Chapter 12 Need To Talk
NEED TO TALK
“This is nice, but I expected no differently,” she said two weeks later when Matt opened the door to his condo.
Date number four and all they’d done was eat together.
Their first date at Tina’s pub, lunch, another dinner date, and tonight he was taking care of it for her since she didn’t know when she’d get done showing a house to clients.
“It’s not a lot of space, but it works for me. Come in.”
She slipped her heels off her feet when she saw his shoes by the door.
Not only for that reason but her toes and heels were cramping. She was made to wear sneakers or flats.
She had plenty of them but wanted to look more professional showing this home to the wealthy first-time buyers.
Five houses together all in cookie cutter developments. They loved two of them and promised to get back to her by tomorrow at noon to put an offer on one of the houses.
She could use the moral pickup.
“This building is older, but it looks new in here.”
“I’ve lived here for three years. I had some work done before I moved in.”
“The kitchen,” she said. It was obviously new. He didn’t follow the trends, but it was high-end materials even as basic as they were.
“Yes. Go on, give me your professional opinion on it. Boring?”
It was as if he read her thoughts on the status of their dates to match his design. It was a bummer, but she was going to have to decide tonight.
There was no reason to put it off.
“It’s classic,” she said.
He laughed. “A polite way to say boring. This isn’t a permanent residence for me. It works for my lifestyle now, but I wanted it upgraded. I stayed with neutral classic but good quality natural materials.”
“Good for resale,” she said, laughing.
He pointed his finger at her. “There you go.”
“How big is it? The square footage?”
“A thousand square feet. Much smaller than what I grew up in.”
His parents’ house was massive to her. As a child it was like entering a mansion though she’d seen plenty of houses bigger since she started this career.
“Two bedrooms?” she asked.
“Are you scoping it out for a listing?” he asked. He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“Sorry. I think that’s the first thing I trained my mind to think of to stay sharp. I had to learn so much on the fly.”
The last thing she wanted to do was appear inexperienced even though she was. She faked enough of it though.
At least the couple she was with today thought so and praised her for finding so many houses they’d loved.
It was easy to do when everything they wanted was cookie cutter and their budget was so high.
If everyone was this easy, she’d be smashing it.
But it reminded her she enjoyed what she did. If she could find a way for it to be sustainable, she wouldn’t change her career again.
“How did it go today?” he asked.
“Great. I had five showings. They loved two of them and want to make an offer once they decide. They are going to let me know in the morning. I hope. I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve been told that and then follow up a day later to find out they’ve changed their mind.”
“Part of why you hate sales, right?”
“I’m not good with following through. I have to force myself. I hate to pester people, but it’s part of the job. That and the negotiating. Oh boy, I hate that.”
She’d been walked over a few times in the beginning and found out later that she could have done better for her clients if she’d stuck to her guns and not fallen to the pressure of worrying about losing a deal.
The fear of no commission outweighed a greater commission.
Then she told herself not to think of what she got, but what her clients did.
Once she got that through her head, it was smoother.
“Hopefully you won’t have to worry this time,” he said.
“Fingers crossed. It’s a tight market, but they’ve got the money. If they go in higher than asking, they should be good. I know one of the selling agents and think we’ll be fine.”
“I’m happy,” he said. “Do you want some wine?”
“Sure,” she said. “Then we need to talk.”
He turned quickly from where he was opening a bottle of white wine that was much nicer than anything she’d ever bought. Not surprising there either.
After filling the glass, she picked it up from the quartz counter and pulled out a chair to sit.
He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and poured it into a glass, then stayed on that side of the island.
“Hit me with it.”
Might as well get right to the point. “Where do you see this thing?” Her hand was moving back and forth between them.
“You mean us?” he asked.
“Yes. We are the only two in the room. We’ve had four dates in two weeks and all we do is talk.”
“Talk?” he asked. It was as if he was struggling to get that word out.
“Yes. I get it, you’re used to talking in your job, but it’s... I’m just going to say it. Boring.”
He didn’t kiss her the first night and she was fine with that.
The second date was a quick lunch, the same. He was nice and opened her car door and gave her an awkward hug.
She tried to push off the fact he only did that.
But their date a few days ago, he gave her a gentle kiss on the lips and moved back as if he was being forced to kiss a great-aunt that smelled of mothballs.
No one wants to feel undesirable.
“You think I’m boring?” His voice rose with that question.
“I know we’ve both changed. It could be you flipped around in the air and landed in another dimension.”
He ran his hands through his hair. “You’re putting me in the friend’s zone? Just say it.”
“Oh boy, you’re insulted. I’m sorry. I just thought we shouldn’t waste the other person’s time. I appreciate you and that we’ve mended the fences from when we were younger.”
He looked adorably frustrated as his lips twisted and his hand moved from the counter to his lap to run over his thigh. “Anya. I can’t win with you.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve moved slower than a turtle through quicksand because of our past. The last thing I want to do is break the trust I’ve been trying to earn back. Now you’re telling me I’m boring.”
She shook her head. Maybe she was the one in the wrong dimension. “Matt. You can earn my trust and we can still have fun without you overstepping. There was part of your personality I liked back then, when it was in moderation.”
“That’s it?” he asked. “You want to go and have fun on a date?”
“It’d be nice,” she said, shrugging. “Dinner is great, but life is short. I’ve got a lot going on and sometimes I want to let go of it and just laugh.”
“I’m not even funny to you anymore?” he asked. His jaw was open, his eyes wide. He was so appalled by that possibility.
She burst out laughing. “You should see your face.”
“There, you’re laughing,” he said, pointing at her. “I’m just dumbfounded by this. I’m trying to not scare you or push you away.”
“I don’t want you to not be yourself.”
“Being myself got me into this mess with you decades ago.”
“We were kids. I’ve accepted your explanations and moved on. I thought we were starting over.”
Now she was confused.
“Shit,” he said. “You said that. So if I want to go to Carowinds for a date, what would you say?”
“Hell yes,” she said. “I love amusement parks.”
“Give me another chance. I hate to say I’d like to start over again, but really, all I do is mess up around you.”
Her head went back and forth. “It’s not just that.”
“The friends category,” he said. He put his beer down and came around the island. “I’ve been going slow there too. I hugged you the other day and you stiffened.”
“Because you did,” she argued.
“When I kissed you, you didn’t really kiss me back a few days ago.”
“We were in a parking lot.”
Was he that clueless? She thought he was smoother than this.
“We aren’t now,” he said.
He was stalking her.
Her heart was racing. Her face was heating.
Her fingers were slipping on the glass as the sweat spread over her palms.
This was what she wanted to feel with him.
Arousal with the attraction and now it was reciprocated.
Rather than get off the chair, she waited to see his next move.
He reached for her arm and tugged her off of it. Gentlemanly.
Bummer.
But she remained aroused, which was good.
She expected him to lower his head and start the kiss slow.
Nope.
He picked her up and put her ass right on the island, stepped between her legs, framed her face in his hands, then lowered his mouth to hers.
It was gentle, but it wasn’t sweet.
His lips landed on hers, his teeth pulled her bottom lip out and nibbled some, his tongue licked, then slid into her mouth.
Somehow she lost all her brain cells as he made love to her mouth.
Kissing her, his tongue tasting, then nipping, opening her mouth and diving in again, withdrawing and working her heart rate into overdrive.
She couldn’t catch up and wasn’t sure she wanted to.
It was better to hang on and let him do what he obviously perfected because her body had no problem with it.
Nope.
She was squirming on the island looking for any friction she could to relieve the itch clawing in her body that hadn’t been scratched in over a year.
He moved back and walked to his beer, leaving her sitting there staring into the living room in a daze.
Him clearing his throat finally pulled her out of the trance for her to realize he was steps away and she was still on the island.
“Still boring and only a friend?”
She turned her head and looked at his cocky smirk. The one she’d been dying to see for days.
“What?”
“The ball is in your court again. Now I know I need to steal it often to keep you guessing.”
She reached across the island for her glass and downed her wine.
“Carowinds it is,” she squeaked out.