by Helena Rac
“I’ll see you later, then,” he says as he backs away and walks toward the door.
“Later, stranger.” I stare after him, enthralled.
Oh shit. Where is he taking me? What should I wear? A list of questions fills my head. Before I’m able to ask him, he’s out the door. I hate not being prepared. But my phone buzzes, and this time I’m actually hoping it’s from him.
Wear something as pretty as your eyes.
I smile at his text. He thinks I have pretty eyes. And then the nerves hit me. How am I going to get through the day knowing I’m going out on a date, an actual date, with none other than my delicious stranger?
Chapter 8
“You need to loosen up, Tessa, or your brain’s going to explode all over the bakery, and that would not be pretty.” Rose interrupts my thoughts, which is welcome because the day seems to be dragging on as I try not to think about seeing Luke tonight. And fail. I’m excited and nervous and having trouble focusing. I’m a wreck.
“Umm, gross. Thanks for painting that picture.” I grimace in disgust.
“Relax. I’m sure it will all work out fine,” she continues.
How can she be sure? So far our encounters have been physical and intense. I still can’t quite figure out who Luke is. My mind is telling me that he’s a player and that I should tread carefully, but it’s also telling me he’s anything but. The pull I feel when I’m around him is indescribable. He’s like a magnet, and I am undeniably drawn to him. When we’re together, everything else seems to disappear. It’s just him and me and our little bubble, though so far it’s been a very sexually charged bubble. I need to know if there is more to him, to us, than pure physical attraction.
“You’re right. I’m just not sure what to expect. What if we totally don’t click and end up sitting through an entire dinner with nothing to say? God, that would be horrible.” I clench my teeth, feeling a sense of panic. I hate the quiet. It makes me uncomfortable. No matter who I’m with, I’m always nervous that there will be that weird silence and we’ll have nothing to talk about. So I compensate by over-sharing – anything to keep the conversation going, even if it ends up being one-sided. And I hate when that happens even more.
“Tessa, you obviously like him,” Rose says matter-of-factly.
“Is it that obvious?”
“A little. You wouldn’t be this frazzled if you didn’t. Have you considered just going with the flow and not stressing out over what’s going to happen tonight?” It’s easy for her to say. She’s an expert in first dates.
“Trust me, I have, and I wish it were that easy for me. You know how obsessive I get. I overthink pretty much everything that has any importance in my life.”
“Are you suggesting that he’s important?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” I’m unsure of my own answer because he can’t be. I barely know him. “It sounds so ridiculous, but I’ve thought of him pretty much daily since the first time I ran into him. And even more since the last time I saw him. I seriously think there’s something wrong with me. But then I thought I had it all figured out and under control. I thought I was going to be able to break free. And now that he’s here again and has asked me on a date, I’m going crazy wondering if I’ve been given yet another chance with him for a reason. I don’t know if I can trust myself not to ruin it all with my inability to just let things play out.” I ramble on in a state of panic as the messy emotions that have built up over the last few hours explode. “And what should I be expecting from all of this? He’s only here until after the wedding, and then what? He’ll be gone, and I’ll be left wondering why I wasn’t able to reason myself out of feeling anything so that I could just go on with my life as if he’d never entered it in the first place! I don’t want to have to go through that again.”
“Okay, now look at me.” Rose grasps my shoulders and looks me straight in the eyes. “Take a deep breath. Here, have a sip of water.” She hands me a glass that I don’t even recall her filling. I nod and do as I’m told, feeling slightly more under control. Slightly more like normal me. Where did that Tessa disappear to just a moment ago?
“Tessa, you can’t predict what’s going to happen. You don’t even really know Luke. The one thing you should know is that he’s not Jason. And I’m telling you right now, you would be crazy not to let yourself take a chance on something that could turn out to be fun. And who knows, maybe even something you’ll be able to hold on to? This is only going to get as serious as you make it. Even if it ends up being just a fling, so what? Give yourself that chance. Live a little.”
A fling. That’s probably all this could ever be. That’s all I can take right now; that’s all I can give. That’s probably all Luke is really thinking too. There’s no way he’s even considering an emotional attachment of sorts.
Rose is fully aware of my experience with Jason and my resulting aversion to the opposite sex, though there’s no way she could quite understand how frightening it all sounds to me. But it’s like she’s the voice of reason I’m currently lacking. I know I have to do just as she said. The fact that I just blew up in front of her means I am far less likely to freak out in front of Luke tonight. Good start, at least.
“Thanks. You’re always able to put things into perspective for me. And you’re right. I have to give this a chance, for whatever it’s worth. Even if it is just a fling.”
When five o’clock strikes, I rush home like someone’s chasing me. As I shower, Luke’s words echo in my mind: Wear something as pretty as your eyes. Translating guy-speak into an appropriate wardrobe selection is not as easy as I thought it would be.
I methodically select a few dresses that seem to fit his request, but I can’t decide what I want to wear. Is the dress too casual, too formal? Too sexy, not sexy enough? Do I want him to drool or do I want to have a meaningful conversation? Is the color right? Ugh.
Eventually, I settle on a flowy, knee-length dark red dress that complements my eyes. The bodice criss-crosses above the wide-banded waist, leaving sexy openings above my belly button and my lower back. It’s pretty but flirtatious enough to make Luke drool. I hope.
Wait, why do I hope? I’m analyzing this when my intercom buzzes.
“I’m downstairs. You ready?” Luke asks.
The heaviness of his simple question resonates with me. Am I ready? Yes, I’m dressed and dolled up, but am I really ready for a date with Luke? My heart is pounding with anticipation and panic at the same time. I try to steady my voice before I respond, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Good. Because I can’t wait to see you.”
I realize I’m grinning like an idiot as I buzz him in.
When I open the door, I’m faced with Mr. Delicious. He’s looking down at me, his shoulder pressed against the door frame and his legs crossed casually. He’s handsomely put together in a light pair of pants and a dark button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves that accentuate his muscular forearms. I inhale that freshly showered scent of his and instantly feel weak at the knees.
“Hey, stranger,” I breathe, clearly smitten.
“Hey.” His eyes are on me, traveling from top to bottom. “That’s quite the dress.”
I can’t help but smile. “You like?”
“Like? Tessa, you look incredible.”
“Thanks.” I feel myself blush.
He takes a step closer, and then his lips meet my cheek. His kiss is short, but lingering. When his lips leave my skin, the spot burns. I open my eyes and see him smile smugly. He’s such a tease.
When we get to the car, which Luke has borrowed from Marcus for the night, he opens the door for me. As I’m about to sit down, I notice a shiny silver gift bag with a pink twirly ribbon on it waiting patiently on my seat.
“For me?” I point to the bag before sitting down.
“Maybe,” he teases. I’m starting to realize Luke likes being playful, and I also realize I most definitely like it. “If all goes as planned.”
“Oh, I see.” I pause, mu
lling over my response before saying it out loud. I go for it anyway. “For what it’s worth, I really hope it does. Otherwise, I’m not sure I’ll be able to go on with my life wondering what could have been.” I gaze longingly at the gift, wondering if he gets the double meaning.
“I’m sure it will, so no worries there. I have a good feeling about tonight.”
Chapter 9
Luke’s made reservations at one of my favorite Italian restaurants in the Loop. I’m guessing he picked up that little factoid from Clara along with all my other vital statistics. Or maybe I just need to stop analyzing every move he’s making and go with the flow. It’s just dinner, after all.
The restaurant is authentic and romantic and it smells like heaven. I’m immediately taken back to childhood memories of my visits to Italy, of the charming beauty of the Italian Riviera, of the countless summer days spent at Nonna’s house.
While we’re deciding what to order, I take a moment to peek at – or, more accurately, swoon over – Luke while he’s analyzing the menu in front of him. He’s rubbing his index finger against his lips, deep in thought, as his chin rests on his thumb. God, those lips…
Luke peeks over his menu, catching my not-so-subtle ogling. I’m so busted.
“Are you secretly spying on me?”
“Who, me?”
“Yes. You.”
“Hmm, maybe.”
“You see something you like?” he asks, his index finger still rubbing his lip absentmindedly. He really needs to stop that. It’s kind of distracting. It’s a good thing the table is separating us, because I cannot be held responsible for any socially inappropriate actions when faced with this male form of sex-on-a-stick. “Maybe a bit more than I anticipated.” I smile while holding his gaze, then say flirtatiously, “I’ll have the lobster risotto. Mm-hmm, I’d definitely like that.”
“Well played, Ms. Conte.”
“There’s more where that came from.”
“Then tell me more. I’d really like to know more about you, Tessa.”
This is one of the reasons I was panicking earlier today. I knew this question would probably come up at some point tonight. I thought about what I would say to make sure I didn’t come across as, well, me. But I am who I am. No need to hide. Though I can’t help but wonder if my response might scare him off before the main course arrives.
“There’s not much to know. I’m twenty-six and I’m single. I’m an obsessive overthinker, planner, and perfectionist. I make lists – for everything.” I might have made a list of key points to discuss tonight in case things got awkwardly quiet. Not that it’s one of those moments right now, but it’s good to be prepared. “I very rarely let emotions get in the way. I like my personal space. I’m generally talkative, especially when I’m not smitten by delicious, sexy strangers.” Luke smirks. He’s fully aware which sexy stranger I’m referring to. “And as you probably already know, I’m pretty creative,” I say matter-of-factly, nervously picking at my polished nails. “So yeah, that’s me.”
The hills are waiting. Run for your life, Luke. But he doesn’t.
“That all sounds very appealing to me.” He’s actually dead serious. “Especially the ‘single’ part. Thinking things through just means you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, which I admire. Emotions can cloud judgment, so I can understand that. You’re adorable when you talk, albeit inarticulately at times, to delicious, sexy strangers. Your creative side … I can think of a few things we could do with that.”
I like where this is going. I also like how forward Luke is, how comfortable he is saying whatever’s on his mind. And frankly, I’m a little bit shocked at how accepting he is of me and my quirks.
“But what intrigues me the most,” he continues, “are the lists.”
Of course.
“It’s just a little something to help me keep my life organized, to help me make decisions. No big deal, really. It’s just the way I work.” I smile, trying not to make it sound like I’m some sort of freak, when clearly I may need help.
Luke is contemplating something, I can sense it. “So, is there a list for me? Did you make one to help you decide whether to go on a date with me?”
He’s so intuitive. To tell the truth, or not?
“There may be a list.” I smile. “Or maybe two.”
He’s about to say something else, but I stop him before it comes out. Because it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know what he’s going to ask next.
“No, no, no. There’s no way.”
“What?” he pleads innocently.
“There’s no way I’m letting you see the lists.” I should have lied.
“I wasn’t going to ask, I swear,” Luke laughs. “I think it’s kind of cute.”
“Sure you weren’t. You make me seem like less of a freak, but you should really run for the hills,” I suggest, giving him one last chance.
“No way am I running from you. I think you’re kind of stuck with me, whether you like it or not,” he jokes. But underneath that sexy grin, he seems more serious than he lets on. Maybe he really isn’t a Jason. Maybe he’s more of a Luke.
“Suit yourself, and don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Duly noted.” He doesn’t seem to be taking my warning seriously, at all. But that doesn’t really surprise me.
“So how about you?” I ask, hoping to move past the topic of lists.
“Let’s see. I’m twenty-eight and single. I let emotions guide my decisions more often than I care to admit. I like to cuddle – a lot, but mainly with Elsie. My Lab,” he clarifies, after catching the confused look on my face. “I act on instinct, I say what’s on my mind, and I love adventures of all sorts.” He’s nothing like me, yet I’m intrigued because he’s so different. “Oh, and I’m also pretty stubborn.”
I’m guessing he’s referring to his persistence in coercing me to go on a date with him. Hmm. Maybe I should run for the hills.
“That you are,” I reply, earning a mischievous smirk. Those really look nice on him.
“It’s served me well. Especially leading up to tonight.”
“One date,” I remind him.
“That remains to be seen. If you ask me, I think we may just be cut out for each other.”
Perhaps he’s right. Perhaps we may in fact be right for each other. I am endearingly attracted to all things Luke, it appears. At least from what I’ve been able to learn in the short time we’ve know each other. Which really hasn’t been very long at all.
“Perhaps.” Luke may act on instinct, but I, on the other hand, need solid proof.
“I bet if you found out more about me, you’d like what you saw. I know we don’t have a lot of time, so we could pretend to be on one of those speed-dating dates. I ask a question, you ask a question. No rules.”
“Okay. That sounds like fun.” Rose’s stories have left me apprehensive about this sort of thing. She’s met some less than stellar men, so they don’t seem to produce any lasting results for her. But I’ll give Luke a chance.
“Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“So, what I’m really, really dying to know is where you’re most ticklish.”
Well, that’s different. Not the question I expected, at all, but not surprising either from this guy.
“Kind of everywhere, but especially around my belly button.” I squirm just thinking about it. He smiles like he just got an idea. Possibly a naughty one. “You?”
“Below my ear.”
I make a mental note. I could use it to my advantage.
“Okay, my turn.” I try to think of a question that’s as unexpected as his was, but can’t come up with anything better than, “Are you a morning person or a night owl?”
“Definitely a morning person. I like to get my morning started bright and early. Get on with the day. That’s when Elise and I normally go out for a run.” So he is a runner. I remember the way his muscles felt under my hand at dinner on Friday night. I remember won
dering how he got so fit. I’d like to feel the weight of those muscles on top of me, skin on skin. Focus!
“How about you?”
“I’m not really a morning person.” I grin. “I kind of like my sleep. But still, I stick with morning runs too. They’re energizing, and part of my routine.”
“We should do it together sometime.”
“That would be nice.” Yes, so very nice. Running together. Seeing him breathing hard. Sweaty. Focused. While we take a detour. Oh my gosh, what is wrong with me?
“My turn.” Luke’s obviously not thinking of detours. “The most spontaneous thing you’ve ever done?”
“Hmm, that’s a tough question.”
“Really?”
“It is. For me.”
“Because you like your lists.” I know he’s teasing, but I don’t mind it.
“I do like my lists. I think I was more spontaneous when I was younger. Though Clara was the impetus for most of it. I normally just followed suit.” Not sure where that Tessa disappeared to over the years.
“We’ll have to do something about those lists of yours.”
“You don’t ever make any?” He shakes his head. “For the love of cupcakes, how do you keep your life organized?”
He laughs. “I guess I just do what makes sense in the moment. It may get a bit messy at times, but ultimately, things line up and work out as intended.”
“That’s an interesting perspective. Have they? Worked out, I mean.”
He thinks for a moment. “For the most part.” But there’s a hint of hesitation when he says it. I wonder why. “But back to the question. Anything?”
Now I’m the one thinking for a moment. I know exactly what it is. And I’m about to admit it … then hope I can escape unnoticed. “Fine. The movie. Your magic fingers.” I feel myself blushing.