What If

Me: I want to be good for you, Jessie. I know that might sound strange so soon from someone, but it’s the honest to God truth. I’m proud of you. You got it done.

Jessie: Thank you.

Me: How do you like your coffee? Do you drink coffee?

Jessie: Yes. Double cream, double sugar. But decaf, I’m not good with caffeine.

Me: Good girl. Now finish getting ready and come down. I’d love to come up, but I don’t want to make you nervous, and the truth is, if I come up there’s no way you are getting to work on time. So, I will show some restraint. For now.

Jessie: You don’t need to drive me to work. I usually walk, it’s fine. I like to walk.

Me: I like to drive you. So today, I win, okay? I’m coming to get you. And I’m bringing breakfast remember.

Jessie: lol, okay, I’ll get ready and see you in a bit.

I hit the drive through at the coffee shop closest to her place, ordering coffee and Danish and fruit, and then park outside her building. I look up at the windows, wondering which apartment is hers and pissed that someone might be able to look inside and see her.

I’ll make sure she has blinds on all her windows and triple locks on her door. That creep from last night gave me a hinky vibe, the way he looked at her and touched her. My blood still boils when I think of how that entitled little fuck ran his hand up the inside of her leg.

He’s lucky I didn’t end his life right there because I wanted to.

Sitting outside her building, I’m excited and nervous like some high school kid having his first crush.

I get out of my truck and lean against the side, setting the two paper cups of coffee down on the hood. I’m trying to play it cool, but this girl has my heart tap dancing in my chest. All my cool feels like it’s draining out of my toes, which is new for me.

In my work, I’m always calm. Cool. In control.

While we talked last night, I asked her about her family. About lots of different things. It was like I couldn’t get enough information. I want to know every thought that spins through that beautiful head of hers.

Her father died when she was just ten in a car accident. She said he mother is remarried but didn’t sound all that enthused about talking about her and her stepdad. I didn’t press, but deep down I want to know the good and the bad.

I want to know what scares her and chase it away. I want to know her favorite food and learn to cook it better than she’s ever had. I want to know her dreams, her problems, tell her jokes and hear her laugh every day.

Because I see her in my every day.

When she finally comes out the front door of her apartment building, my knees nearly buckle. She’s wearing this cute as hell red wrap dress with a jean jacket. Her crazy blonde hair is up in a ponytail that bounces and bobs along with her boobs every step she takes toward me, and she has one of those neoprene laptop cases tucked under her arm, making her look like the sexiest writer chick the world ever saw.

I don’t know how it’s possible, but I’m afraid I’m already falling in love with her.

Fallen in love. Past tense.

The thought thrills and terrifies me. Poor girl, even if she’s not feeling the same as I am, for the first time in my life I understand the phrase, ‘won’t take no for an answer.’

She’s mine. I just need her to catch up.

“You look amazing Blossom.” I hand her the cup of coffee and lean down and take her mouth, slipping my tongue across her glossy pink lips and feeling my dick twitching under my zipper.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” She blushes, and the hint of uncertainty in her eyes makes me want to steal her away and prove to her how real this is for me.

“So, I’ll drop you at work. What time do you get off?”

“I work until two. But then I should come back here and work some more. I hit my deadline last night, but when you’re an independent author, there are no days off. There’s always work to do.”

I feel pride swelling in my chest. “That makes me happy. You seem like you like what you do.”

“I do. It’s a lot of work, and it’s a job. You have to get up and do the work every day. It’s hard, but I’m lucky to make my living doing something I love.”

I step to open the door and help her up into the cab of the truck, watching her amazing ass as she does. As we drive to the bakery, she drinks her coffee, and I push the cakes and fruit in her direction. That’s another thing I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer on. She needs to eat, and I intend to make sure she does.