“Since this isn’t a date, I didn’t feel the need to get out candles, but I do have wine and the nice glasses are clean,” he said as he took the truffle mushroom pizza out of the oven. He also had a gorgeous chopped salad, but he wouldn’t tell me what dessert was.
“I also have this,” he said, moving over to a cabinet, which revealed a classy stereo with speakers that I’d noticed around the apartment. He hit a button and a song I wasn’t familiar with surrounded me. It almost reminded me of the Beatles.
“What is this?” I said as he poured me a glass of wine.
“‘Brighter than Sunshine’ by Aqualung,” he said with a smile as we took the pizza over to the couch. He had a dining table, but that felt too much like a date. I’d rather be comfortable.
“It’s nice. I like it,” I said after I’d listened to a little more of the song. I sipped the wine. It was light and crisp and went well with everything else.
“So where’s your guitar?” I said as I munched on my salad.
“In my music room.”
I almost choked on a cucumber.
“Music room?”
“Yeah, it’s right over there,” he said, pointing with his fork at one of the doors I hadn’t been behind yet.
“I’d really like to see it,” I said.
“Well, I’d love to see your apartment. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” I rolled my eyes.
“You’ve already seen mine. Several times.”
“Yes, I’ve seen your body, but you’re more than just your body. A lot more. And I’d like to see it.”
“That sounds awfully like something a guy who wants to date me would say.” I pointed my fork at him and he shook his head.
“No. It’s not a boyfriend thing that I want to get to know you. That could just be me wanting to get to know you. Not so I can date you, just so I can know you.”
He was fumbling and it sounded like bullshit to me, but I was going to let it go.
The song changed and I recognized Bobby Darin’s, ‘Beyond the Sea’. Very classy.
We started the pizza and it was amazing. I would have to tell Sloane about this so she could make it.
Or maybe not. Then I’d have to tell her about the nights-only arrangement and we’d already agreed to keep this on the down low. God, this was complicated. But when he reached out and wiped some cheese off my chin, then winked and licked it off his thumb while my stomach did little flips, I knew that maybe it would be worth it.
Once we were stuffed, we sat on the couch with my head on his shoulder and sipped wine. The music kept playing and it was . . . eclectic. I’d heard Queen, Adele, Simple Minds, The Black Keys, Cole Porter and Jamie N Commons and a bunch of others that I didn’t know well enough to name.
“What’s for dessert?” I asked.
“You.” I pinched his non-pierced nipple with my fingernails.
“Bad girl. We’re having s’mores.”
“Really?” I hadn’t had one of those in a very long time.
“I mean, unless you don’t like s’mores in which case, there’s the door.” He pointed and his face was serious.
“You mean to tell me that if I didn’t like s’mores, you’d kick me out?” I raised my eyebrow.
“I don’t want anyone in my house who doesn’t like s’mores.”
“Well, it’s a good thing for you that I do.”
“Thank God.” He motioned for me to let him up and went back to the kitchen as the song changed again to Muse’s ‘Starlight’.