by H.T. Night
In about five minutes, Donovan opened the back door to his house to get to the patio. He had two pink smoothies that were in see-through glasses that allowed me to see the color. He had even put cute little umbrellas in the smoothies. He looked out and saw me sitting cross-legged on his trampoline. “Do you want to drink your smoothies on the trampoline?” Donovan called out.
“Only if you also join me on the trampoline?”
“I have to admit,” Donovan said, “I have never eaten on the trampoline, let alone drunk one of my smoothies on it. This might be a little bit different.”
He walked over to the trampoline and kicked off his brown shoes before he got on. “Oh, thank you for taking off your high heels,” Donovan said.
“Of course,” I said.
Donovan smiled at me and he squinted his eyes against the sun and looked as hot as any man had looked, ever. He handed me one of the smoothies he was holding.
“Thank you,” I said. I set it on the trampoline and used the trampoline to hold my drink. I was praying it wouldn’t spill all over Donovan’s trampoline.
Donovan did the same thing. “I sure hope they don’t spill,” Donovan said. Once he scooted his chair even closer to me, we were about three inches apart.
He leaned back in his looked back toward the sun, and this time, he did it with his eyes closed.
I was trying not to be awe of this guy’s looks. That was so not me. But this dude was insane looking. I’m attracted to men like Donovan, but I don’t where it goes from there. I’m not just going to sleep with him and be a one night stand.
“So, do you own this house,” I asked, trying to stop focusing on things that haven’t happened yet.
“It was my parents’ house. They died when I was ten years old. I was sent to foster care, and when I was eighteen, the house was mine, and so was a little bit of cash.”
“Your parents died when you were ten?”
“Yeah,” Donovan said, trying to not to allow himself to get emotional. He didn’t strike me as a guy who would ever just break down and cry.
“Did they die at the same time?” I asked. It was a morbid question, but I was a morbid girl.
“No, it was at different times.”
“But both happened when you were ten?”
“Yeah,” Donovan said. He gave me a look as if to say ‘let’s change the subject.’
“How old are you?” I asked.
“How old do I look?” Donovan asked. He got this question a lot and he liked to say, ‘How old do I look?’ and women would say twenty or twenty-one because he could pass for that age. But I was smarter than the average person when it came to reading age. Why? No idea. But I could usually almost get it on the dot.
“I want to preface this by saying,” I said, “I have two answers on how old you look.”
“Go on. I’m fascinated,” Donovan said. Of course he was. We were just focusing on him at the gym, and I had listened to the gossip.
“Okay, just going on your skin, face and body. I would say twenty-one. But going by the deepness of your eyes, I can see years. So, I say you’re twenty-seven.”
“Wow, twenty-seven. That is the oldest age anyone has ever guessed.” Donovan was insulted.
“I said twenty-one, too,” I said trying to specify that I had two answers.
“Basically, you said on first glance, you’d say twenty.”
“Twenty-one,” I said correcting him playfully. I was pressing some buttons. This was a little more fun than I thought it would be.
“But you said after seeing me up close, you now say I look twenty-seven. So, that means up close, I have never looked older.”
“Do you see how crazy that sounds?” I said to Donovan. “You are older. So every day should be the oldest day you have ever looked. Lifting weights and dieting doesn’t make you actually go into the fountain of youth.”
“I know,” Donovan said honestly. “The answer to your question is twenty-nine. You guessed my age, only two years younger.”
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. This guy was upset at me for an age that was still younger than what he was. This just might be the biggest prima donna I had ever run across. He might be a little high maintenance, but there was something else about him. He was a lot more complex than people gave him credit for. What I gave him credit for.
“Well, are you going to try my smoothie?” he asked.
I looked at Donovan and he was too calm to have put anything weird in it. I took a sip and it was sweet and tangy. Wow, it tasted incredible. It tasted like a smoothie sweet tart. “This is good for you?” I asked.
“Yes, only made with natural ingredients and no added sugar.”
“That’s amazing.” I tasted the smoothie again and it tasted even better the second time. “Donovan, this is really good. And you say this is your own special recipe?”
“Mine and nature’s.”
“Wow, you need to get this patented and on the market. It’s incredible.”
“Thanks,” Donovan said. He actually seemed a little embarrassed that I liked his drink so much. That surprised me. I thought he would act arrogant about it, but instead, he acted extremely humble.
“What time do you go to work?” Donovan asked.
“8:30,” I said.
Donovan pulled out his cell phone and said, “Well that gives us around twenty minutes to chat. Do you want to bring the smoothies into the living room?”
“We can chat out here just as easily as inside,” I said, not allowing him to get me inside his home. Who knew what kind of sexual superpowers this guy had? I’d probably have my panties off the second I entered the door.
“Okay,” Donovan said. “Do you mind if I take off my shirt? I’m a little a hot.”
You’re a lot hot, I thought. I didn’t see any harm in it. I mean, I needed some kind of reward for not just running into his house and sleeping with him the first time I came over.
“I don’t mind,” I said.
Donovan then did one of the hottest things any man had ever done to me without realizing they were doing it. He probably knew he was doing it, but still it was hotter than hell. Donovan stood up on his knees while still on the trampoline. Because we were sitting so close together. His stomach was at my face level. Donovan then slowly and methodically unbuttoned his shirt. And his insane abdominal muscles were about two inches from my face and boy, did this guy smell good. He sat down again. He was just wearing his light blue jeans and white socks.
I leaned back and felt extremely overdressed. But these clothes were staying on.
“What are your passions, Sahara?” Donovan asked.
“What exactly do you mean?” I asked.
“Instead of asking someone what they like to do, I like to ask what their passions are. You tend to hear amazing stories. It makes for much better chit-chat.” Donovan smiled at me and his answer surprised me. But I would answer his question.
“My passions include many things. Not one passion defines me, but yet they all blend together to make up who I am,” I said.
“That’s a vague, beautiful answer,” Donovan joked. “Give me one of the things that defines you.”
“I paint pictures. Lots of pictures. If I could do it for a living, I would. I have half-finished ones on my walls, too. Someday, I will finish them all, but I enjoy the process as much as the result.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” he said.
I looked over at Donovan and he seemed genuinely interested. I didn’t know how much of this was a spell, or if he was even under a spell anymore. Of course he was. The hottest guy in Orange County had asked me over to his house for a smoothie. Like that happens to me every day.
I decided I would put this spell to the test. “So, Donovan, why did you ask me over today?”
“Like I said, I have seen you before in the gym. You remind me of someone who meant a lot to me a very long time ago. So, I guess you could say I’ve been crushing on you from afar. But I never saw the chance to come up to
you and introduce myself. So, when I saw you in high heels wearing a sexy black lace dress, trying to do a two-handed dumbbell behind the neck pull up...”
“The exercise I was doing is called all that?”
“Something like that. They change the names to workouts constantly. Anyway...so, when I saw you dressed for success and you needed a spotter, I jumped up at the chance. I knew it was an easy way to meet you.”
I was mesmerized that this beautiful man was talking about me. It was hard not to get caught up. He sounded so honest. I would think his voice would be cheesy and everything he would say to me sounded like a really bad pick-up line. Instead, he made smoothies and was an orphan at ten. I was captivated by him. I wanted to kiss him. But how did I kiss this guy and just show him it’s one kiss? He was probably so slick that the second our tongues touched, he’d be undoing my bra strap. I knew I had to wait till goodbye and even with that, I was taking a chance. There was no certainty that he would be going in for a kiss.
“I think I should head off to work,” I said, surprising myself. I guess I wanted to see if that kiss goodbye was going to happen. I stood up and walked to the door of his house. As I entered the inside, I scurried to the front door. I knew if he just touched me inside his house, I couldn’t be accountable for what would happen next. I got to the door and opened it. I walked over to my car door.
I could hear Donovan following behind me.
I stopped by the driver side of my Mazda. I turned around rather sheepishly, not knowing how close behind me Donovan was. He was a good four feet. Perfect distance. Not too close and not too far.
“Thanks for the delicious smoothie,” I said.
“You could have taken it with you and enjoyed on the way to work. I can go back and grab it?”
“No, don’t do that. I mean your smoothie was out-of-this-world delicious. But I just need to get going, but I had a lovely time. I really did.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not some predator who devours women.”
“No, you’re not. You are quite a gentleman.”
“Is there any other way to be?”
“Trust me, the way you look on the outside, you could be the poster boy for the way it shouldn’t be. But you surprised me and I’m sorry for judging a very beautiful book by its cover.”
Donovan and my eyes met. He was barely two inches taller than me so we were practically eye to eye. I didn’t care. He was just as beautiful on eye level.
Donovan stepped into me and took both my hands. It was a very sweet, safe gesture. He stepped closer and gave me a very gentle kiss that lasted about three seconds. It was nice. A little passionate. A little innocent.
But very nice.
Chapter Seventeen