I decided to wear a dress.

I rushed home from work, leaving Rachel to close up the salon, took a record-breaking fast shower, and changed into my new dress. I’d had a little bit of time between clients earlier, so I went into a boutique on Main Street and came out with a collection of summer dresses, none of which were black.

My dress fell just above my knees, with a flirty, ruffled hem. The deep jade color felt daring, but I also knew it was a good shade for my coloring. Nothing was tight, but the spaghetti straps and bow in the back were flirty and fun.

I felt good—cute.

The concert had technically been a date, but tonight felt more official. He was going to pick me up and we’d be alone. I’d have to actually make conversation and be witty and charming. As cute as I felt, I almost wanted to change into leggings and a T-shirt and turn on Netflix.

I went outside to wait for Alex before I could change my mind. He pulled up a minute later, and I slid into his car.

He gave me a wide smile. “Hello there!”

I smiled back. “Hey.”

Alex was as handsome as ever in dark jeans and a pale blue button-down shirt. He looked like he’d just gotten out of the shower too, with his slightly damp hair and his spicy, soapy smell drifting across the car.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“I am. I went out and bought this dress instead of grabbing lunch,” I admitted.

His eyes scanned over me. “As much as I’d rather you not skip lunch, you look gorgeous in that dress.”

“Thank you, Alex. And you look very handsome tonight too.”

I hated how stiff and formal I sounded, but damn, I was out of practice with this stuff.

“There’s a really great farm-to-table restaurant nearby I’d love to take you to. How does that sound?” he asked.

I nodded. “Really perfect.”

We chatted on the drive about Alex’s job as a computer programmer and the area where he lived. He was Joe’s age, in his mid-thirties, and there was something about him that felt settled and grown-up. He’d been in the same job for several years, had been married and divorced, and he owned his own home and a vacation condo at the beach.

The restaurant wasn’t very far from Tiber City, and it was across the street from a small farm. They were serious about being farm-to-table.

“I think the farm Joe and Rachel are getting married at is close by,” I said once we were seated.

He nodded. “I think you’re right.” He pointed to a dish on the menu. “The steak is really good here.”

“Oh! Um, I don’t actually eat red meat. But thank you. Everything looks good,” I said.

“No red meat, huh? Are you a health nut?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Is that a bad thing?”

He chuckled. “Not at all. You look amazing, so obviously your discipline works. Personally, I like a big juicy steak or burger every once in a while.”

“Your splurge is steak and mine is cheesecake,” I said.

He held his hands up. “Fair enough!”

I ordered pan-seared oysters and a gin and tonic, and Alex, of course, ordered steak frites and a glass of red wine.

“So, you really enjoyed that concert we all went to, huh?” he asked.

I nodded. “I did. I guess I dig chick music.”

He cringed again. “Yeah, that wasn’t the most eloquent thing that’s ever come out of my mouth.”

I laughed. “No, it definitely wasn’t.”

Alex was really nice, and he was trying so hard, but nothing was clicking. We discussed our musical taste and had nothing in common. We talked about vacation spots, and he liked to go to the same place every time—his beach condo—while I liked to explore places off the beaten path. Even though he was tall and slim, he wasn’t really athletic at all. Vacation surfing was his only sport. When he told me he didn’t like to read, it was the final nail in the coffin. I didn’t think I could be with a man who wasn’t a reader.

When our food arrived, it seemed we had exhausted every topic of conversation we could think of.

“The scallops are delicious,” I said.

“I’m glad. I’m not really a fan of seafood,” he said politely as he sawed through a bloody piece of steak.

A laugh bubbled up through my stomach to my chest and burst out of my throat. Alex look startled at first, but he joined in the laughter quickly.

“We really have nothing in common, do we?” he asked.

I snorted. “Nope, nothing at all!”

“It’s really kind of amazing how different we are,” he marveled.

“But not in an opposites attract sort of way,” I said through giggles.

He shook his head. “Not a match!”

After that, the non-date was more fun. We continued to compare what we didn’t have in common and Alex shared some of his dating woes. His outlook on the current dating scene wasn’t very encouraging.

He drove me back home, and when he pulled up to the curb, I turned to him and grinned.

“That was fun,” I said.

“Agreed. Let’s never do it again, though, okay?”

“Obviously.”

We shook hands to seal the deal, and then I climbed out of the car and watched him drive away.

Tonight had been weird, but not in a terrible way. I’d gotten the first date out of the way, and now it was done. I could probably do it again, but I’d find my own guy next time.

I went inside and turned on the lights, then peeked out the window, noting Charlie’s lights were on. He was home from his sister’s house.

I put my shoes away in the closet and was about to take off my dress when there was a light but persistent tapping on my door.

When I opened it, I stepped back, and Charlie walked right through without pausing. He looked around my small apartment, then turned to me.

“Hey,” he said.

I put my hands on my hips. “Well, hello. And come right in, please!”

Charlie studied a picture on the wall over my shoulder. It was a painting of Main Street from the early twentieth century I’d bought in one of the shops in town.

He nodded and walked into my living room, looking out the window.

“Your place is nice,” he said.

“I like it. It’s certainly cozy. So, uh, what’s going on?”

Charlie looked jumpy, like he was buzzing.

He looked at me intently. “When I got home this afternoon, I was really looking forward to seeing you. And then I got your note, with your goddamn lip print on it, talking about going to dinner with that guy... Anyway, I saw your light come on, so I came over to say hi.”

It hit me square in the chest while he was talking. Charlie was jealous. And he was nervous Alex was going to be here when he came over, but he came over anyway.

“You like me,” I said softly.

He ran his hands through his hair and frowned. “What? Of course I like you. You’re Eliza, my friend.”

I stepped into his space and looked up into his eyes. “But that’s not all,” I said.

His brows pinched together as he watched me. “No?”

Raising up on my tiptoes, I braced my hands on his shoulders and pressed my lips to his for a long moment.

“What was that?” he whispered.

“You like me,” I said again.

He gently brushed my bangs out of my eyes and scanned my face.

He didn’t deny it, but he didn’t make a move either. Who said he had to be the one to make the first move? I could tell from the humming of his skin he was just as nervous as I was.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his face down to mine, then slowly kissed around his mouth. I planted a kiss in each corner before finally pressing my lips to his again and lingering there.

“I like you too,” I breathed.

His fingers were like feathers, ever so lightly tracing the line of my jaw, his eyes on mine with the kind of fierceness I had never seen in him. It made me ache deep inside.

Then he rested his forehead on mine and wrapped his arms around my waist, drawing my body against his.

“Eliza…”

He said my name like it was a surprise, like I was a surprise.

“Charlie, I did it. I was spontaneous and made the first move. You’re really going to have to kiss me now, though, before I go crazy.”

And then finally, finally, his lips met mine, and we really kissed. We went slow, getting to know each other in a whole new way. I knew kissing Charlie would be good, but the reality of it was magic. His lips and mine melded together, and when I parted for him, his tongue slid against mine, making me whimper.

I never wanted the kiss to end. His lips were so soft and warm, and I would have said they were comfortable if not for the way his mouth on mine stoked a fire in my body—a fire that had never burned as hot as it was burning now.

As our tongues and lips danced, Charlie stroked my back, and then one hand traveled up and gripped the back of my hair. The ache in me only intensified as our kiss went on and on and on. I was kissing him for every time I’d wanted to, but had held myself back.

Panting, we pulled our lips apart, but Charlie held my body snug against his. I stroked his chest with my palm and then rested it over his rapidly beating heart.

“You should have told me,” I said.

His chest vibrated when he barked out a dry laugh. “You should have told me.”

I pulled back and met his eyes. “I didn’t think you thought of me that way.”

Charlie smoothed his hand down the side of my hair. “Eliza, you have to know I’m basically obsessed with you. I’m running a fucking marathon just so I can spend time with you.”

What? Charlie was obsessed with me? He was running a marathon to spend time with me?

“You really play your cards close to the vest. I honestly had no idea. That first day when you asked to run with me...you liked me even then?” I asked incredulously.

He nodded. “Even then. I thought you were beautiful and sad and my one goal was to make you smile.”

I cupped his jaw tenderly. “You did. You do. Every day.”

“I just...I don’t know, I thought you weren’t ready. And then somehow you became this central person in my life and I didn’t want to be your rebound guy. I told myself to wait, stand back while you dated, while you saw what was out there. I just didn’t realize how it would feel actually seeing you with someone else.” He shuddered. “Never mind the fact that I had no idea if you even felt the same way. I would hate myself forever if I messed things up with us.”

“I do feel the same way. And I’m so ready.”

He leaned down and kissed me again, slowly and thoroughly, until both of us were breathless.

“I can’t believe I’m allowed to kiss you,” he said, his eyes searching my face in what looked like wonder.

I stroked the back of his neck. “You’re allowed to do a lot more than that.”

Charlie literally growled. “You can’t say shit like that. You have no idea what it does to me.”

I batted my eyelashes, and in my most innocent voice, I asked, “What does it do?”

I knew I was driving him crazy, but seeing him on the verge of desperation, for me, made me want to push him further.

He breathed out slowly through his nose and backed up a step. “I see you standing there in your pretty little dress and your shiny hair and every part of me wants to sully you, to get you dirty. I want to ravage you. But I want to do this right with you, Eliza. I don’t know if I’m capable of being good enough for you, but I want you anyway.”

I was instantly wet. I wanted him to do all those things to me. It should have been shocking hearing those words come from him—the man I considered only a friend a few minutes ago—but I loved it. I’d always dated club-approved boys and men who treated me like glass or an object. I wanted a man—no, I wanted Charlie—to get a little dirty with me.

“I want everything you just said. Mostly, I want more of you. And I’m going to ignore you saying you’re not good enough for me because it’s a completely ridiculous notion.”

Charlie ran his hands up and down my sides, then over my shoulders and arms.

“We’re really going to do this?” he asked.

I laughed softly. “Yeah. I think we already are.”

“Can I be a really possessive dick for a minute and say I don’t want you going out with that guy anymore?”

“Charlie.” I put my hands on his cheeks and met his steady gaze. “There’s just you. I have no room for anyone else. In my heart, my brain, my life. You’ve filled it all up.”

His grin grew, until it turned into a laugh. He grabbed me and picked me up, spinning me around.

“I really, really like you.” He kissed the side of my neck, making loud smacking noises as he went.

“Oh my god, that tickles!” I kicked my feet helplessly as he blew raspberries on my shoulder and nibbled the sensitive skin.

Finally, he collapsed on the couch with me on top of him, both of us giggling.

When our laughter died down, he traced the planes of my face with his fingertips, and I gripped his forearms. Being able to touch him, having him touch me, couldn’t have been more natural, yet it took my breath away. I wanted his hands all over my body, but I could tell he wasn’t ready to go there tonight. Which was probably a good thing. Maybe. Right?

“Hey, Charlie?”

He tipped my chin up so I was looking at him. “Hey, Eliza.”

“Will you be my date to Rachel and Joe’s wedding?” I asked.

He frowned at me. “That’s not right.”

“What isn’t? Are we not taking this thing public?” That was pretty deflating.

“What? No!”

He stood up suddenly and walked to my door.

“Wait! Charlie?”

I stood up and followed him. He was leaving?

He threw open the door and walked out onto the landing, then yelled, “Attention, Tiber City residents! This is Charlie Hamada, and I would like to announce Eliza Goldberg is my girl.” He turned to me and asked in a much quieter voice, “You are my girl, right?”

I nodded, my eyes wide and my mouth agape, stunned.

He winked, then yelled toward the street, “She’s definitely my girl!”

Charlie stepped back inside and started closing the door. Before I could stop myself, I ran and jumped on his back like a monkey.

“You’re crazy!” I said into his ear.

He laughed over his shoulder. “Maybe. But you like it.”

I nuzzled into the side of his neck. “You know I do.”

When I dropped down to the floor, he turned around and pressed me against the entryway wall. Running his fingers under the spaghetti straps of my dress, he smiled down at me.

“I like you in this dress. It’s not black. I wish you had worn it for me, though.”

“Take me on a date and I’ll wear another one, also not black.”

He cupped the back of my neck and pulled me in for another soft kiss.

“I’m going to take you on all the dates. Although, apparently, you’re taking me to the wedding,” he said.

I rubbed my hands over his strong shoulders. “You’re not going to turn out to be a closet sexist who gets all offended when the lady makes the first move, are you? Because that would be really disappointing.”

Charlie kissed up the side of my neck and jaw. Between kisses, he said, “Eliza, if you hadn’t made the first move, I wouldn’t be doing this right now, and that would be a goddamn shame. Just let me make my move too. I give you permission to kick me if I’m too slow.”

I kicked him softly.

He chuckled. “What move am I not making fast enough?”

“There’s too much talking happening, not enough making out.”

Charlie stepped back for a beat. Then he growled and picked me up, carrying me back to the couch. He flopped down and pulled me on top of him, and the making out commenced. We kissed until our lips were sore and heads were light. We didn’t go any further than that, but finally kissing Charlie was more than enough...for tonight.