Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
CALVIN
“Calvin, relax. It’s just a date.” Shameka’s voice sounds from the video call. “Just be you and you’ll be fine.”
Easy for her to say. She’s already impressed her husband enough that he married her. Their first date was at a skating rink, for fuck’s sake. She’s been out of the game for too long to give me advice.
“Meka,” I grumble as I add eyeliner. “You’re not helping.”
“I am, toots. I’m telling you to take a breath and wear what you want.
If he’s uncomfortable with your style, he’s not right for you anyway.
I, for one, think that outfit will look amazing on you.
What’s the point of buying it if you’re not going to wear it for a night on the town?
Especially with a fine man on your arm.”
She’s right, but Atlas has only seen me in baggy scrubs. He probably thinks that’s my style, but it’s far from that. I like bright colors, pants that hug my body, and shirts that show off the naturally lean body I thank the heavens for often.
But the few men I’ve stepped out with actually told me my clothes were too loud, drawing too much attention. A man wearing a flowy skirt was something they weren’t ready for.
Is that how Atlas is? It would hurt if he was, what with how much we click and how off the charts our chemistry is. But I refuse to let anyone dim my shine. If he doesn’t like it, that’ll be his loss because I’m a fucking catch.
Squaring my shoulders, I look at Meka. “You’re right. Thanks for the pep talk.”
“Always. I have a good feeling about him, though. Don’t count him out before he even shows up.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say before I glide clear lip gloss across my full lips. My light brown skin glows under the lights of my vanity, the mascara making my brown eyes pop. “If he hates what I wear, I’ll go out on my own. There are a few clubs nearby.”
“Shoot me a text and I’ll join you.”
We bid each other goodbye and I turn to my outfit of the night. It’s not a skirt, but it’s tight, a little revealing and gorgeous. Hopefully, it’ll knock Atlas’s socks off.
Like he said he would, he came to my house the last few days of my shift to take me to work and drive me back home. He always arrived with coffee—made perfectly—and a smile. Also a warm kiss that almost made me beg for him to take me to bed.
He also brought me lunch and spent the few minutes I had free with me. We would continue whatever we were talking about while texting, getting to know each other more.
Atlas is an interesting man. Since he’s older, I expected him to make me feel like I had no life experience, but he’s never done that. He makes me feel like we’re equals, even though he has close to fifteen years on me. Talking to him is very comfortable, very relaxing.
After Mitchell and walling myself off from real affection, it’s exactly what I need.
Butterflies dance in my belly as I grab the sky-blue shirt from my bed and pull it over my head. The soft material settles perfectly over me, not really clinging to my skin, but showing off enough of my body to draw attention. The deep V will definitely have him looking.
The black pants slide over my hips, showing my form and making my butt look really good. Will Atlas comment on it?
I scoff as I grab the lariat necklace from my dresser, the gemstones falling between my pecs and landing just above my sternum. Atlas is way too respectful to tell me my ass looks juicy in my jeans. Though in his deep, gravelly voice, it might turn me into a puddle at his feet if he did.
I’m just slipping on my ballet flats when my doorbell rings.
Nerves claw in my belly, but I push them down as I look at myself in my vanity mirror.
I turn left and right, making sure I look good, even though I’m nervous as fuck Atlas won’t like this side of me.
The makeup, the tight clothes, the bright colors.
This is me, but will he like what he sees?
The doorbell rings again and I let out a hard breath before I square my shoulders and head to the door.
When I open it, my eyebrows lift as I break out into laughter. Atlas has on a sky-blue shirt and black slacks with a pair of black dress shoes. It’s almost like we planned to match.
The laughter dies on my tongue as Atlas’s gaze drags over my body, his lips parted slightly. “Shit, Calvin. Look at you.”
He steps inside, his hands going to my waist as he walks me backward. He uses his foot to close the door, but doesn’t take his eyes off me.
When my back hits the wall opposite the door, Atlas presses closer to me, planting a soft kiss on my lips. He hums against me, one hand going from my waist to my ass, squeezing gently. I sigh and deepen the kiss. I have half a mind to tell him we can have takeout so I can kiss him all night.
Snatching his mouth away, Atlas steps back a little, looking down at my outfit. “You look amazing.” He looks back at me and thumbs my cheek. “What’s this?”
“Huh?” I ask, still dazed from the kiss.
“Here, on your cheek. It’s sparkly.”
“Oh, highlighter.”
He hums and kisses where his finger just was. “I love it. It looks beautiful on you.” He looks at me again and shakes his head. “How did I get so lucky?”
A flush blooms through my body and I lower my head, my nerves rising to the surface.
I wanted Atlas to like what he saw, but I think like might be too mild a word. He can barely keep his eyes off me and it’s almost unnerving, though it makes me preen under his attention.
Lacing my arms around his neck, I say, “Maybe we both got lucky. You look good tonight, Atlas.”
“Nah,” he offers me a charming smile. “You showed me up. You’re breathtaking.”
“Are we going to have our first argument about who can’t take a compliment?”
He breathes a throaty laugh and I feel my heart fucking melt. “No argument, as long as you take the compliment.”
I grin. “Fine, Mr. Sinclair.”
He gives me a look, then kisses the smile off my lips. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah, let me grab my clutch and we can go.”
After another quick but deep kiss, I hurry to my room to grab my clutch bag with my wallet inside.
We step outside into the warm night air and Atlas places a hand on the small of my back, leading me to his car. A smile creeps onto my face, and though I try to suppress it, it won’t be denied, so I let it bloom.
Taking my hand, Atlas helps me into the car and leans across me, clicking my seatbelt into place. He leans forward and tucks his face into my neck, breathing me in. “You even smell good.”
“Not as good as you.” He chuckles against my skin before planting a soft kiss there then shutting the car door.
He gets behind the wheel and pulls out of my neighborhood, heading for downtown.
“There’s this new fusion restaurant that has live music,” he says as he places a hand on my knee. “I thought we could go there, have a meal, maybe dance.”
He doesn’t pose it as a question and I like that he planned a date for us, especially with things I like.
During the course of getting to know each other, I told him I liked to dance and try new places. Atlas actually listening to what I say, as well as noticing the little things, will make me fall for him easily.
Maybe too easily.
I want to move past what Mitchell did, not making his mistakes mine, but it’s been hard. In the future, I want to love Atlas like I loved Mitchell—unguarded and fully. He’s making it so easy to do just that.
We pull up to the restaurant and it’s already pretty lively, people standing around outside tables, sipping drinks and having a good time.
As we approach, I can faintly hear the music seeping from inside. Thankfully, it’s not loud when we get in there—at a nice volume to enjoy, but low enough where we can have a conversation without yelling to be heard.
We’re led to our table a few minutes later, and Atlas pulls my chair out for me, making my cheeks heat. No one has ever done that before and it’s nicer than I imagined.
“Thank you,” I murmur as I adjust my chair.
“Of course.” He sits across from me, his eyes bouncing around my face. “Damn, I can’t get over how good you look.”
I tick up an eyebrow and ask, “Oh, I don’t look good in my scrubs?”
“You’ve looked good every time I’ve seen you, but this is different. You look professional in your scrubs, like you want to be comfortable and capable. Now…” Atlas’s eyes roam over my face. “Now you look like you’re dressed to steal someone’s heart.”
“The makeup doesn’t bother you? Or the clothes?” I hate how unsure I sound when normally I couldn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of me. But for some reason, it’s important that Atlas does.
He smiles and shakes his head, reaching his hand out to me. I take it, and he threads our fingers together. “Not at all. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
If my heart races any more, it might run away from me.
We chat about nothing major while we wait for our server to come, just checking in on each other’s day. Atlas has gone back to work, though I admonished him for only getting a few hours of sleep after he dropped me off.
“You could have hurt yourself,” I chide, giving him a look.
He waves me off. “I’m fine. I’ll catch up on sleep when you get back on day shift. Besides, I was supervising. North and the other guys were doing all the work today. I was in boss mode from my office, promise.”
“Are you tired now?”
“No. I’m used to only having a few hours of sleep a night.”
“Why?”
He shrugs, but before he ducks his eyes, I catch a look that says he’s not letting on to the full story. Hopefully one day he’ll trust me enough to tell me everything about himself.
“I don’t scare easily,” I tell him. With my past, I think I can pretty much handle everything. “You can tell me anything.”
He stares at me intently for a few beats and nods. “Mmm, maybe I can.”
Our server comes and we place our orders.