Lost In Me (Here and Now 1)

“You know he really likes you,” Max says. “He’s just doesn’t think you’d take him seriously.”

Liz shakes her head and turns to me with a mischievous smile. “I’m out of here. You two have a nice night.”

Then she leaves, and Max and I are left alone for the Valentine’s Day dinner I cooked for him. I liked the idea of being here and drinking too much wine. Maybe then I could get over myself enough to let him touch me. The high-school-caliber groping we have going on is nice, but I know Max is ready for more.

I take the flowers into the kitchen, where I’ve already set the small table for our dinner.

“It smells amazing in here,” he says. “What are we having?”

“Filet mignon with green beans and a fresh French baguette and then chocolate lava cake for dessert.” I fill a vase with water and arrange the roses in it before setting it on the table. When I turn around, Max is right there, his face inches from mine.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispers. He lowers his mouth to mine in a kiss so sweet my nerves fizzle away. And maybe it’s how good he smells or the fact that I already had a big glass of wine before he got here. Or maybe it’s because I’m standing and don’t feel as self-conscious about my body like this. But when his hands find the hem of my sweater and slide under, I don’t stop him.

He breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against mine, his eyes closed and lips parted a fraction of an inch as he cups my breast in his hand and grazes his thumb over my nipple. The contact makes my knees weak and I have to curl my hands into the thick muscle of his shoulders to keep myself upright.

“So we have the place to ourselves tonight?” he whispers.

Something thick lodges in my throat at his question and nerves flare back to life in my belly. “Yeah.”

“Do you want to have dinner first or can I give you your present?”

“I thought the flowers were my present.”

He grins and points to a gift bag sitting by the door. “I got you something else too.”

“You really didn’t have to.”

He retrieves the bag and watches me carefully as I open it.

“Oh.” It’s pretty much the last thing I’d want him to buy me.

“Do you like it?”

“I…” I force a smile but it hurts when I want to die of mortification. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” And it is. The silky gold material of the lingerie slip is rose-petal soft in my hands and beautiful against my skin.

“I know you’re not ready yet. I don’t want you to think I’m pushing you. But I saw it and I thought of you. You’d look gorgeous in it.”

“Thank you,” I repeat, dropping it back into the bag. I have to turn away from him. I can’t let him know how horrified I am by the idea of him seeing me in that slip. I don’t want him to see the parts of me that would be on display in it or to know how un-sexy a girl like me looks in lingerie.

I go back to the kitchen and busy myself with the steaks.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks behind me. “Was that too much too soon or…?”

“No,” I assure him. “You’re wonderful. This is perfect.” But the awkward silence as I get our meals on the table speaks volumes to how not-perfect this night is shaping up to be.

“Want me to pour some wine?” he asks as I take our plates to the table.

My shoulders drop in relief. Wine is just the Band-Aid we need here. “That would be wonderful.”

He pours us each a full glass and we sit and stare awkwardly at our food. “I’m sorry about the lingerie. It’s probably too soon for that.”

Shit. I’ve ruined this. I keep reminding myself that I can’t have it both ways. I can’t be with Max in every way I want to and keep hiding my body from him. “I’m kind of…insecure,” I blurt.

Looking up from his plate, he softens. “I noticed.” He isn’t cruel about it. It isn’t an accusation—more of a sympathetic understanding.

“I saw the slip and instantly thought about how much I didn’t want you to see me in it.” God, that’s terrible to admit.

“Hanna…” He exhales heavily. “I don’t know what to say. I wouldn’t have bought it for you if I didn’t want to see you wear it.”