We Have Till Dawn

“I have a minor obsession with ice cream sundaes,” I offered.

I caught his mouth twisting with mirth in the reflection of his window.

“I’ve seen the bowls in your sink,” he said. “Doesn’t look like a minor obsession.”

I chuckled.

The streets blurred together in streaks of red, yellow, and green for the next few minutes as we shared likes and dislikes about “insignificant” things. He was a fan of taking long walks in the park with his dog; I was a fan of any day I didn’t have to take the subway. His favorite season was the fall, and so was mine. He hated white wine but loved red. And chocolate; he really, really loved chocolate, but he didn’t let himself have it often.

I hated wine, loved beer, loved chocolate, loved cookies—okay, I had a big sweet tooth—and I spent way too much money on sweet slices of heaven at Milk Bar. Gideon had never heard of the place, and the words were right there on the tip of my tongue, to offer to take him there…

Should I?

Pump the brakes a little.

I could compromise. “I’ll pick up a box that we can share in bed when we’ve burned off a lotta calories this weekend.”

He nodded once. “I’d like that very much.”

His response was so formal, but I was getting better at understanding his signals now. He was struggling with the boundaries, struggling against them to do what he really wanted, and I had to admit that was why I wanted to break the damn rules. I could see sometimes that he was forcing himself to hold back, and I hated it. I wanted more for him.

He was more than just a client.

“Would you like me to turn, sir, or is it okay here?” the driver asked.

I glanced out and noticed we were here. The light was red, and we had time to jump out.

“Here’s fine,” Gideon responded. “I’ll text when we’re ready to leave.”

“Yes, sir.”

We left the car, and Gideon shut the door before he gestured up the sidewalk. “It’s the storefront that glows green.”

There could be only one spot on the otherwise dead street, and I wrinkled my nose automatically. It looked to be a small spot and hardly what one might call cozy, not that I’d expected it. Sterile was more appropriate. We walked closer, and all I could see was pristine white, lime-green booths, lime-green paint swirls on the walls, and the brightest of spotlights.

“You will notice how clean it is,” Gideon said with a smile. “There isn’t a grain of salt left behind on a single table. The minute you vacate your spot, someone cleans it.”

Okay, so while the colors didn’t seem to be up Gideon’s alley, the cleanliness sure as hell was.

Gideon reached the door before I did, and he held it open for me.

It was a small establishment, with maybe ten or so booths and a counter with half a dozen stools, and the menu had a lot in common with any other fast-food joint. Except for it being more expensive here. A regular cheeseburger went for $12.99. Free soda with any purchase over five bucks, though!

“What would you like?” Gideon asked. “I can highly recommend the sliders and any fries.”

Any fries… There were four kinds to choose from. Regular, steakhouse, battered, and curly, and you could choose to have them loaded or plain.

“I’ll try the loaded regular ones, I think,” I decided. “I had a big dinner at my grandmother’s place, so I’m not very hungry.”

“Loaded regular—excellent choice. Soda with that?” He stepped forward to order, and I requested a medium Coke.

There was only one other couple in here.

It was gonna be interesting to see what Gideon’s agenda was. I grabbed some napkins, ketchup, and two straws from the condiment counter, then picked a booth in the middle. Something had triggered this change of plan of his, and I was wondering if it’d been my talk of chemistry and being interested. One could at least hope we’d talk more.

I assumed we came from two different worlds, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends at the end of this arrangement.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as a small voice in the back of my hopelessly romantic mind went, “Or maybe more.”

It was dumb.

Tina hadn’t been joking about my sad Facebook statuses. I didn’t hate being single to the point where I’d jump into a relationship for the sake of it—far from it—but I was lonely. I hadn’t been in a relationship in over a year.

Gideon tugged at my desire to have someone to take care of. I couldn’t describe it in any other way than…it had to be chemistry. Because it wasn’t something I’d felt with clients in the past.

When he came over with a tray and his eyes were glued to the fries, I couldn’t help but smile. He wasn’t watching his step or anything. It was all about the fries.