Eloise

Our lips are close. I brace myself for Gabe’s kiss but one doesn’t come. My panties have been a sopping mess since he walked in the door. Now, every inch of my body is buzzing from his nearness.

I’ve spent every day since Saturday psyching myself up for today. Building the courage to tell Gabe I’d take him up on his offer.

With Sophie’s insistence of meaningless sex being exactly what I need. Over and over, in texts, phone calls and even emails, I’ve given into the idea.

Like she said, ‘If he can do what he says he can, you won’t regret it.’

It’s Wednesday, but I imagined myself inviting him back to my place tonight. Where he can show me the good time he promised, in the comfort of my home.

“Dinner first,” he says.

My brow creases, processing his words.

“I thought you were joking about dinner before.”

“No, I’m taking you to dinner first.”

“Isn’t the girl the one who’s supposed to demand dinner first? Why do I feel like we’re in a role reversal?”

Gabe smirks, and says, “This ain’t no role reversal. That’ll all be clear when I get your clothes off.”

The sureness of his voice sends a fresh blast of heat through me. I try to move away, but he holds me tight.

“I’m not going to object to you buying me dinner,” I say. But my mind races over the possibility of someone I know seeing me with him.

My friends would freak at the sight of me with a guy with so many tattoos. I wish it were winter, so he’d at least wear a sweater.

What if my parents saw us? They’d freak, not just at him but at the fact that he’s a client here at the practice. They’d lose all respect for me. Every morning I’d have to be greeted by their looks of disapproval.

“How about Friday?” he asks.

My face drops, and I can’t hide my disappointment. To try to cover it, I bite my cheeks and look away.

Gabe chuckles, “Can’t wait that long? I’m free tonight, if you’re ready for it.”

“Yes, I’m ready,” I snap, pulling myself away from him and moving across the room.

“That’s cool. Tonight it is.”

“Fine,” I say, my voice sharp.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Fine.”

Gabe smirks, and says, “You’re going to have to give me your address.”

I scribble it down and shove the paper at him. He snatches it from my hand, grabs his T-shirt with his other hand, and walks out of the room.

Collapsing in the chair, I try to calm myself and figure out what just happened.

He’s taking me out tonight, followed by the promise of mind-blowing sex, is what just happened.

Sophie will be pleased, but I’m not breathing a word of it to her until at least tomorrow.

“Holy cow, that guy just walked through reception with no shirt on!” Marcy yells as her footsteps rush down the hallway. She appears in my doorway, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. “He has the best body I’ve ever seen! Did you touch him?”

“Control yourself, Marcy. Remember what my parents said about being professional.” I use my most clinical voice.

She huffs and walks away, no doubt looking for someone else to tell. I cannot believe Gabe didn’t put his shirt back on and walked through the reception area like that.

The rest of the day is a blur. Autopilot takes over as I see the rest of my patients, my mind whirling over seeing Gabe tonight.

I get home just before six, giving me an hour to get ready. After spending far too long in the shower, I face my closet, wondering what to wear.

What do you wear in a situation like this? I still don’t know how I let Sophie talk me into doing this.

It’s a warm evening. After trying on several outfits, I settle on a dark pink sundress with a halter top.

Chet, my ex-boyfriend, always liked my hair tied back, which was good because I almost always tie my hair back.

But tonight is different. It’s all about sex, nothing more. This is about being as far away from my normal self as possible. Tying my hair back the way I always do somehow doesn’t seem right.

Digging around in my bottom drawer, I locate the automatic hair curler Sophie gave me for Christmas a couple of years ago. I’ve only ever used it a few times, and it takes me a while to get the hang of it. But once I do, it’s easy to get my hair looking like Selena Gomez’s.

This gives me just enough time to brush my teeth and do my makeup before Gabe is due to arrive.

At six-fifty-nine, my door buzzes. A million butterflies take off inside of me, and I shake my hands to calm them down. Here comes my first night of meaningless, hook-up sex.

I open my door to reveal Gabe standing on my doorstep. My jaw drops. He’s wearing black jeans and a tight black T-shirt that forms to his muscles. Somehow he looks better than I’ve ever seen him look.

His eyes rake over me, from my feet up, setting off the butterflies again. When his eyes reach my head, he bites his bottom lip and shakes his head.

We stand frozen for a minute, taking each other in.

“You look incredible. I’ve never seen you with your hair down before. I thought you were beautiful before but this is a whole new level.”

I blush and curse myself for turning red so easily.

“Thank you,” I mouth. I want to return the compliment and tell him how good he looks but I can’t find the words.

“I brought you this,” Gabe says, revealing a single red rose from behind his back.

“That’s so sweet. Thank you.”

I take the rose, and reach my lips up to kiss his cheek. Gabe rests his hand on my back, enveloping me in his warmth. I breathe in his clean, masculine scent, and could happily stand here all night.

He shifts his head, and brushes his lips on my lips. Without thinking, my lips part. Gabe growls, and presses his mouth against mine. He holds me tighter. Holding the rose, I wrap my arms around his strong body.

Tingles coat my skin and heat pools between my legs. Why are we bothering with dinner? This isn’t a date, and right now I’m feeling ready for everything he promised.

Gabe pulls his head away, breaking the kiss. I gaze up at him, my breathing rapid.

“We should get going,” he says.

“Do we have to? We could ditch dinner and go straight to the mind-blowing part.”

“No way,” he says with a sly smile, “The deal was dinner first. Besides, you’re not ready for it yet.”

I fall onto my heels, and pull away from him. I feel like yelling I am ready, but decide maybe he’s right.

“Let me put this in water,” I say, holding up the rose.

He follows me into the kitchen. I dig a thin vase from the back of a rarely used cupboard, and fill it with water.

“You really like roses,” I say with a smile, knowing roses are tattooed all across his chest.

“Yeah, they have sentimental value for me,” he says, his voice more gravelly than usual.

“Well, I love roses. They’re my favorite flower.”

A grin springs across Gabe’s face. He holds his hand out and says, “A good sign for the night. Let’s go.”