by L. L. Ash
Taking off my helmet, Fae sat frozen on the seat, probably staring at me through the face shield, wondering what the fuck I was doing.
She took hers off slowly, looking at me, then the diner, then me, the diner.
You get the drift.
“I’m fucking starving,” I said eventually, just to try and cut the tension that was building by the nano-second.
She gulped, then slowly nodded.
“Do they have pancakes?” she asked.
“Awesome pancakes,” I agreed.
“And bacon?”
“All diners have bacon in America.”
“Touché.” She nodded and slid off, showing off a bit of those sexy, sexy thighs.
Groaning inwardly, I put out my hand for her before walking into the building.
“Hey, hun!” Reba, my normal waitress smiled at me. “Brought a friend this time?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, smiling back.
This woman had seen me at my best and worst, and at all stages of tired when I came in for food after my late shifts at the shop.
She led the way to my normal booth towards the back and asked as we sat, “Want your usual?”
I nodded and winked at her as she handed Fae a menu.
“Come here often?” Fae smirked at me as Reba left.
“At least two or three times a week,” I admitted, wondering if I should be ashamed of that.
I liked breakfast for dinner. Was that a crime?
“You just keep getting better.” She grinned, opening her menu.
I keep getting better? That’s good, right?
Holy fuck, what’s up with this weird, insecure teenager bullshit?
Get a grip, man!
I cleared my throat just as she asked, “What’s good?”
“Pancakes,” I told her. “And bacon.”
“Maybe I want French toast?” she asked, more as a question than a statement.
“Never had it,” I told her.
Reba moved toward our table again, setting down two mugs and filling mine with coffee.
“Want some, hun?” she asked Fae, hovering the thing above her mug like she was just dying to fill it. “Don’t worry, it’s decaf.”
Fae looked at me with a twinkle in her eye before nodding at Reba.
“Thanks, that sounds good.” She nodded and pressed a hand to her belly, just where the tattoo was peeking through that hot as hell top.
The woman dressed to impress tonight, and I kind of loved it, kind of hated it.
I loved it for obvious reasons, but I hated it because it made it so much harder to keep my Goddamn hands off her.
And that skirt? Fuggidaboutit. That thing was like another skin, and every time I saw those sweet globes of her ass stretch that leather, all I could think about was the way those beautiful cheeks looked naked.
The only thing I did let myself touch was her hair… It seemed simple, like something a nice guy would do, but the truth was, I couldn’t keep my grubby fingers off those fire-red strands for a second longer.
She looked like sex on heels tonight. A far cry from her normal sweater sets and sensible flats. The question was, who dressed her? Josie or Cambria?
With those thoughts blowing through my mind, I almost missed the cute, suggestive look she gave me after Reba walked away again after taking Fae’s order.
“Decaf, huh?” She quirked her lips up in a half smile.
“This late at night? Yes. God knows I’d stay up all fucking night and be dead to the world in the morning if I had caffeine this late.”
Fae laughed.
“You don’t make any sense.” She smiled fully now. “You’re such a daredevil with the bike and the man bun, but you’re a sensible business owner who doesn’t drink regular coffee at night.”
“Even daredevils got to sleep.” I winked at her.
I liked that she thought I was a daredevil. That was probably why she felt the need to dress up.
Funny thing though, I thought she was just as sexy in a twin sweater set as in that barely-there top.
It was pretty quiet after that until Reba brought us our food.
To my surprise, Fae had ordered a short stack of pancakes and bacon, with a side of two over easy eggs.
And set in front of me was the same, except my pancakes were stacked high, and my eggs were scrambled.
“Really?” Fae laughed when she saw our food.
I shrugged and took the syrup from Reba before dousing my blueberry pancakes.
“You know the saying? Great minds think alike,” I told her, handing over the syrup as I cut then speared a bite of pancakes.
Oh God… So good…
“So, how’re you liking the ink?” I asked, trying to get us back to neutral territory again.
We were either flirting or not talking. We needed to find something in between somewhere.
“I...I like it.” She looked down at the tattoo and brushed her fingers over it again. “I just don’t...I’m not used to dressing for showing this off.”
She breathed a chuckle and turned back to her food, lifting a piece of crispy bacon to her lips.
“So, I’m going to guess Josie picked that out,” I told her, pointing to the top that all but let those fantastic tits hang out.
Fae’s cheeks pinkened immediately, a blush spreading over her face and fanned across her chest.
“Yeah. It’s...not my usual attire,” she admitted.
Hell if I didn’t know that already.
“So, if you don’t mind my asking…why’d you wear it? If it’s not your usual thing?”
Her blush deepened.
I knew it was an asshole question, but I needed to know.
Did she do it to seduce me, or because she thought this was what she had to do to date me?
“I-I don’t know, exactly.” She gave a little shrug, her eyes dropping to her plate as one arm wrapped around her midsection. “The girls brought it and I just put it on. I didn’t really think twice about it. I-I thought you’d...like it.”
“I do.” I propped an elbow on the table, resting my head on it before lifting the other hand and touching her chin across from me, lifting her eyes to meet mine. “But don’t be someone else for me. I like you just the way you are. Twin sweater sets and all.”
Her lips broke into a smile, though her eyes dropped again.
“I was freaking mortified when I realized I showed up that day in a sweater set...” she rolled her eyes.
“Why?” I chuckled.
“Uh, maybe because I’m a grown woman, right in the middle of her sexual awakening and I dress like a grandma?”
I couldn’t help but laugh full out, which in turn made her blush more.
“Just for the record. I liked your sweater set. It was sexy.”
I gulped and fought against my raging boner as she gave me these amazing Bambi eyes with those seafoam jewels sparkling at me.
“You saying you have a grandma kink?” Her lips slowly turned up into a grin.
“More like a MILF fantasy.” I bounced my eyebrows at her and she laughed at me, digging back into her pancakes with a shake of her head.
“A MILF fantasy. Got it. Maybe sometime I'll dress in yoga pants and a big t-shirt and see just what kind of fantasy it is.”
Holy hell, that ass in yoga pants? Uh, yes please.
“If you ever come on a date with me in yoga pants and a t-shirt, we're not leaving your house,” I warned her back.
Eyes sparkling in mischief, she grinned and said, “I'll keep that in mind.”
We got further into our food, our conversation moving to a safer topic of where we grew up and that kind of first date bullshit.
It was awesome.
Fae shared freely about her life growing up, the good and the bad, and I shared a few things, but left most of her silent inquiries unanswered.
I didn't want to talk about my mom or sister. I didn't want to talk about growing up in a wealthy home. I didn't want to talk about growing up alone, s
ad, and afraid to be myself. I’m a different person now than I was back then. I wasn't anyone's bitch anymore, and I lived life to its fullest. I may still be lonely, but at least I was happy.
The sun was peeking over the horizon when we finished our round of pancakes and bacon, with a tower of onion rings that we shared between us. Fae was smiling but yawning. It was time to end the date and bring her home.
Reba took my card quickly and rang us up as we gathered our jackets and helmets, working our way toward the front of the diner where Reba was working the register.
“You two have a nice night,” she said to us as we left, hand in hand.
Silently Fae got up on my bike behind me, so much easier than the first couple times, then pulled on her helmet and plastered her body against mine as I kicked the starter and headed off.
Her thighs practically burned me where she clung to me. And even though I wanted nothing more than to be inside her again, I drove her straight home. I helped her tired body up the stairs, then gave her a searing kiss goodnight. Er...morning.
“Friday night,” I sort of asked, sort of told her as I stood there, the remnants of her chocolate chip pancakes flavoring my lips.
“Friday.” She nodded, blurry eyed.
“I'll be here at six to get you. I'm bringing you to a nice dinner.
She nodded, looking up at me with distress on her face, as if she just realized that this was actually goodbye.
“You won't come in?” she asked me quietly.
“I should let you sleep after keeping you up all night.”
“You can keep me up a little longer,” she flirted.
I stepped forward, kissing her one more time.
“See you Friday,” I whispered into her lips and turned, bounding down the stairs before I could change my mind and fuck her again.
She stood at the door as I pulled my helmet on, hers tucked into one of the saddlebags on either side of the back fender, then watched as I peeled out of there, my body aching to feel hers again.
When I arrived home, I was so far away from sleep. All I could feel we're her thighs squeezing my hips, her head against my back… her hands pressed low on my belly.
I wandered down the hallway, turning before I got to the master bedroom and entered my studio. It's been days since I found time to paint, but today I needed the release. I picked up a fresh canvas and my clean palate, staring at the oil paints in front of me.
Instinctively, my fingers curled around a tube labeled scarlet red.
Fae
I pressed my back against the door after starting at the spot where he disappeared down the road.
He left.
I'd dressed like a slut, threw myself at him...and he left.
Maybe that said more about me than him, but disappointment didn't even begin to cover how I was feeling.
I'd anticipated the night to end like it had before, but this time he'd reigned in and was the consummate gentleman. Funny enough, he was more gentlemanly than every supposed gentleman I'd ever gone out with.
Roman and his tattoos, piercings, and badass attitude had left me at my doorstep with a kiss and a promise of another date. And though I burned for him, I couldn't resent that he took care of me, and treated me like a queen.
Friday, I'd try my seduction again, and until then, I'd just have to get creative to ease the ache Roman had left between my legs.
“I can't believe you guys didn't do it!” Josie frowned, looking almost as offended as I'd been when Roman left me on my doorstep.
“Oh come on! It's adorable!” Cambria countered. “Since when is a man being respectful and taking it slow a bad thing? Seriously, it was your first date.”
“First date after they freaking hooked up!” Josie folded her arms over her chest. “They should have at least gotten to third base! And she got a wax, too! I mean, what a waste! It's rude for a dude to waste a perfectly good Brazilian!”
“I'm seeing him again tomorrow, so we'll see what happens,” I told them, hanging out with my friends Thursday night.
I tucked into the popcorn bowl and listened nervously over the crunch in my mouth as my friends argued over Roman’s intentions. Josie thought he was after some hookups, and Cambria insisted that after knowing him a few days at Inkubus, that he was actually interested in me.
I wasn't sure what to believe. I was just chomping at the bit until I saw him again.
We still hadn't exchanged phone numbers, so texts were out of the picture for now, and I wasn't about to go invite myself back to his shop, inserting myself into his personal business.
My phone started ringing so I picked it up.
Mom.
Pressing the little green button, I answered.
“Hi Mom,” I whispered, dragging myself away from my squabbling friends.
“Have you talked to Justin yet?” she asked, not even a hello.
“No, I have not.” I frowned, feeling anger beginning to simmer in my belly.
“Honey, I know your pride is hurt...I...I understand. Honestly I do. But sometimes you just have to put aside the anger and pain and put perspective on what really matters.”
She understood? How could she understand?
“Perspective?” I scoffed. “There is no perspective for this, Mom. Justin cheated on me. While we were freaking engaged. He has no respect for me. He doesn’t deserve me.”
“Well, that we both agree on...” She sighed. “But it doesn’t matter. Your father really thinks that this union will set you up for a great future. We want you taken care of, honey. We want to make sure that you are successful in your life and have everything at your fingertips. Your father can’t keep providing for you forever, Fae.”
“Then stop!” I heard myself saying, instantly my eyes widened at the strange, confusing words that were leaving my mouth.
It was silent for a minute before I sighed.
“Mom, don’t you and Dad want me to be happy?”
“Of course we do.” It was her turn to scoff.
“Well...I don’t want to be a lawyer.”
Silence.
Where the hell was all this coming from?
“You obviously still need some time,” Mom said finally. “You’re speaking like a madwoman right now. I’ll see you on Sunday.”
With that she hung up and I sighed, staring down at my phone.
The screen eventually went black as I stared, wondering what had gotten into me that I’d shared all those things with my mom. I mean, I’d been thinking those things forever, but not a word had ever escaped my lips. I’d always been too afraid of disappointing my parents to actually say them.
Now that it was all seeping out of me like toxic gas, of course my mom thought something was wrong with me. Maybe a midlife crisis that was happening a couple decades too early. Who knows what she thought of me at this point.
My phone brightened in my hands with a little vibration, an unknown number popping up with a text.
Unknown Number: Cam gave me your number today. Hope that’s ok. ~Italian
Italian? Roman?
I ran out to the living room and demanded of Cambria, “Did you give Roman my phone number?”
She grinned.
“I was wondering when he’d eventually text. He was so cute and nervous about asking for it. Said he felt stupid for forgetting to ask you on your date.”
I sucked in my bottom lip, then grinned and threw my hands around Cambria in my arms.
“I could kiss you!” I told her, then hopped away toward my bedroom again.
Me: I’m glad you eventually remembered to ask for it.
As I waited for a response, I saved his number into my phone as Italian.
It vibrated again and a notification told me I had a new text.
Italian: Give me shit all you want. I deserve it. At least you’re talking to me.
I laughed and sent him a smiley face.
Me: Hey, I could have asked too. I kind of forgot.
Italian: So we equally fucke
d it up. Let’s move on.
Me: Agreed.
Italian: What’re you doing tonight?
Me: The girls are hanging out here.
Italian: You baking anything?
Me: No. Should I be?
Italian: Your brownies were kick ass.
Italian: Sure you don’t want to be a baker instead of a chef?
My throat choked up a little at the thought. Baker? I did love to bake.
Me: If I bake something warm and yummy, would I see your face sooner than Friday?
Italian: Bet your fucking sexy ass you would. Ryan is over though. He’d have to come with.
Italian: Unless you want me to kick him to the curb. More baked shit for me.
Me: Bring him. The girls will love him.
Italian: Be there in twenty.
My heart started pumping quickly, thinking of what I should bake, then I realized that I probably looked terrible.
I slid to the mirror, checked my hair and wiped mascara flakes off from under my eyes before rushing out to the living room where the girls were munching on popcorn.
“They’re coming!” I yelled, sliding in my socks onto the hardwood floors of the kitchen.
“Who’s coming?” Josie’s eyes went wide.
“The aliens, obviously!” Cambria swatted Josie.
“Roman! And his sexy friend, Ryan,” I told them, throwing open cabinets and pulling out flour, sugar and baking soda.
“Roman?” Cambria perked up.
“Sexy friend?” was all Josie heard out of my whole sentence.
“Twenty minutes!” I called.
Just like that, they were up and cleaning up our mess before shoving each other to get into my bedroom first, probably to use my makeup to freshen up. Too bad I didn’t get that option.
I flicked a hair tie into my hair, comforted at that familiar crack it made as I let it go, tight enough to hold up my huge mass of hair in a ponytail before I began to measure out my dry ingredients in a bowl on my kitchen scale.
Cake this time. Not only would it impress a lot more than my burned brownies, but it would take a whole lot longer to make...which meant he would be forced to stay and hang out until it was done.
I was slipping the cake into the oven just as a knock echoed through my silent house.
