“Do you think we still have anything in common?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I think it’s pretty obvious we both have hot tempers.”
I smile. “Yes.”
“And I’m hungry and tired because I didn’t sleep much last night,” he smiles.
“Me too,” I whisper.
He holds up his arm for me to take.“I think that’s a good start don’t you?”
I nod and link my arm with his.
“Let’s go.” I smile. I feel better already. His eyes twinkle as he gives me a warm smile, one that could melt the whole of Antarctica, and I instantly feel at ease. The unseen tension has immediately disappeared and we have both noticeably relaxed. Honesty. He wants honesty. As soon as I told him I was nervous the tension disappeared. I need to remember this for future reference. We head down the stairs.
“How long have you owned the apartment?”
“Um, about six months I guess,” I answer.
“It’s a nice place.” His eyes wander around the cream room with high ceilings. The large taupe lounge wraps around in a horseshoe shape. A huge cane pendant light hangs low over the industrial coffee table and thick pile rug. “You have good taste.”
“Thanks,” I smile nervously at him.
Half an hour later we are arriving at my favourite café, waiting to be seated by one of the waitresses. I can’t help but notice the amount of attention Joshua gets from the female population. Every woman is taking a double look at him but he doesn’t even seem to notice. I’m sure he is used to this. I, however, am finding it a little annoying. I suppose it’s not every day you see a six foot four muscled–up man whose chiselled jaw, olive skin and chocolate buzz–cut hair screams Do Me. A pretty redhead shows us to our seat.
“Would you like to order some drinks?” She looks from me to him and back again.
“Yes I’ll have a tall latte, double shot,” he smiles.
“I’ll have a skim cap please.” She scribbles on her pad and leaves us alone.
He rests his elbows on the table and links his hands together under his chin, waiting for me to speak first. His eyes have a mischievous glow to them.
“So Josh, tell me about your life?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “What do you want to know?”
“I hear you’re wealthy.”
He smiles, “In some things.”
I tilt my head on the side, “What do you mean?”
“Well, I have money. It depends on your definition of wealthy.”
“Oh, I suppose. What’s your definition?” I ask, surprised.
He shrugs again. “Happily married, healthy kids.”
Smiling, I rest my chin on one hand while I find myself swooning at his feet. “Are you dating?” I ask.
He scrunches up his nose, “Hell no.” Our drinks arrive and the waitress’s eyes linger a little long on Mr Orgasmic here. I narrow my eyes at her. Ok, enough, buzz off.
“You,” I frown.
“Huh.”
“Are you dating?” I ask .