Epilogue Five Stars
Lydea
We better be doing that again tonight. Wherever this date takes us, I need us to end up right back here.
Yesterday I was nervous as I got ready for my date with Frank. A chill runs through my body as his image pops in my head. Loser.
Today, though, I’m excited. Champ’s going to show me a good time because what little I do know about him is that he’s very thoughtful. I’m not going in with expectations, not because I’m scared he won’t live up to them, but more like I don’t think I can imagine what we’re going to do.
I walk into a mist of my favorite body spray, and slip into my sandals right as he knocks on my door.
My heart beats faster as I get closer to the door. I missed him. And that sounds crazy. I just met him. Being around him makes me feel light and carefree. I don’t hold back, and wrap my arms around him when I open the door.
“Hey!” He wraps his arms around me and chuckles.
I pull back. “It’s good to see you.”
Standing back, I get a good look at him, and damn!
He looks even better than before. His jeans fit the thick thighs that pinned me down last night just right, and his shirt is just smedium enough to show off his muscles without looking like he’s trying too hard.
We spent most of last night sitting or laying. I have time to take him in now.
Something tells me Champ never has to try too hard at anything. He just has it.
I step aside to let him in, still cheesing like a child. Who has he turned me into? I don’t just like men after one day. I don’t see one-night-stands ever again. Hell, I cooked breakfast this morning.
I laugh at myself and wonder if he’s run everything from last night through today’s clear-headed filter.
Champ approaches me and puts his arms around my waist. “What’s so funny?”
Laughing when you lay eyes on someone does elicit a question. I look up at him, and lose my voice for a second. He grins and leans down to kiss my neck.
I’m under some kind of spell. I tremble and let out a breath. “I was just wondering if you’re thinking about what I was thinking about.”
His laughter is a low rumble. “Most definitely.”
He meets my eyes. “But I want to take you out today. Let’s do this in a different order. We’re definitely coming back for a nightcap back in that bed of yours.”
We head to his car, and he opens the passenger door for me, offering me his hand as I sit down, just like he did last night. It’s not weird this time. And it had to be my trauma that made me think it was weird last night.
“Are we getting tacos again?” I ask, already tasting the carne asada tacos from last night.
“Not today...next time. We’re eating inside today. This is a proper date.”
I look over at him. “What was last night then?”
He holds my eye contact and places a hand on my thigh. “The best rideshare drive I have had.”
I nod. That’s for damn sure.
We pull up to a spot downtown I’ve passed a hundred times and never thought twice about.
From the outside, it doesn’t look like much: one of those places you only know about if somebody tells you.
Champ hops out and comes around to my side, opening the door and offering his hand again because it’s just what he does, and I take it.
Inside, it’s warm and dim with low music, and people talking just enough to feel alive without being loud. I glance over at him as we walk in, and he’s watching me.
I squeeze his hand. “Okay...you did your big one with this.”
He grins. “We just got here.”
“They got tacos?” I ask, dead serious.
He shakes his head, laughing. “You stuck on them tacos, huh?”
“They changed my life,” I mumble as he gives the host our names.
They flow together: Champ and Lydea.
We get seated in a booth, and he slides in next to me instead of across. I raise an eyebrow at him.
“You don’t believe in personal space?” I ask.
He leans back, arm stretching along the back of the booth behind me. “Not with you, no.”
I try to play it cool, but my lips twitch. I pick up the menu, but I’m not reading a single word on it. I can feel him close to me, almost touching, but not quite
So I lean.
Just a little.
His hand drops from the back of the booth to my shoulder, fingers brushing along my arm.
I swallow and finally glance at the menu for real. “So what do you actually want?” I ask, tapping the edge of it against the table.
He looks over at me. “Right now?”
“Yeah.”
He leans back a little, thinking, but not too hard. “My shop. Open, running the way I see it in my head.”
“That’s it?” I raise an eyebrow. “No secret second life? No five-year plan with a yacht involved?”
He laughs. “Nah. I just want something that’s mine. Something I don’t wake up and dread.”
I nod slowly. “That’s real.”
“What about you?” he asks. “What do you want, for real?”
The question hits different than it should.
I shrug, but it’s not as easy as I want it to be. “Peace,” I say finally. “And to not feel like I’m wasting my time.”
His eyes stay on me. “You feel like you have been?”
I let out a small breath. “Yeah. Dating especially. Sitting across from men I already know I don’t like, just to say I gave it a shot.”
He smirks a little. “You definitely gave it a shot.”
“Don’t start,” I warn, but I’m smiling.
“I’m just saying,” he shrugs. “You stayed longer than I would’ve.”
“I know,” I admit. “That’s the problem.”
There’s a small pause, but it’s not awkward. Just...real.
Then his hand shifts on the table, brushing mine like it’s nothing.
“You’re not doing that tonight,” he says.
I look at him. “Doing what?”
“Wasting your time.”
My stomach flips a little.
I try to play it cool. “We’ll see.”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “Yeah. You will.”
The waiter comes, we order, and conversation just...flows. We talk about his shop again, but this time he’s more animated, telling me about the chairs he picked out, the music he wants playing, the way he wants people to feel when they walk in.
I find myself leaning in, chin in my hand, just listening.
“You really care about this,” I say.
“It’s mine,” he answers simply. “I want it to feel right.”
I nod. I get that.
“I want to see it when it opens,” I say before I can stop myself.
He looks at me then, something softer in his expression. “You will.”
My chest does a little something weird.
The food comes, and for a second, I forget all about him. I take a bite and close my eyes, letting out a soft sound before I can stop it.
“Damn,” I say, pointing my fork at him. “You know all the best food spots.”
“I get around.”
I keep eating, but I feel his eyes on me again.
“I bump him lightly. “What?”
“What?” he says back.
“You keep looking at me.”
He shrugs. “You keep being right there.”
Now my heart’s all fluttery.
Dinner stretches longer than it needs to. We’re done eating, but neither of us is in a rush to move. His hand finds mine under the table, fingers threading through like it belongs there.
Eventually, we make it back outside, the night air cooler now. He walks me to the car again, opening the door, helping me in, and I can’t help but laugh.
“You always like this on dates?”
He just looks at me for a second, then opens the door wider. “Lydea, get in the car.”
I don’t even try to hide my smile.
The drive back is quieter, but not in a weird way. His warm hand touches my thigh.
When we pull up to my place, neither of us rushes to get out. He turns the car off, and we sit there for a second, just like before.
I reach into my bag and pull out the card, holding it between my fingers.
“Wait,” I say. “We never looked at this.”
He glances over. “The Perfect Date thing?”
“Yeah.”
I scan it, and a picture pops up on my phone. My breath catches.
It’s us.
Sitting at the taco spot, me mid-laugh, him looking at me like he forgot where he was for a second.
I swipe.
Another one. Him handing me a taco. My hand brushing his.
Another.
In the car. Me turned toward him. His hand on the wheel, but his eyes on me.
“Oh wow,” I whisper.
He leans in closer, shoulder brushing mine as he looks at my phone. “Let me see.”
I tilt the screen toward him, and he goes quiet for a second.
“That’s crazy,” he says, low.
“They look...” I trail off, staring at one of the pictures a little too long.
“Like what?” he asks.
I glance at him, then back at the screen. “Like we were on a real date.”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “We were.”
I shake my head. “No, I mean like...one of those ones people be posting like ‘this is my person’ or something.”
He doesn’t say anything right away.
I feel his eyes on me again, but I keep looking at the pictures.
After a second, he reaches over and locks my phone, setting it down in my lap.
“What’s my rating for this ride?” he asks.
I tilt my head, pretending to think about it. “You might get a bonus star or two.”
“For what?”
I lean in, close enough that my lips brush his when I speak. “Consistency.”
His hand tightens slightly on my thigh.
“Yeah?” he murmurs.
“Yeah.”
I close the distance this time, kissing him slow, easy.
It feels right.
When I pull back, I don’t go far.
“You coming in,” I ask softly, “or you gonna make me ask twice?”
His smile is slow, knowing.
“Nah,” he says, brushing his thumb along my thigh. “I heard you the first time.”
Good.
Because I need this one to be nothing but five stars.
The End