Kissing My Dad's Friend

The address Russ gave me isn’t too far away though, a straight shot from here down to Chelsea. And I arrive in the station just in time to catch an express train. I hop onto it and take a seat as we speed downtown, trying to guess where we might be headed.

I could have just googled the address he sent me, but where would be the fun in that? Last time I was pleasantly surprised by where we ended up. I have a feeling tonight could be the same.

So I resist the urge to cheat, and I show up to our date half an hour later, completely unprepared. I follow the map directions out of the subway station and a couple blocks over, only to find myself standing outside the doors of a high-rise. I stare up at it, my jaw falling open. Does Russ live here? I realize I’ve never been over to his house, although I’ve heard him talk about having a place downtown. Does Chelsea count as downtown? I’m never sure where the line lives exactly.

As I’m gazing up at the building, a warm hand comes to rest on the small of my back, and someone leans down close to my ear. “New dress, hmm? I like this one even better.”

Just the sound of Russ’s low, baritone voice is enough to warm my blood and set my heart skipping in my chest. I smile, without even meaning to. It’s automatic whenever he’s close to me—and he’s very close now, his hand warm through the thin fabric of my dress, his breath a hot tickle against my earlobe.

I turn to face him, and his eyes light up when they meet mine. He sweeps an appreciative look over me, his smile widening as he takes in every inch of me.

“Maybe it’s just me, but I could swear you get sexier every time I see you,” he says, leaning down, one finger reaching up to crook under my chin, so he tilts my face toward his.

“What do they say? Like a fine wine, I just get better with age,” I reply, a grin on my face.

Then his lips find mine, and I’m too distracted to think up more witty comebacks. I sink into him, let his lips part mine, his mouth hot and firm where mine is soft, supple. He cradles my face between his hands like I’m something fragile, a delicate flower he doesn’t want to hurt.

I love that. But I love it when he’s rough even more. I nip at his lower lip, and he chuckles into our kiss, his voice going low and gravelly when he draws back to respond.

“Don’t get me too excited, too soon, Maggie, or we’ll have to skip this entire date.”

My breath stops in my chest at the way he looks at me then. Like he’d like nothing better than to pull me into a dark corner and have me, right here and now. I recognize the look. He’s worn it often enough in the hospital corridors, right before he does just that.

“Is the date visiting your apartment?” I ask, crooking one eyebrow as I glance back at the building next to us.

He chuckles and loops an arm around my waist, turning me toward the double doors. “I live in Soho. This is just a visit to a friend I’d like you to meet.”

At the word friend, my feet stutter in my kitten heels, so much that I have to reach up to brace myself against Russ’s shoulder to stay on my feet. “Um… is that a good idea?” I ask, forcing my legs to start working again, as I follow him into the building.

The doorman in the corner waves and tells us to take the first elevator. The doors ping open then, and Russ steps inside. There are no buttons. No hint of where we might be headed.

“Don’t worry,” Russ murmurs, probably sensing the tension in every inch of my muscles. “This is not a mutual friend of your father’s or anything. Like I keep telling you, I have parts of my life they know nothing about.”

“Okay,” I reply slowly, trying to force myself to relax a little. Then it dawns on me. He wants me to meet a friend of his? Does that mean this is more serious than just a hookup?

I’ve been feeling that way, but I’ve been too afraid to ask him how he really feels, or what he expects out of this. I’m worried that if I ask, he’ll tell me it is just a hookup, and then I won’t be able to keep doing it, because… fuck. I am starting to have feelings for him, damn it. Real ones.

I swallow back the sudden realization and force myself to keep my head in the moment. Just enjoy where you are, Maggie. Stop overthinking everything. Lord knows I’m the champion of overthinking.