Chapter 13 Asia
My heart was beating a mile a minute as Nyree and I approached the hostess.
Just like that other bitch from the hotel, her eyes zeroed in on Nyree while they barely registered my presence.
I was about tired of these bitches ignoring me.
Like damn, I knew he was fine but shit. He wasn’t the only man in the world.
Nyree spoke up. “Two for Johnson?” he said, and my jaw dropped in shock.
He turned and caught my expression before I could fix my face. “What?” he asked, and I caught the hostess rolling her eyes then looking me up and down from the corner of my eye.
“You made reservations,” I commented and something in my chest fluttered.
He gave me a slow grin. “Of course. Only the best for a woman as fine as you.”
I couldn't help but blush. He was quick with his words, I would give him that.
"Right this way," the hostess said in a fake-polite tone then proceeded to lead us to a table dead in the middle of the restaurant.
"Unh uh," I commented before she could lay the menus down.
She eyed me with a slight attitude. "Ma'am?"
"Can we get a booth or something? I don't like people moving all around me."
She cut her eyes at me and focused on Nyree. "Sir, are you okay with sitting here?" Nyree gestured toward me. "I want a booth if that's what wifey wants."
Wifey?
Before I had a chance to process his words, the hostess was leading us to a more suitable table. She placed the menus down and walked away without another word. "Bitch," I said under my breath and Nyree caught it.
"You said something?" he asked, and settled into his seat.
I fixed my attitude, not wanting to let that woman mess up our good time. "No, I was just saying this is a nice restaurant."
I settled into the booth, stealing a glance at Nyree as I picked up my menu.
That kiss outside had caught me off guard.
Now here he was calling me "wifey" to the hostess like it was nothing.
I needed to pump the brakes, remind myself that I barely knew this man.
But something inside me didn't want to overthink this. For once.
"So," Nyree said, setting his menu aside, "tell me something I don't know about Asia Williams."
I raised an eyebrow. "That's a pretty open-ended question."
"That's the point." His eyes held mine steadily. "I want to know everything. Start wherever you want."
There was something disarming about his directness. No games, no pretense. Just genuine interest.
"Well," I began, "I already told you about the startup company I work for.”
He nodded, encouraging me to continue.
"I’ve been doing that for a while and I like the company so I’ll probably stay there.
Outside of that, I have an unhealthy obsession with thriller novels but ironically, I can’t stomach true crime shows.
I’m not really much of a cook, but I can put together a few nice dishes.
And..." I paused, deciding how much to share, "I haven't been on a real date in a long time. "
That last part slipped out before I could stop it. Something about his gaze made me want to be honest.
"A long time?" He looked surprised. "The men in Philly must be blind and stupid."
I laughed. "Or maybe I'm just picky."
"Nothing wrong with knowing your worth," he said, just as our server approached.
We ordered drinks – a glass of red wine for me, a bourbon for him – and appetizers to share. As the server walked away, Nyree leaned forward.
"So you and your mom are close, huh? I’m close with my mom too."
Nyree’s conversation was refreshing. Most guys I'd dated in the past either glazed over when I talked about myself or spent the whole time bragging about themselves.
For the next hour, words flowed easily between us. Nyree shared stories about his mom who worked two jobs to support him as he grew up, along with his dreams of opening his own studio someday.
I found myself opening up too – about my complicated relationship with my dad, my close bond with Bella, my own creative aspirations beyond my current job.
As we spoke, I searched for the warning signs I'd trained myself to look for after too many disappointing relationships. The subtle red flags that would tell me to guard my heart.
Was he too smooth? Too charming? Did he talk over me or dismiss my opinions? Did he check out other women when he thought I wasn't looking? Was he only focused on himself?
But the longer we talked, the more those defensive instincts began to quiet. Instead of finding flaws, I found myself enjoying his company. Laughing at his jokes. Appreciating the way he listened when I spoke, asking thoughtful follow-up questions instead of waiting for his turn to talk.
By the time dessert arrived – a chocolate lava cake we agreed to share – I'd stopped cataloging potential issues and surrendered to the moment.
"You got a little..." Nyree gestured to the corner of my mouth.
Before I could react, he reached across the table, his thumb brushing away a spot of chocolate from my lip. The casual intimacy of the gesture made me want to squeeze my thighs together, especially when he smirked and slowly licked it off.
Watch it now, my mind said, pussy activated, while outwardly I murmured, "Thank you." I was suddenly aware of how close we were across the table.
His eyes dropped to my lips briefly before meeting mine again. "My pleasure."
When the check came, Nyree smoothly took it before I could even offer to split it.
"I asked you out," he said when I protested. "Next time can be on you if you want."
Next time. The assumption should have annoyed me – who said there would be a next time? – but instead, I felt a flutter of anticipation. I wanted there to be a next time. Many next times, if I was being honest.
As we left the restaurant, Nyree reached for my hand again. His palm was warm against mine, our fingers intertwining. We walked through the parking lot in comfortable silence, the cool evening breeze chilling me.
When we reached my car, neither of us seemed ready to let go. I turned to face him, our hands still joined.
"I had a nice time tonight," I said, feeling suddenly shy despite everything.
"Me too." He stepped closer, his free hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Better than nice."
My eyes drifted to his lips, remembering the surprise of his kiss earlier. The warmth of it. The rightness. Almost unconsciously, I moistened my own lips.
As if reading my thoughts, Nyree leaned down, his intention clear. This time there was no surprise, only anticipation as his lips met mine. Soft at first, then deeper as I responded, my free hand coming up to rest on his chest.
I could feel his heartbeat under my palm, steady and strong. He tasted like chocolate and bourbon, and I found myself pressing closer, wanting more. His arm wrapped around my waist, drawing me against him as the kiss intensified.
When we pulled apart, both breathless, Nyree looked down at me with that same steady gaze that had captivated me all evening.
"So you know you my girl now, right?"
"What?" I blinked, caught off guard by the directness of the statement.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest under my hand. "Come on now, I done kissed you twice now, woman. In my eyes, we're official."
I should have been put off by his presumption. Should have told him we needed to slow down, get to know each other better. That's what the logical part of my brain was saying.
But the rest of me didn't want logic right now.
A laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep inside me. "Okay," I said.
His eyes widened, like he hadn't expected me to agree so easily. Then his expression softened into something that made my heart skip.
"Okay," he echoed, and leaned in again.
This third kiss was different – deeper, more certain. I let myself melt into it, my arms wrapping around his neck as his hands splayed across my back, pulling me closer. When his tongue traced the seam of my lips, I opened to him without hesitation, a soft sound escaping my throat.
The world narrowed to just this – his mouth on mine, the solid warmth of his body against me, the night air cool on my skin where his hands weren't touching. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I wasn't overthinking. I was just here, present in this perfect moment.
When we broke apart, I felt dizzy, my lips tingling. Nyree pressed his forehead against mine, his breath warm on my face.
"I know this is fast," he murmured, "but something about you, Asia... I can't explain it. It feels right."
I nodded, not trusting my voice. Because it did feel right, in a way that defied explanation. Like something clicking into place that I hadn't even realized was misaligned.
"I should let you go," he said, though he made no move to release me. "It's getting late."
"Yeah," I agreed. "I have to start work early tomorrow morning.”
His gaze lingered on mine as he held my hand in his. “Call me when you get home.”
"I will."
He opened my car door for me, waiting until I was settled before closing it. Through the window, he mouthed "Drive safe" before stepping back.
As I started the engine and pulled away, I watched him in my rearview mirror, standing there until I turned out of the parking lot. A giddy feeling swept through my chest, making me laugh out loud in the privacy of my car.
I had a boyfriend. After one dinner date. It was crazy and impulsive and unlike me.
And somehow, it felt right.