Chapter 16

T he dread that fills me when my phone buzzes with a text isn’t good. But if it’s Lex telling me he’s here, I’ll scold him for being early. I’m not ready yet!

Still holding two hairpins between my teeth, I rush to check my phone. Phew, it’s Mason.

Mace the Menace

Are you sure you can’t come tonight? It’s the Tiki bar you wanted to try.

Me

I already told you I can’t. I’m seeing a friend.

Mace the Menace

Girl, stop lying. I know all your friends, and they’ll be at Tiki Tiki Bang Bang with me.

Me

Well, you obviously don’t know this one.

He sends me three emojis rolling their eyes, and I throw the phone on my bed to return to my hair. I stupidly decided to have it up, and now that I’ve ruined my curls, I need to make it work. Tami already helped me with my makeup and nails earlier, and out of pride, I refuse to ask for her assistance again. I shouldn’t suck this much at making myself look good.

I’ve been at it all afternoon, exfoliating my entire body, plucking every last hair that doesn’t belong on me, and moisturizing every inch of my skin. I’m smooth like a dolphin, and Lex better appreciate that when we end up in his bed later tonight.

My arms are starting to hurt when my hair finally does something good. I quickly grab a pin from my lips, shove it in there, and then do the same with the second pin. I use four more to ensure this won’t completely fall apart an hour in, and then I twist around to look at my handiwork. Loose strands frame my face, and the rest of my hair is gathered in an organized mess that makes it seem longer than it really is. This looks so good, and I’m proud I did it without my roommate’s help.

There’s a pair of gold hoops waiting on my small vanity, so I put them on, as well as two matching bracelets and three rings. Then I check myself in the mirror again, wondering if I can improve anything else.

I definitely look better than I usually do. This red dress called to me when I went to find the perfect outfit on Thursday afternoon—after Lex dropped me off at my place when we returned. Although I sent a picture to Kate from the fitting room, I bought it even before I received her enthusiastic approval.

It’s a poppy red dress with a corseted upper half and a flowy circle skirt that goes to mid-thigh. But the main event is what’s beneath. Because it has thick straps over my shoulders, I was able to wear the prettiest lingerie ensemble from my shopping spree at Victoria’s Secret months ago. It’s provocative as hell, but it also looks cute, which is the perfect combo to get fucked into oblivion.

Or so Kate says.

I also bought a pair of elegant ankle boots with her approval, which are very comfortable despite the almost two-inch heels. They go very well with the black faux leather jacket I added to the fit.

My phone buzzes again, and my heart goes into a frenzy like earlier. Fuck, why am I so nervous?! We’ve had at least a dozen of what could be considered dates. And we’re amazing at it.

It’s Mason again, and I grimace at his new text.

Mace the Menace

Wait, is it a date? Are you going on a date and you didn’t tell me nothing?

Me

If I say yes, will you stop harassing me about Tiki Tiki Bang Bang?

Mace the Menace

GIRL! GIIIIIRRRLL???

WHERE?

WITH WHOM?

Do you want me to come spy from a corner to protect you if he’s a creep?

Me

This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. And don’t pretend it’s to protect me and not because you’re dying to get some tea.

Mace the Menace

See, this hurts my feelings. I’m only thinking of you, boo.

Me

If you stop texting me and let me finish getting ready, I’ll tell you how it went on Monday. If not, you get nothing.

I wait for a few seconds, but when nothing comes even though he saw my text, I know I won.

The doorbell rings when I’m in the bathroom, wondering if I should wear some lipstick or stay like this. I’m already very red with the dress, and I fully intend on making out with Lex at some point tonight, so I decide against it. Ignoring my racing heart, I rush out and return to my room to grab my golden clutch. Tami handles the door as I give myself one last check, front and back.

Well, this is as good as it’ll ever get, so let’s fucking go!

Lex is by the hallway when I come out, holding a massive bouquet of red roses. He is absolutely stunning, despite looking about as nervous as I feel. He has a dark suit on but with a wool turtleneck instead of his usual button-down shirt. But that’s not the best thing about him. No, he went to the barber today, and his hair looks neat and perfect, just like his impeccably trimmed beard.

I want this man’s babies. Ten of them. Right the fuck now.

As Tami passes between us, she gives me a discreet wink before disappearing into her room.

“You look incredible,” Lex says as he approaches me, his voice slightly uneven. He clears his throat, apparently as mesmerized by me as I am by him, and extends the bouquet toward me. “These are for you.”

Butterflies swirl in my stomach as I take them, breathing in their delicate scent. “Thank you, Lex. They’re beautiful.”

He follows me to the kitchen, where I fetch a vase from a cupboard. While it fills with water, he nervously says, “Google said red roses mean desire, passion, and true love, so I thought it was a good fit.”

Fuck the date. We can spend the evening in my room right here. I’ll be his dinner, and he’ll be mine.

“You asked Google for help?” I wonder, cutting the bouquet’s wrapping.

“Well, it was my first time planning a date, so I needed all the help I could get. And I’m afraid I don’t know what your favorite flowers are yet.”

Shit, how is he so fucking adorable and hot at the same time?

“Tulips.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I love it when they’re barely open because I get to see them bloom.”

“Noted. Red tulips next time.”

As soon as the roses are in the water, I turn to him and find the strength to get us out before I drag him to my room. “Should we go?”

“Do you have everything you need?”

“Just missing a coat on my way out.”

“Then let’s go.”

He helps me put on my coat, lets me into the elevator first, and then opens the door for me when we’re at the car. He’s trying so hard that my ovaries might burst. Although I attempt to get it out of him, I’m still clueless about where we’re going when he parks the car. We’re downtown, but I’ve never been around here before. And it’s not even five yet, which is a little early to grab dinner.

He gets out first, comes around to open my door, and offers me his solid hand to get out. I stay silent as he leads me down the street, looking ahead and trying to guess where we’re going. When I recognize one of the signs, my heart drops a little.

The Hourglass.

It’s known for being one of the most expensive restaurants in Seattle, and I’m suddenly worried about what Google suggested for tonight. Bringing your girl to the most exclusive place in the city is peak romance, but tiny portions and overpriced food aren’t a good fit for a feral raccoon. Far from it.

A lump grows in my throat as I walk toward the fancy restaurant, my jolly mood dipping.

“Andrea, where are you going?” Lex calls behind me, his voice laced with amusement.

I stop in my tracks and turn around to find him standing a few steps back in front of a building’s entrance.

“Oh, sorry, I thought you were taking me there,” I confess as I walk to him, pointing at the restaurant.

He hesitates for a moment, brows knitted together. “Do you want me to take you there?”

“Oh, God, no. I was so scared that was the plan.”

He chuckles with a shake of his head and then clicks his tongue. “Do you not trust me to show you a good time, Andrea? ”

“I’ll trust you even more if this is a secret hotel by the hour,” I joke. This isn’t a shop or a restaurant, and nothing indicates any sort of business in there aside from a chiropractor. Maybe he wants to make sure I’m prepared for the back-blowing action later? “Where are we?”

“I shall keep the surprise all the way to the end.”

He rings one of the buttons, and when I try to read the name, he puts a flat hand between my eyes and the sticker. Where the fuck are we?!

Someone buzzes us in, and we take the elevator to the fourth floor. “I am so confused right now,” I tell him as he knocks on a random door.

I’m still lost when the door opens, revealing an East Asian woman. “Hello, welcome!” she greets us with a professional smile, moving to the side. “You can hang your coats here, leave your shoes there, and then you can follow me.”

We enter what looks like her home, and I send Lex a bewildered glance. “Lex, what is this?” I whisper.

“You’re about to see, you impatient woman.”

He helps me remove my coat and hangs it next to his. Once we’re barefoot, he takes my hand like I’m a lost child and guides me further into the apartment, following her until we arrive at a massive, spotless kitchen.

The woman goes behind the island in the center of it and turns to us, her hands resting on the counter. “I am Miyata Akira, a certified chef of Korean and Japanese cuisine. Both are part of my heritage since my mother is from Busan, and my father is from Kyoto. During this three-hour cooking class, I will teach you how to prepare a few traditional Korean recipes. At Mr. Coleman’s request, I compiled a list from which you’ll choose the dishes you want to cook, Miss Walker. We should have time for three appetizers, two main dishes, their sides, and one dessert.”

I stay there, frozen, my jaw hanging as I stare at her with stupefaction. This is amazing, but I’m so stunned by how absolutely perfect it is that I don’t even know what to say.

“Is it okay?” Lex wonders at my side, slightly worried.

I turn and look up at him, overwhelmed. I can’t cry—I’m wearing way too much makeup. “Okay? Lex… This is—Oh, my God. It’s so perfect,” I say, overjoyed.

He relaxes instantly, and his expression turns sweet. “Good. I thought our Seoul trip could use a little extension. But I was worried you’d find it weird.”

“Weird? Baby, no! It’s amazing.” I want to kiss every inch of his gorgeous face but hold back, remembering we aren’t alone.

Now that I have approved, Ms. Akira fetches two aprons and hands them to us. She gives us a few safety rules, explains how the evening will unfold, and shares with me a handwritten list. With her help, I chose a few of the twenty listed dishes, and we’re ready to start.

Once our hands are clean, she gives us each three knives, a cutting board, and gets us started on the bulgogi marinade. “Oh, uh, no chili, please,” I say when she tells us to add some red pepper paste.

“None at all?”

I shrug, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, I’m not… I’m not a big fan.” God, I need to wash my mouth with soap after that lie.

“Okay, no problem,” she agrees with a nod. When we return to combining all the ingredients together, Lex tilts toward me and says, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m not letting anyone judge my boyfriend’s weak palate,” I counter with a grin.

After half an hour of hard work, she offers us a glass of wine—either traditional rice wine or red from the Napa Valley. I pick the Korean one while Lex plays it safe. Ms. Akira is an amazing teacher. Not only are her instructions easy to follow, but she’s also very good at making us feel comfortable.

As enthralling as she is, though, I’m constantly distracted by the disoriented man next to me. It’s clear that Lex picked this date solely for me because cooking is definitely not his thing. So, whenever she isn’t looking, I switch my board with his so he has my efficiently chopped ingredients while I work on what he has left. His visible relief every time is worth the playful sneakiness.

I also spend the whole lesson “accidentally” touching him. Any excuse to plaster myself against him is good, as well as grazing his arm or hands—and even his ass, once. At some point, while Ms. Akira is busy in the sink, I grab his hand and bring his sauce-covered finger to my mouth to suck it all off. That one earns me a dark, hungry glare, but I don’t care, and grin when he adjusts the front of his slacks.

The three hours go by in a blink, and before we know it, we’re all done. She guides us to a beautifully decorated dining room where a table for two has already been set. We sit down facing each other, and she fills our new glasses with wine before disappearing back to the kitchen, closing the Japanese screens behind her.

Lex and I stay silent for a moment, staring at each other with unmasked appreciation. “Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks before bringing his glass to his tempting mouth.

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“It was, but I want you to say it.”

I laugh behind my wine, take a sip, and answer, “I enjoyed myself a lot, Alexander. ”

Because he feels so far away, I lift my legs under the table to rest my feet on his lap. He gives me a questioning glance, his eyebrow arched up, but still sends a hand under the table to my shin. “I’m glad you feel that way,” he says as his thumb grazes the side of my calf.

“And you? Are you having a good time?” As I ask, I slide one of my feet to graze the bulge at his crotch. Fire ignites behind his irises. I’m a fucking tease, and I wear that title with honor.

“Any time spent with you is a good time, Andrea.”

He bends closer so his hand can slither up my leg, never breaking eye contact. He can’t go much further than my knee, but it’s enough to send shivers all the way to my core. When a couple of knocks interrupt his enterprise, Lex straightens up and removes his hand. Since Ms. Akira can’t see my feet on his lap, I keep them there when the screens part and she walks in. She’s carrying a tray where she has beautifully arranged the appetizers we’ve prepared. Although we made kimchi together, she switched it for some that is already fermented—but she insists it’s the same recipe.

Once she’s done setting it between us on the table, I press my foot a little harder on Lex’s dick, which, if I’m not mistaken, is getting harder. He jumps slightly, gives me a warning glare, and I hide my smile with a sip of wine.

As soon as we’re alone again, I grab my chopsticks, ready to dig in. When Lex picks up his, I say, “We have forks as well, look.”

“I’m good. I’ve been… training.”

“You have?”

“Yeah. I ate Bolognese with chopsticks yesterday.” That is both so cute and so funny that I hide my grin behind my fingers. “I’m still not as good as you,” he concedes, “but I’m getting better.”

I watch in awe as he slowly picks up a dumpling and brings it to his mouth, adorably focused. He chews on it with a dubious expression before nodding. “This is good.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I hate garlic, so I didn’t think I’d like any of what we prepared,” he explains.

Puzzled, I frown. “Lex, there’s garlic everywhere. I’ve seen you eat and love things with it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I tried it a while back, and it was revolting.”

“Was it a raw clove or something?”

“Yes. Why?”

It takes everything I have in me to quench my laughter. He’s so clueless it’s downright endearing. “Baby, raw garlic is an acquired taste. It isn’t the same at all once you cook it. You’ve probably eaten more things with garlic than without.”

My explanation disconcerts him greatly, the crease between his brows betraying his perplexity.

“What would you do without me to broaden your horizons, Coleman?” I tease.

He sounds more grave than I expected when he answers. “I honestly don’t know. My interests were limited, and my world was small and repetitive. But ever since you stumbled into it, the possibilities have become endless. It’s as if you’ve opened the universe to me. You make me want to discover food, music, movies… And unknowingly, you constantly push me out of the comfort zone I’ve spent my entire life in.”

Emotions wreck me. I wasn’t expecting such a declaration, nor do I expect what follows.

“I don’t know what I would do without you, Andrea. You’ve become my entire world, and I don’t think I could ever go back to the one I knew.”

Because I know exactly what he means, his words hit me hard. So fucking hard that tears fill my eyes. I can’t answer with my throat so tight and sore, so I stand up and go to him. He welcomes me onto his lap and holds me close as I wrap my arms around him so tightly I don’t know how he breathes.

After a while, he pushes me away tenderly. His thumb gently wipes a stray tear on my cheek, and the way he looks at me melts me to the bones.

“I’ll forever be grateful for the day I picked you out of all the applicants,” he says with intensity.

“And I’m glad I nailed your impossible test by being such a skilled coder,” I cheekily respond.

He chuckles and gives my throat an irrepressible kiss. “Alright, time to be a good little raccoon and eat everything. I have more things planned for tonight.”

“You do?”

“Yes, and you’ll love it. So, back to your seat and eat, Andrea.”

He helps me off his lap, generously palming my ass as he does, and I wriggle away from his touch with a giggle. I return to my chair, excited to see what he has prepared for the rest of our evening.

I don’t see how anything could top this, but the man has always been particularly good at surprising me. It’s a good thing I also have a trick or two up my sleeve—or rather, up my dress.

Tonight, I won’t be the only one getting nice surprises.

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