When I walk into the restaurant around six o’clock, I immediately spot Drew. He’s sitting at the bar, sipping on a drink while he chats with the bartender. I’m always struck by how handsome he is, and it sends a tingle up my spine.
Shaking the thought away, I make my way toward Drew.
We only have thirty minutes before my date, a guy named Dan, will be here. I pull out the empty stool next to Drew, smiling brightly at him when he looks over at me. He does a double take; as usual, my skin turns the color of a strawberry at his response.
He quickly stands, placing his hand on my lower back and leaning in close to my ear, his breath against my skin. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispers. He places a kiss on my neck that makes me want to melt into the floor.
But, instead, I glare at him.
“What was that? You can’t do that when I’m on a date with someone else,” I scold him, attempting to sound madder than I actually feel.
He takes a step closer to me, peering down into my eyes because although I’m wearing heels, Drew still towers over me. A lump forms in my throat, and I can’t speak. “You’re not on your date yet,” he tries to reason.
“Oh,” is all I can manage to say because the way he’s looking at me is paralyzing.
“Do you want a drink?” Drew asks me, changing the subject and the mood around us.
“No, I…I...think I’ll wait,” I stammer out.
Drew indicates for me to sit, so I do. The bartender comes by and looks at me. “Can I just get some water?” I ask him, still feeling a little uneasy. He nods, grabs a glass, fills it, then sets it in front of me before turning to another customer.
Drew has taken his seat next to me once again.
“Okay, let me see it,” he tells me, reaching his hand out to me.
Opening my purse, I pull out the profile sheet I printed early in the day. I hand it to Drew, and he begins reading the details out loud.
“Dan Piper. Age 32. Never married. Enjoys surfing and hiking.” Drew rolls his eyes when he reads the hobbies. I elbow him in the side, and he just looks at me. “He sounds…great…perfect,” he announces once he’s done reading the entire profile. “Handsome, too. I guess.” I ignore his tone.
“So now what?” I ask him because I have no idea what exactly happens in this part of the plan.
“Well, I’ve been trying to figure why you need me all day long. I haven’t figured it out yet; you’re great without my help,” he compliments me in his Drew way.
“But I do. I have no idea how to act on a date because other than dinner the other night with you, I haven’t been on a date with anyone other than Michael. And we both know how that ended. Oh, God, I’m probably going to bore this Dan guy to death. What in the heck am I going to talk about with him? I’m a copy editor for crying out loud. The most exciting and intrepid thing I’ve done is have sex with you without a commitment! Twice!” By the time I stop talking, I’m shouting and panicking.
Drew starts rubbing circles with his hand slowly on my back. “Calm down; it’s going to be fine. Don’t panic. Take a deep breath and maybe talk a little lower next time.” There’s laughter in his voice. The sound helps me relax, and a giggle slips past my lips.
“Did I just yell to a restaurant full of people that we’ve had sex?” I laugh, and an unladylike snort escapes me, which only causes me to laugh harder.
Drew’s looking at me with that strange look again, and then he’s laughing, too.
I’m not sure how long we laugh, but when it subsides, he takes my hand into his and laces our fingers together. He isn’t smiling anymore. Neither am I. I have that strange feeling I usually feel when I’m with Drew.
“I figured it out,” he says quietly.
Looking away from our hands, I turn toward his face. “What?”
“I figured out why you need me…here.” He is sitting next to me; we’re mere inches apart, but his voice sounds so far away.
“Oh.” Once again, it’s the only thing I can think to say in response.
He lifts his gaze from our interlaced hands up to my face. “You need me to remind you.” He pauses to take a breath as if he’s been holding it instead of talking. When he speaks again, his eyes are clear. “I’m here to remind you how incredibly funny you are and that you have so much to say and offer someone. I’m here to calm you.” He raises our hands to his lips and places a soft kiss to mine. “If this guy is worthy, he’ll see how great you are. Just believe in yourself.”
They’re probably the sweetest and most kind words anyone has ever spoken to me. He’s right. I need him to keep me calm.
“Thank you,” I tell him so quietly, I don’t think he hears me at first.
Then he whispers back, “You’re welcome.”
This whole night has been strange, and my date is even more strange. Don’t get me wrong; he’s nice enough, everything he said he was on his profile. Dan is actually more handsome in person than in his profile photo. From that perspective, it appears I’ve picked a keeper, except that isn’t the only perspective.
He literally questions everything I put in my mouth.
When we’re seated at our table, I order a glass of chardonnay. As soon as the waiter brings it to our table and I take my first sip, Dan asks me if I have any idea what the grapes were fermented in. What? Excuse me? I want to say from the taste of it, it was fermented in deliciousness. Instead, I answer honestly that no, I don’t have a clue. He proceeds to tell me I may be poisoning myself with sulfites. I haven’t taken another drink.
When we order our food, he politely interrogates the waiter about the cooking process for what seems like the entire menu. He glances at me and informs me that the chicken piccata is safe to eat because the chicken used had free range, and all the other ingredients are truly organic. I lose my appetite after he describes the way non-free range chickens are handled and processed.
Now I’m sitting here, stomach growling, wishing I were drunk so I wouldn’t think about how hungry I am, and listening to my date regale a story about his West Indies tour last summer. He sounds fun—sounds being the key word in this equation.
My mind begins to drift, and I suddenly remember I haven’t noticed Drew in a while. Earlier he was seated at a table across the restaurant. I caught him watching us several times, and I tried to make him stop by giving him my evil eye. He only laughed at me and raised his drink in the air as if toasting me.
My eyes begin to search the room until they finally land on him sitting at the bar again.
He’s looking directly at me and our eyes meet. When he knows he has my attention, he gives me his signature grin. I smile back, tucking a loose hair behind my ear. I watch him pick up his phone and begin typing. When he finishes, he looks back up and points at me then at his phone.
Dan is still talking, something about a bus and chickens, completely oblivious to my lack of interest.
I slip my hand into my purse, pulling my phone out and setting it in my lap under the table. I tap the screen, and it lights up. There’s a text from Drew, and I smile at what I read.
Drew: Make an excuse. Say you have an emergency and meet me at your apartment.
I can’t do that. It would be rude. I lift my gaze back to him and shake my head. Just about the same time, Dan asks me if I want dessert, so he thinks I’m answering him. Damn it; I want dessert.
“It’s probably a good idea; the cream used in the Crème Brulee is probably full of hormones,” he decides. “Please excuse me for a moment while we wait for the waiter to bring our check.” As he gets up, he looks down at me and smiles. This smile tells me he thinks this is going really well. It makes me a little sad for him, but then I kind of feel pissed off he is oblivious to the fact I haven’t eaten a thing the entire meal.
My phone lights up again, so I look down and read the incoming text from Drew.
Drew: Seriously, Rosie. Hurry up. This guy isn’t the guy for you, and I’m tired of waiting.
Rosie: How can you tell he isn’t
the one from across the room?
His reply is almost immediate.
Drew: Because I’ve watched your face all night. You haven’t touched your food, and you barely took a sip of your wine. I know you. He’s not worthy. Now get your pretty little ass to your apartment. I’ll be there waiting.
It amazes me Drew has been at least fifty feet across the room from us all night, and he noticed everything and read my mood, but my date is a mere foot away and didn’t notice a thing. Damn it. I need an excuse.
When I walk off the elevator of my fifth-floor apartment, I’m immediately off my feet and hanging over a muscled shoulder, which I can only assume belongs to Drew. I let out a squeal, laughing as he slaps me on the ass. “You scared the bejeezus out of me!” I laugh, barely able to get the words out.
“Well, that’s what you get for making me wait!”
“Just put me down!” I exclaim.
“No,” he answers as he rounds the corner of the hallway. When we are almost to the door of my apartment, Drew turns so I can unlock the door. Once I have it unlocked, I twist the knob and push the door open, still hanging upside down.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” I tease. He slaps my ass again. He turns back around, walking through the door and closing it behind us. He drops his keys to the floor, so I follow suit, dropping my purse and keys. They land with a clank. Drew doesn’t stop walking until he enters my room. He allows me to slide down the front of his body; my arms wrap around his neck. Once we are eye to eye, our lips are mere inches apart; I feel the powerful tension in the air. We don’t move, though; we let it build while our breath mingles between us. Then slowly he leans in, his mouth tenderly touching mine. When he pulls back, I can only imagine my eyes look as dazed as his do. “I’ve wanted to do that since the moment you walked up next to me in the bar at the restaurant tonight.” There’s a reverence to his voice. “Me too,” I confess, crushing my lips against his. Wrapping my legs around his waist, he walks me over to the bed, kissing me feverishly the entire time. He groans when he sets me down as if it hurts to break contact. He reaches behind me, slowly unzipping my dress, letting it fall to the floor and pool at my feet. As he looks at me, he sucks in a breath. We both finish undressing quickly, and Drew rolls a condom on and pulls me onto the bed with him.
Unable to wait another second, we pull one another closer, his hungry mouth devouring mine. Pushing him onto his back, I crawl up his body, my legs resting on either side of his hips as I lower myself, feeling every inch of him connect with my body. The sensation of being with him vibrates through my whole body. For once, I take complete control, moving faster as he moans my name over and over. The sound only increasing the pleasure I feel with him inside of me. We both savor every touch. I push us both until we completely unravel into one another, utterly spent. Exhausted, I lie across his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It thumps to a beat I’m becoming more and more familiar with. And that scares me more than not being enough for someone.
Andy makes his way around the counter when I enter The Roasting Company. He already has my drink of choice in his hand. He hugs me after he hands me the cup of coffee.
“I’ve missed you,” he tells me. It always feels good to be near Andy. There is just something about him.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I reply. We pull apart, smiles on our faces.
“How are things?” he asks as he walks with me to one of the small tables at the center of the coffee shop and we take a seat.
I take a careful drink before answering him. “Honestly, things have been going really well. Work’s good. Life’s great. I feel good. I even made it to a yoga class this past week. What about you?”
“Things have been good. You know me, I’m enjoying my moments in time,” he tells me, an answer he gives me every time we talk. I like hearing it. The sentiment is one I find comforting.
We both stand at the same time; his break is over, and I need to get to work.
I lean in and give him another hug. We say our goodbyes and see you laters. As I’m walking out the door, I wonder for a moment if that is what Drew and I are having together. Just moments in time.
I want to ask Andy how he does it. How he can simply find someone who makes sense, who makes him feel good and happy, but be satisfied and happy with the time he’s allowed with them.
Moments in time, I think again. I like Drew and my moments. I feel good and happy, but can the knowledge that this time with him is nothing more than that be enough?
I’m reading the front page of the Good Times newspaper as I leave the coffee shop. It’s the reason I don’t notice Drew crossing the street toward me.
“Hey, gorgeous!” he hollers at me just before he reaches the curb.
I last saw Drew right before I fell asleep last night. As usual, I woke up alone. I realized after our second night together I was never going to get used to it.
Looking up from the paper, I can’t keep from lighting up at the sight of his approaching figure.
“Hey, are you meeting me tomorrow night?” I ask him.
“Meeting you?” He looks confused by my question.
“Didn’t you get my text I sent you this morning? I have another date,” I inform him.
He looks at me like I just punched him in the gut, but quickly changes his expression. He places the crooked smile on his face. The one I don’t like. The one that tries to impersonate the real one, but fails every time.
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Of course, I’ll be there,” he tells me.
Something is off, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.
“You okay?” I ask, concerned.
“Me? Yes, I just haven’t had my morning coffee yet, and boy do I need it. Someone kept me up all night,” he teases. Something is still off with him, though. “I’ll talk with you later.”
Drew turns and walks away quickly, leaving me staring at his retreating figure.
I hurry after him. “Drew, wait!” I call after him.
He stops, turning to face me. There it is again. He’s forcing a smile.
“What’s going on?” I question him pleadingly.
“What do you mean?” he responds, placing his hands on his hips.
“You’re acting weird, and I just wanted to be sure you’re okay,” I tell him.
He watches me. His eyes are searching my face like he’s having an inner debate and struggling with the right words. I remain silent. My mom has always told me that if you remain silent, people eventually tell you things. She says when you interrupt them, they almost always leave the important stuff out.
“Rosie, I’m good. I just really want a cup of coffee, and I need to get to work,” Drew finally answers.
I study his face. It’s the truth, but it isn’t the whole truth. Before I can respond, his phone rings and he answers it. “Hey.” There’s a sweetness to his voice and his eyes avoid me as he listens. “Yeah, of course. We’re still on for tonight. I’ll pick you up around seven. Great, bye.”
The conversation was brief, but as short as it was, I felt what seemed like a lifetime worth of pain. He’s going on a date. I knew he would be. It’s part of the deal. I’m going on dates, so why would he stop? When I look up, he’s watching me, so I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind. “A date? You’re…ah…you have a date. Awesome. Anyone I know?”
He seems confused by my comment and says, “Uh, no. I doubt it.”
“Okay, well are you sure nothing else is bothering you?” I ask, changing the subject back to our original topic.
“Rosie, I’m fine, but I really do need to get going,” he tells me.
Leaning forward, he places a light kiss on my cheek. It tingles under the skin where his lips touch.
“Okay,” I say, realizing I shouldn’t push this anymore. If he wanted to tell me what was bothering him, he would.
“See you tomorrow night,” he says in parting, then he turns away from me again.
I’m not sure how long I stand there staring in the directio
n he retreated, but I’m five minutes late for work today.
As I enter the office, Abbey is waiting for me by my desk. She smiles when she sees me, and I can tell she’s up to something.
“There’s someone I want you to meet!” she says excitedly.
I walk around her, setting my purse and coffee on my desk before acknowledging her.
Hand on my hip, I roll my eyes at her. “Who is it? I’m not sure I trust you; we’ve been through this before if you remember correctly,” I remind her.
“This is different, I promise. Travis is funny, and he has a great job!” she insists.
Abbey really does look excited about this guy.
“A great job?” I remark sarcastically.
“Yes, and he’s kind. He comes from a great family. He isn’t afraid to laugh and has been known to stick his awkward foot in his mouth. He’s you!” she rattles off. She’s practically shouting, and Bernadette leans out of her office, shushing us.
Abbey turns and flips her the bird once Bernadette is back in her office. I just laugh. Abbey has no thought over the fact that she just flipped our supervisor off.
Even though she acts like she doesn’t care, Abbey lowers her voice. “Seriously, Rosie. He’s hot, and there is no doubt in my mind that he’s good in bed!”
I was almost convinced until she said that. Abbey hasn’t stopped pushing me to sleep with my dates even after I explained my agreement with Drew. It’s like she isn’t hearing what I’m saying to her.
“Abbey, I told you this already, I’m only dating. No sex,” I say in a low voice so no one else will hear me.
“That’s a lie. You’re having sex,” she retorts.
Well, she has me there. I am having sex. Lots of sex. Lots of good sex. Wait, that’s wrong. I’m having lots of great sex. A smile creeps on my face.
“Dude, see, you’re thinking about having sex!” she exclaims.
Falling Slowly (Falling Novella Series Book 1) Page 7
