a cab.”

  “It’s a nice night. I’d like to walk you home, Evie,” he said in a lowered, sexier than usual voice, and her body weakened a little with her knees succumbing to the difference in tone.

  “Well, since … you … put it like that.” Her words were staggered and a bit breathless. “I’d like that, too.” She reached for her bag, but William hurried over and picked it up before she had a chance. “Thank you.”

  He followed her out the door and locked it before heading down the stairs and out the building’s main entrance to the street. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he asked, “Which way?”

  “Umm.” She thought, trying to figure out her location in the city. “I think it’s this way, back closer to the way we came.” She looked over at him for confirmation though he didn’t have any idea where she lived. When she began walking, she gave him a shy smile when he walked close to her. “So, William Ryder, tell me about yourself.”

  She scooted even closer to him, their arms now touching, to let a couple pass on her left. His hand automatically pressed against her lower back to direct her to the safety of his side.

  “There’s a loaded question. What do I want to tell you versus what is the right thing to tell you? Very tricky indeed.” He smirked, attempting to keep his eyes forward.

  “Wow, this sounds promising.” She contemplated the options by rubbing her chin playfully. “Let me decide. Okay, I want you to tell me something you’d tell me if I’d known you longer.”

  “All right. Let me seeeee.” He laughed quietly and shook his head. “I’m definitely not telling you that!” He saw her sincere, happy eyes waiting, wanting to be in on his secret. “Okay, I’ll share.” It didn’t take much for him to confess to her. “I like when girls wear skirts,” he said, eyeing hers and seeing a blush wash across her face as she caught his meaning. “But, I also like when girls can wear jeans and a T-shirt and feel confident.” He knew that was a cop-out answer, but she responded well to his insight, and decided to really open up, hoping he didn’t scare her off with his honesty. “Sometimes my local bartender gives me free drinks when I’m too broke to buy one. And, sometimes when I get lonely, I escape into my books.”

  “I do that,” she said softly, cutting in. “Sometimes, I’ll be at a party surrounded by friends and family and I feel completely alone, like I blend into the furniture and disappear.” She pulled her cardigan tighter to her body and looked at the ground while she walked.

  William nudged her with his arm. “I don’t know how you could ever blend into a crowd much less the furniture. I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He picked up his pace, embarrassed he’d said that out loud for her to hear.

  She stopped in astonishment and her lips parted at the sweetest words she had ever heard.

  He realized she wasn’t next to him and turned around. She was standing five or more feet behind him on the sidewalk. Smiling, he said, “Come on. Don’t make me feel more embarrassed than I already do.”

  She caught up to him, smiling from ear to ear, laughing and prodding. “So you think I’m beautiful?”

  Rolling his eyes, he laughed again. “I knew I shouldn’t have said that the second after I said it.”

  “Isn’t the phrase ‘the second I said it?’ ” she asked, cocking her head to the side still enjoying his admission.

  “Yes, but I didn’t regret it when I said it. I regretted saying it the second I realized I’d said too much.”

  Evie took his hand without thinking. “It wasn’t too much! It w
as very sweet and I think the nicest thing someone’s ever said to me. Thank you for sharing that. Never regret a true emotion.” She held onto his hand, realizing how good it felt against hers and continued walking.

  Her words struck his heart as he repeated them in his head, “Never regret a true emotion.” Living by her words and being honest with himself, he knew that was the moment he started falling in love with her.

  William’s hands were warm and large, a little rough, but his grasp on hers was tender. When they turned the corner to her block and saw the street sign, he hesitated.

  “What?” she asked, not sure why he stopped.

  He shook his head while closing his eyes as reality sank in.

  She dropped his hand in concern, worried about what happened to change his mood so unexpectedly. “What is it, William?”

  They moved closer to the nearest building to talk. Once they were out of the pedestrian traffic, he explained. “I was hoping you lived on another street, like one or two down from this one.”

  Evie didn’t understand why he would wish this. The street she grew up on was beautiful compared to most in the city. The large trees sparkled with tiny white lights lining the avenue for five or more blocks. All the doormen looked regal in their uniforms and the sidewalks and street were clean compared to most Manhattan streets. She was baffled by his reaction as if these weren’t good things.

  He looked over his shoulder then leaned toward her and whispered, “I was hoping you were more middle class, that’s all.”

  “Oh.” This, she didn’t expect. He didn’t like that she came from money, but she wanted to know why. “Um, is this all right?”

  “I just confessed to you that sometimes I bum drinks because I can’t afford them. I … I know a million things to do on the cheap in Manhattan out of survival, not just for kicks. I wish I could say I can afford nice restaurants and opera tickets, but I can’t. You should know this now.” He hated feeling this way. He wished he could give the city to her on a silver platter, but he couldn’t and by looking around her street, that’s what she’s used to.

  Uncomfortable, he leaned back against the wall waiting for her to tell him their friendship, whatever this was they were to each other, was over. He expected as much. He didn’t know rich people, but he knew they tended to stick to their own kind. He watched as Evie shifted in front of him looking down at her shoes and as she tucked her hair behind her ear in quiet contemplation, he wished she would say something. He also wished he could hold her hand again like they did a few minutes ago before fate deemed it necessary to interfere. Suddenly, he was very aware of all the things he’d wished he had done before this moment, before the realities of their different worlds collided.

  Her voice broke into his pity party, and she lifted her chin, and said, “I don’t like the opera and you can afford nice restaurants. I like Pizzeria La Cucina and you introduced me to it.”

  “It’s just a pizza place—” he said.

  “I don’t care about that stuff!” Evie professed more than she was comfortable doing because she didn’t want their friendship to end over money. Money seemed to control every other aspect of her life, but it had never played a part in their relationship. Little things had led them to where they were, what they were in this moment, and she loved that too much to let it go. “I like you, William. I can’t take away my parents—my family’s money, but I’ve done all those things you say you can’t afford and I don’t need those things. I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together.”

  He stepped forward, pulling her against his chest and buried his nose into her hair again, something he couldn’t get enough of. His strong arms slid around her body and held her close. His first thought was she smelled delectable. His second was that she wanted to spend more time with him despite their differences. Holding her tight, he hoped it showed her how much he wanted to be with her as well.

  Enjoying the smell of him, she rested her cheek on his chest. As she wrapped her arms around his body, she worked on the adjectives that best described his smell to her, but the only one she could think of was delicious. She rolled her eyes at her thoughts, knowing she sounded silly, but it was true; maybe delectable worked also, but either way, he smelled really good.

  He pulled back, breaking their embrace, but took her hands and clasped them together with his. “Do you still want to slum it with me on Monday?”

  “I definitely want to slum it with you on Monday if you won’t hold all of this, ” she asked, pointing behind her, “against me?”

  “You can’t help that you’re rich, so I won’t hold it against you.” They both laughed, and then he said, “I’m gonna go from here if that’s all right. I think you’ve learned more about me than you should have at this stage in our relationship.” He handed her bag back to her and shoved his hands into his pockets as she pulled her sweater closer to her body once again for warmth. “Goodnight, Evie.”

  “Goodnight, William.”

  Chapter Eight

  A Prior Engagement continuned…

  Sunday afternoon William rode down Park Avenue, one of the wealthiest streets in Manhattan. His mind wasn’t on the impressive buildings on either side of the tree-lined street, but on Evie—the pretty girl who lived on it.

  His body was weary today and he checked his watch. Another four hours and he could collapse into bed and sleep some more. Last night, he was restless with thoughts of Evie. Memories of the feel of her hand in his, and a few images of her lying in his bed wearing nothing but that freed bird, kept him from deep sleep.

  William also got whiffs of her perfume every now and then and his whole body seemed to react to it, keeping him more awake than he liked. He already knew that girl was going to drive him crazy, so he pushed his face into his pillow, accepting that fact and fell asleep.

  The morning came too fast, and he was tired as he started his shift. While delivering packages throughout the city, he remembered how he had vowed never to be ashamed of his roots. It was easy to lie in Manhattan because everyone seemed to be from somewhere else, but he was always proud to claim Staten Island as his home and that wasn’t going to change now. He would show her his roots and hope she accepted him.

  When she walked into Professor Lang’s class on Monday, she was giddy and a little goofy, very un-Everleigh like, feeling more Evie these days. She found a seat and started to gnaw anxiously on her pen.

  William walked in, squeezing ahead of slower students anxious to find Evie. When he spotted her, he took the stairs by two and shuffled down the row. Sitting down next to her, he leaned over, and said, “I was looking forward to seeing you.” His voice was a whisper making sure no one else was listening. “But even more to tonight.”

  “Me too.” She giggled, but kept her voice low.

  William saw the chewed pen resting against her bottom lip, and felt the need to remark. “I thought you of all people had more respect for pens than that.”

  He was staring with a raised eyebrow, which made her remove the pen and look at it. “Oh this? I was nervous … or excited, maybe a little anxious.” She set the pen down on her notebook and looked at her hands in her lap instead, knotting her fingers together to distract her mind from the pen.

  “I hope that’s because of me.”

  Every hair on her neck stood on end and she tried to keep from kissing him right there in the middle of Professor Lang’s British Literature for Majors class. She took a shallow breath trying to regain her composure while he leaned back, sliding down in his seat to get comfortable. She didn’t say anything because she didn’t need to. They both already knew the answer.

  Evie didn’t take as many notes as usual and William noticed she had random doodles across the pad in between the notes she was taking. His hand wandered over to her pad and he wrote, a little distracted today? She was embarrassed and couldn’t hide her emotions from him. She felt so immature and frustrated that she shut her notebook and sat back to listen to the professor.

  William sa
w that he either embarrassed or annoyed her. He wasn’t trying to do that at all. He thought it was cute she couldn’t hide her emotions. He touched her forearm where others couldn’t see. “I’m sorry. I’m also a little distracted today.” She liked that he reassured her and exposed his feelings to equal hers. When they left the building after class, he asked, “If you still want to meet me tonight, I can meet you at your place?”

  Smiling at him, she hit him playfully on the arm. “Of course, I still want to go, but let’s meet somewhere else.”

  He adjusted his bag from sliding off his shoulder then ran his hands through his hair resting them on the crown of his head. He was hoping to be a little more official tonight and meet at her place and go from there. He was now worried she might be embarrassed of him. He struggled to answer her, but rushed out a suggestion anyway. “Um … let’s meet at Pizzeria La Cucina at eight.”

  “Yes, that’s perfect.”

  Watching her walk away, he said, “Bye.”

  Evie spent her afternoon writing an essay she hoped would get her into a summer class that Professor Lang was offering to a small, select group of students. After printing it out and tucking it into her bag to turn in on Wednesday, she showered. The warm humidity had frizzed her hair earlier, and she spent a few extra minutes trying to manage the waves that had appeared. She liked the soft natural waves, but with everyone else’s disapproval of the wilder look, she was usually instructed to straighten her hair.

  As she was trying to decide what to wear when going out with a new friend, she remembered how William said he liked when girls wore skirts, but equally liked a girl in jeans. He had seen her plenty of times in skirts, so she decided to dress more casual, like he did. She found her most worn out pair of jeans with frayed spots on the legs and cuffs at the bottom—a pair she adored, but kept hidden in the back of her closet. She put a simple white V-neck T-shirt on that hugged her curves and slipped on a pair of white sneakers. They were too bright white for her liking since she’d never worn them before, never having an occasion to before tonight. After some simple make-up, she sprayed her signature scent on and grabbed a short black cardigan because it was still chilly at night.

 

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