“I mean…you get by,” Angel conceded. “You haven’t killed yourself, at least. But cooking for someone else is a…step.”
“Right. That’s why I’m calling you. I need you to suggest something I can cook in like an hour or less that I can absolutely make and is going to impress her.”
“I’m not your personal chef,” Angel said. Alejandro could imagine him rolling his eyes because being mildly annoyed with each other was the bedrock of their relationship.
“But you are a personal chef.”
“Yeah, and people pay me to do this. They also give me more than half a second notice to plan.”
“I actually have about three hours before she comes over, but I need to clean my apartment and shower and all that. Also, I don’t want to waste time cooking on our date.”
“When you could be sexing,” Angel added. “Got it. Smart.”
“Shut up and help me,” he spat as he threw his bags into a shopping cart and maneuvered inside the grocery store.
“Strange way to ask for help.”
“This has been the longest week, Angel. I’m tired. Please, just help me,” Alejandro said in a weary voice.
There were a few seconds of silence on the line before Angel spoke again. “So, you like her like her,” he exclaimed. “Does mami know?”
He sighed. “Kind of.”
“Need more information.”
“I might have told her that I had a crush on someone, but not that we’ve gone out.”
“Ooooh, ‘cause you really like her,” Angel teased. “This is cute. Okay, I’m emailing you a recipe now.”
“Thank you,” Alejandro said, his shoulders slumping in relief.
“Yeah, whatever, no big deal. But if it gets you head, consider that when you get my Christmas present.”
Alejandro hung up on Angel without another word.
***
Deja wasn’t so much nervous as petrified, which kind of didn’t make any sense since she’d already been over to Alejandro’s place and had dropped her panties for him embarrassingly easily. What did she have to be nervous about now? Probably nothing. But she was, nonetheless.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she said to Toni, clutching the microphone part of her headphones in her hand and holding it up to her mouth.
“Yeah, you can,” Toni replied nonchalantly.
“What if I screw it up?”
“How? Also, just pop a titty out if you do. Instant reset.”
“What is wrong with you?” she hissed.
“Nothing. I’m actually being a great friend to you right now. I’m trying to get you to accept the many blessings this fine ass man is trying to bestow upon you. A home-cooked meal and dick? Girl! You a lucky bitch and you don’t even know it.”
“I like him,” Deja whined.
“Even better! I’d fuck a man I didn’t like if he could cook. No lie. I’m not proud about it, but it’s been a couple years since I got some good dick, and my standards are dropping embarrassingly fast. Anyway, enough about me and my neglected love life. Make sure there’s no lipstick on your teeth and get into that man’s apartment.”
“You should be a life coach,” Deja said sarcastically.
“No lie, I’ve considered that if this whole academic scam doesn’t pan out.”
“Thanks for nothing,” she muttered.
“More than welcome. Feel free to repay me in leftovers or a decent bottle of wine.”
Deja hung up on the sound of Toni cackling at her.
***
Alejandro had maybe bitten off more than he could chew.
“Okay, I might be burning this,” he said.
The sound of his brother’s laughter filled his ears. He would have ripped his earbuds out, but he didn’t have a free hand since he was currently trying to gauge if it was time to flip the pieces of salmon sizzling in the pan or not.
“Angel, help me,” Alejandro said.
“Fuck, I wish I had recorded that. Flip.”
“Now?” Alejandro asked, panicking.
“Yes. Duh.”
When he did so, he didn’t feel any less nervous. “Did I burn ‘em?”
“Do they look burned?”
“Kinda?”
“Send me a picture,” Angel said, clearly judging his older brother.
He wiped his hands on the dish towel over his shoulder and then took his phone from his pants pocket. He took a quick picture of the fish filets and took pictures of the couscous and salad, which he hadn’t burned, and sent them over, waiting with bated breath.
“They look alright. A bit sloppy but good. She there yet?”
“If she was here, I wouldn’t be on the phone with you.”
“So, you’d just be burning this fish in front of her? Bold.”
“You said it wasn’t burned,” Alejandro panicked, and then his doorbell rang. His chest actually hurt from his heart hammering against it.
“Shit, she’s here.”
“Take the fish off,” Angel said nonchalantly.
“Why? Fuck.”
“Because it should be done by now. Take it off and let it rest. You’re gonna have to eat now, though.”
“Oh, okay. Okay,” Alejandro said, turning in a small circle, unsure what to do with himself.
“Damn, bro, you sound nervous as fuck. Send me a picture.”
“Of what? Me freaking out?”
“Ugh, no. I know what that looks like. Send me a picture of her. I want to see what she looks like since she got you sounding like a teenager. I mean, if you ever answer the door.”
“Shit,” Alejandro spat. He took the fish from the hot pan, turned the burner off, and rushed toward the door. “Bye,” he said quickly to Angel before tapping his earbuds and cutting him off.
His doorbell rang again. “Coming. Sorry,” he called. He stopped to take a deep breath before he pulled the door open, and even though he’d pushed all the air from his lungs, Deja still took his breath away.
***
Deja bought this dress two years ago, thinking it would be a great dress to wear on a date, and then she hadn’t gone on a single date since. She had lots of items in her closet like that, things she’d bought on deep discount with the intention of wearing them out to all the social engagements she might one day have on her empty calendar, and then shoved at the back of her closet unworn and forgotten. This velvet A-line spaghetti strap dress with an intricately laced back that exposed more skin than it hid had cost her more than she’d normally spend on a single item — even on sale — but when she’d seen it in the clearance section at Nordstrom Rack, she hadn’t been able to stop touching it. It had taken almost an hour roaming around the store with the dress clutched to her chest before she convinced herself to just bite the financial bullet, never thinking it would take two years to have a reason to wear it.
She tried not to imagine how much money she’d wasted over the years on occasion wear without any occasion each time she pulled out the same jeans and sweaters to head to work or to the grocery store and then home again. Reaching into that forgotten corner of her closet to get dressed for tonight had felt like a triumph; as if all that money hadn’t actually been a waste at all. And then Alejandro opened his door, Deja’s heart skipped a stuttering beat, and she knew she hadn’t wasted a single cent.
His hair was curling at the ends again, still wet from a shower, she guessed. He was wearing a pair of simple blue jeans, and a white t-shirt that looked soft as butter stretched over his muscles.
He invited her inside and when she stepped in, the sweet, salty scents of cooked food engulfed her. She was impressed just as she realized that she was also hungry as hell.
Before she got out of her car, Deja had thrown her coat on and clutched it closed with a gloved hand to dart to Alejandro’s front door. She hung her purse onto one of the hooks on the foyer wall and then turned to face him, letting her coat gape open.
Alejandro’s eyes widened to the size of small saucers. “Can I take y
our coat?” he asked with a reddening face.
She nodded silently, not that he noticed since his was busy devouring her cleavage with his gaze. She turned slowly and pushed her coat from her shoulders, smiling at the sound of Alejandro’s sharp intake of breath as he took in her bare skin. His fingers skimmed over her skin, raising goosebumps in their wake as he took her coat.
Deja shivered.
He clutched her jacket in his hands as she turned around, his eyes on her in this dress she’d only ever worn for him, even if he didn’t know it. She tried not to fidget under his gaze but couldn’t stop herself from smoothing her hands over her hips.
His eyes followed the movement and he licked his lips. “You look…” he said, his voice trailing off as a smile formed on his lips.
She swallowed nervously. “What?”
His eyes slowly moved up her body, and Deja felt as if all the muscles in her stomach clenched at his attention.
“You look fucking perfect,” he finally said as he made eye contact with her. “Beautiful.”
She ducked her head and smiled, a small part of her brain wishing she could see herself the way he did.
13.
“I can’t believe you made this,” Deja said for the second, maybe even the third, time.
“Men can cook,” Alejandro replied with a chuckle.
“Not many. Certainly, none of the losers I’ve dated.”
Alejandro watched as she cringed at her words before taking another dainty bite of salmon and chewing; determined to move on from that admission. He ducked his head to hide his smile at her adorable admission and that simply letting his brother annoy him for a few hours had produced that result. But he didn’t want to deceive her; he liked her too much for that.
“My brother’s a personal chef. He basically told me how to make all this and I was terrified that I’d burned the salmon as soon as I put it in the pan,” he admitted in a rush.
Her eyes lifted to his and she swallowed before smiling. “But you still cooked it. You didn’t try and convince me you made Burger King burgers even when I could see the wrappers in the trash.”
“Wait. What?”
“You didn’t put offer me a selection of top ramen.”
“No,” he whispered.
“Or bust out the Cheez Whiz for hors d’oeuvres.”
“Please be making this up,” Alejandro groaned.
“I once dated a dude who burnt minute rice.”
He barked out a breath of laughter. “No.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Great question. I asked him more than once and never got an answer that made sense. It was a weird reason to break up with someone,” she said with a shrug, “but it literally tells you how long to cook it on the box. It’s in the name,” she exclaimed, and Alejandro could tell that she told this story often and always annoyed at the memory.
Alejandro dropped his fork doubled over in laughter. There were tears in his eyes when he turned back to Deja, who was smiling at him. “I can’t believe…”
“Neither could I,” she said with a smile. “Like I said, the bar is on the floor, but you really are amazing.” She smiled down at her plate for a second and then raised her head. “If you aren’t careful, I’m going to develop standards for men again.”
The laughter died on Alejandro’s tongue, and his smile faltered. “Good,” he said, his stomach swirling with a mix of annoyance and happiness. “You deserve to be with a man that can do so much more than just barely cook a pot of rice. This isn’t even a question. You know that right?”
Her own smile fell into a rueful grin. “Men always say stuff like that, as if women want to be dating useless men. As if so many men aren’t useless and great at hiding it. As if so many of us don’t either settle or stay single.”
“Is that what you’ve done?” he asked.
She sucked in a quick breath and swallowed. “Yes,” she admitted quietly. “I settled all through college and grad school for men who sometimes remembered Valentine’s Day was the same day every year and could be bothered to pick up a card. But then I moved here.”
“And then what happened?”
“There’s literally no one to date here,” she said. “Look at the demographics. This place is sixty per cent female during the academic year and fifty-five percent female when the students are gone, which is also Centreville’s median age during the summer. There are no men to date unless I want to drive an hour, at least, just to see a movie.”
“I’m here,” he said impulsively. His chest warmed when she ducked her head briefly to smile.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “You’re here, and until a couple of months ago I didn’t think you’d ever...” She shook her head in disbelief. “Best, every single woman on campus has a crush on you, straight or queer. Some of the married women, too. Maybe even some of the queer men, I don’t know.”
“You’re exaggerating,” he said, blushing.
She scoffed. “And you’re oblivious, apparently. You, Mike, and Johan in Physics are the single male avatars of the College of Arts & Sciences. You three could have any woman on campus if you wanted.”
"I just want you,” he said.
She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. Her white teeth flashed as she bit down, the smile she was trying to hide lifting her cheeks.
Alejandro’s stomach was tight with lust and anticipation. His heart was racing, and it was suddenly just a little too warm in his dining room. He’d been waiting for this moment all day, all week even. He stood from his chair and walked around the table to her. He put one hand next to her dinner plate and the other on the back of her chair. His thumb brushed the tantalizing bare skin that her dress exposed; that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since she’d arrived. And then he bent down to face her.
Her mouth fell open, and his balls ached at the thought of all the things he wanted to do to her mouth.
“I just want you, Deja,” he said and watched her shiver.
He relished the affect he had on her, but he couldn’t help but wonder if she realized the effect she had on him.
***
What happens after dinner?
Alejandro hadn’t thought that far. He’d only wanted to spend a little more time with Deja and take care of her a little bit. Okay, that wasn’t true, he’d been thinking about what he’d do when she came over again – if she came over again – since their first date, but their schedules had been so packed as the semester sprinted to a close. So, he continued dreaming about her, jacking himself off to fantasies of her and coming more forcefully these days because now he knew how she felt, and tasted, and the noises she made when she came.
Now that she was in his apartment again, he was wearing his self-control thin stopping himself from leading her to his bedroom. But it was hard not to sit across from her at his dining room table and watch her lips slide along the tines of her fork, or see her nervously stroking the stem of the wine glass in her hands or even flip through the photo album on his coffee table, turning the page with her index finger, and think about anything else but how much he wanted to touch her and for her to touch him.
“These pictures are beautiful,” she whispered, and the softness of her voice made his balls ache.
He shifted closer to her on the couch. Their sides touched. “Thanks. I don’t have much time to take pictures these days, but I try.”
Her hand stilled, and she turned to him. “Wait, you took these?”
“Yeah.”
“They’re amazing.”
He shook his head. “They’re okay. It’s just a hobby.”
“That you’re great at,” she corrected.
“I used to be okay at it,” he hedged. “Like I said, I don’t have much time to shoot.” He swallowed and leaned to the side to press into her again. “I’d like to take pictures of you, though.”
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Oh my god, no. I hate pictures. As soon as someone aims a camera at me,
I just freeze up.”
Alejandro moved his right hand to Deja’s knee. He pushed the hem of her dress up so he could stroke her inner thigh with his fingertips. She took the most elegant intake of breath, and his composure slipped away. He slowly pushed his entire hand between his legs, waiting for her to stop him or open her legs and invite him inside. When the tips of his fingers touched the place where her thighs met, they both stilled and inhaled sharply.
Alejandro’s gaze was on her mouth, stained with the remnants of a wine-colored lipstick. He licked his lips and then met her eyes. He watched as she placed the wine glass onto his coffee table, and then leaned back, getting comfortable on his couch. And then she spread her legs for him.
He groaned and started moving his hand again and his dick hardened in his pants. She moaned softly as he possessively cupped her mound with his hand. She was shaking. So was he.
“Would you really freeze if I took the pictures?” he whispered to her.
“Probably,” she said in a breathy moan. She squirmed, spreading her legs wider as her eyes drifted closed.
He couldn't look away. He loved watching as the small wrinkles over her brow began to disappear as she relaxed under his touch.
Alejandro spent a year memorizing the contours of Deja’s face in pieces, new little details he memorized about her as they passed one another around campus, but he wanted more than glimpses. Alejandro wanted Deja completely, he wanted to touch and taste her and know that it wasn’t a fleeting thing, but it was too soon to be thinking that let alone to ask her for it so, he moved his fingers into her underwear and started stroking her sex. He said with his hands what he couldn’t say with his mouth. Not yet, at least.
“I don’t think so,” he whispered in a hoarse voice as reclined next to her and teased her opening with his index finger.
“What?” she groaned, and those wrinkles returned.
“I think you’d be okay if I took pictures of you,” he said, pressing his middle finger inside of her. “I think I could relax you.”
She shifted her hips with a groan, trying to pull him deeper inside her.
He pulled his finger back, teasing her opening again before pressing two fingers inside of her this time. The wrinkles softened and faded.
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