Chapter 13
13
W e are flirting. I did ask for his number to flirt with him, but I wasn’t anticipating us to be flirting so much and so fast.
“I paid attention to you too,” I say, then sip my grapefruit juice. “You went to state all four years in wrestling. You’re very smart—especially in calculus, but …” I pause, thinking. “I don’t know where you went to college.”
“I didn’t.” He shrugs. “It wasn’t for me.”
“So, what did you do after high school?”
“A lot of things that affirmed I’m not a career guy. I’m never going to be a career guy.”
He takes a bite of his pancakes, and I’m trying not to judge him, but being a forever bartender is not the sexiest thing.
“My version of the American dream …” he says after finishing a bite, “is rooted in health. Our society doesn’t value their health at all.” He chuckles to himself. “Hot take, I know. But health is wealth, as they say. That’s what I like about the bar. I’m moving around. I’m standing. I’d go crazy if I sat in a chair all day.”
“I feel that. I have to be moving around too. It’s more for my creative brain, though.”
“It’s also nice to do something real, something tangible rather than stare at a screen and live more in a digital world than the real one.”
I smile, deleting the judgment I’d just passed on him. He knows who he is, and he knows what he wants. That’s sexy. “We have so much in common.” I smile.
“That we’re both good with our hands?”
“Very risqué for brunch, Aaron,” I whisper with a growing blush on my cheeks.
He chuckles, and it’s sending me. Our chemistry. It’s there.
As we finish our meal, I note that he ate every single bite on his plate.
“Nicholas and I had a little competition going for last night,” he says, picking up on me staring at his plate.
“Oh?”
“Sorry to disappoint. I'm not usually that leaned out. I barely touched carbs the past month. We were both cutting.”
“You two definitely took the competition seriously,” I manage, trying everything I can to not think about him shirtless.
“I take everything I do seriously,” he says, fucking dangerously.
Our server drops the check on the table, and he grabs it. I’m still reeling from all of this flirtation.
“Cash?” I say, surprised he didn’t plop down a credit card and instead counts out the perfect amount with a generous tip.
“For small businesses, I always pay in cash. You should get that.”
“Losing three percent on each transaction definitely adds up.” I smile at how he’s thoughtful and considerate. “Thanks for brunch.”
“You’re a great date.” He smiles. “Let me walk you back.”
“Such a gentleman,” I quip while standing from the booth.
He grabs my hand, this time interlacing his fingers with mine. He’s holding my hand with more confidence than before. As we walk, we look at each other, exchanging little smiles. Am I going to invite him up? I want to, but I also don’t want to rush this.
“I really enjoyed that,” Aaron says as we approach my studio.
“Me too.” I smile, staring up at him.
We stand there, holding hands, our eyes glued to each other. My lips signal exactly what I’m thinking as they part, begging for him to kiss me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, gently pulling me toward him.
I’m going to do it—kiss Aaron Olson.
His full lips press into mine at that perfect pressure, the one that makes you want to slide your tongue right in, the one that makes you want to keep going and never stop. It’s been too long since I’ve kissed anyone, longer still since I’ve felt this way from a kiss. It’s perfect, until he pulls away.
“Aaron Olson,” I breathe, nearly commanding him to come back.
“Sarah Anderson,” he growls. “Let me take you out for dinner.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Sunday and Monday are my weekends,” he shares.
“Where are we going?” I ask, smiling and wanting to kiss him again.
“La Nonna.”
“Fancy.”
“You’re fancy.”
“You’re right.” I smile
“7:00 p.m.,” he breathes, leaning back into me.
I wrap both hands around his neck, feeling the heat between us intensify. This time, I want to kiss him for far longer than the first go around. His lips meet mine again, and I lose myself in the sensation, feeling weak in the knees. My heart rate soars as he squeezes my waist, pulling me into his hard body. I taste the sweet syrup on his tongue and consciously hold back from mauling him, not letting my touch escalate this scene past a great make out on Main Street.
“7:00 p.m.,” I softly say, pulling away.
He leans right back in, placing a baby kiss on my lips, then smiles.
“Now I know why you won’t tell me who my secret admirer is.”
“Why’s that?” He tilts his head, his smile still glued on his face.
“You don’t want the competition.”
“Something like that,” he says with a smolder in his eyes that makes me want to rip his jacket and shirt right off. But we can wait. Watching him walk away, my heart is racing with excitement, and I text the BFF group chat.
Sarah Anderson
I just kissed Aaron Olson …
Rachel Wagner
What?!
Emily Brown
Details! Now!
Sarah Anderson
He came to the studio, asked me to lunch … and we made out in front of my studio.
Emily Brown
And?
Sarah Anderson
And it was good enough for me to agree to a second date. It’s tomorrow at La Nonna.
Rachel Wagner
OOO! He likes you!
Emily Brown
Tres fancy!