You know when you first meet someone and there’s something about the expression they hold in their eyes that keeps you intrigued? That’s how I felt the other night when I met Dria. Her eyes alone held my attention. Then it was the way she’d smile when she was being spoken to, and then her spitfire attitude at the end of the night when I asked for her number.

But that wasn’t the Dria I met the other day. No, the one who showed me around was different. She was standoffish and cold. Almost as if something happened from when we met to when I showed up at her house. I don’t know what happened to her in that small gap of time, but someone did a number of her.

She mentioned an ex, but she also mentioned that she was sort of seeing someone, but wasn’t and it was complicated. That’s how I liken my relationship to the woman at Society X. I mean, we’re not technically seeing each other but we are engaging in sexual activity. And for fuck’s sake, she gave me, a man she doesn’t know, her virginity. That alone is enough to fuck both of us for a long time.

By all accounts I shouldn’t text Dria. In fact, I should lose her number. She’s probably wondering if I dropped off the face of the Earth. It’s been a few days, and by a few I mean four to be exact. This is where that “do I text or call question” comes into play. I know she said she’s not interested, which means back the fuck off, but I am and I can’t shake the sense that I’m meant to know her, which makes me feel like a total ass for waiting this long.

I know there’s a possibility that we’ll run into each other at another one of Parker’s gatherings, assuming he uses the same service, but I could ignore her. I could play it off as if we never met. Hell, I could even bring a date and show her what she’s missing.

But I can’t. There’s something about her that I’m drawn to and I don’t know what it is. I find myself thinking about her more than I should. We went on one date—which wasn’t exactly a date—and she blew me off. That should be a sign to cut my losses and move on.

And yet, here I am looking at the text message box with my thumb poised and ready to send her a message. I have typed and retyped what I want to say to her so many times I’ve lost count. Never have I questioned myself so much about sending a simple text to a woman before. I don’t want her to misconstrue my words or think I’m hounding her. For some odd reason, I genuinely like her and want to spend more time with her.

Maybe it’s because she seems to know Sweet Briar and cared about the revitalization project. Or it’s the fact that when I look at her, I feel like I’ve met her. I should’ve asked if she spent any time in California, maybe that is where we’ve crossed paths.

The message I have to her is generic, leaving plenty of room to open a conversation. That is what I want. I want to get her talking and see if she’ll open up via text before I even tempt fate by asking her out again. Of course, with her ex in the picture and the sort of other man she’s dating her social calendar is probably filling up fast. I erase the message I have and retype a new one:

I quickly send the message and pocket my phone, turning my attention back to the job site. Everything is coming along smoothly. The concrete basement is in with the exterior walls going up. The construction crew that won the bid on the job has been working their tails off, in hopes of finishing early. If they do, they get a bonus—which is something Parker offered after he notified the company they won the bid. I should probably ask him if I get one, too. Not that I need one, but it’s nice to be rewarded sometimes.

Every few minutes, I’m tempted to check my phone, but the ringer is on and I should hear if a message comes in. I haven’t felt this anxious since Jenica started texting me about being in the club. I’m trying not to let it bother me that I haven’t heard from her either. Stupidly, I checked my rating after the night in the dark room and it was good, so one would think my friend would set up another meeting … but for what? Other than spanking, I can’t think of a single thing we haven’t done, so maybe there won’t be another call. She got what she wanted or needed.

We both had needs that were fulfilled within those walls. Hers were a little more … I don’t even know. I still can’t wrap my head around taking her virginity when I don’t even know her name. In fact, it’s weighing heavily on me. I need to know if she’s okay and want to know if I hurt her in anyway. I fully went into the dark room expecting straight up sex, but wasn’t prepared to hear those words.

It’s hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that she had to use the club to what … learn? Is that what she was doing? I try to think back to my blowjob. It was amazing. Definitely one of the best ones I have ever received. I would’ve never thought it was her first time. But when I went to return the favor, she was shy and timid, enough that I almost walked out of the room because nervousness was coming off of her in droves. I was nervous, too, though. I hated that I had regulated myself to seeking sexual companionship in a seedy club.

By the time lunch rolls around, my phone beeps. I can’t even lie and say that I was completely casual about checking because I wasn’t. I pulled my phone out of my pants so fast that it went flying across the floor. Pastor Larry was nice enough to pick it up and hand it back to me.

“Lady friend?” he asks, nodding toward the phone.

I glance quickly at the screen and see that it’s from Dria. I can’t keep the smile off my face even without knowing what her reply is. “A friend,” I tell him. I hope I can call her that, if not more, if she allows us to hang out. The polite thing to do is to put my phone away, but I can’t. I have to know.

My internal fist is pumping while my brain is screaming YES! She left it open for more conversation and a possible date. I know I can play it smooth and chat back but that’s not me. I’m a go get ‘em type, and when I see something or someone, as in this case, I go for it.

After I send her the text, I attach a few images of the job sites I’ve been at today so she can see the progress we’re making. Putting my phone face down, I turn my attention to Pastor Larry and the women of the congregation.

“Tell us, Kai, are you fitting in?” one lady asks.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Do you like Portland?” another inquires. “I find it too busy.”

I take a quick drink of my water before answering. “I do like it, but I’m from the city. I do have to say though, I like Sweet Briar a lot and can see why Mr. Ward is so eager to help.”

“We need more people like you and my daughter, putting down roots here. It’s what’s going to build this town back up,” Pastor Larry adds.

“Oh yes, having Lexi here would be so pleasant. Have you met her yet, Kai?” another lady asks.

I shake my head. “No, sorry. I’m fairly busy.”

“He has a lady friend, Martha,” Pastor Larry says. I chuckle slightly at usage of “lady friend” and wonder what it’s like to live with the old-fashioned rules. Hell, I don’t know how men resisted women until marriage. By the time I was eighteen I was having sex with any willing woman and never even gave it a second thought when I was about to lose my virginity at a party. It was more like a hurrah moment for me.

I’m well on my way home when Dria texts back, agreeing to dinner. Breaking the ‘no texting and driving’ law, I tell her that I’ll pick her up and we’ll go to a casual place. I don’t want her stressing about what to wear.

As soon as I get home, I shower and make a reservation at a local restaurant that Parker suggested. I asked him for a place to take a casual date and he gave me a list. I don’t know how long he and his wife have been married, but I do wonder if he was a player before he married Mia.

With the reservation made, I head over to Dria’s. I’m a bit early so I circle the block a few times, checking out the houses in her neighborhood. Most of them are rundown, which for me makes a good investment. I have been thinking about getting into the flip market. It’s profitable and I have the means and skills to get the job done. It also gives me something else to focus on while I’m in town.

Pulling up to Dria’s with five minutes to spare, I rush to her door to get her. If anything, I’m a gentleman. I’ll greet her at her door, open the car door, hold the door at the restaurant, and walk her to her door at night, even if this is our last date. I barely knock when she opens the door, standing there with a creamy yellow sundress on. In her hand she’s holding a sweater, prepared for the cooler night ahead. But it’s the way her hair is pulled up off her neck and her sun-kissed skin that has me at a loss for words. She’s beautiful and I know that without a doubt I will pursue her if she allows me to.

I clear my throat. “Sorry, tongue tied. You look lovely,” I tell her as I offer her my arm. She steps out of her house and makes sure her door is locked before placing her arm in mine.

“Thank you, you dress up nicely,” she replies with a smile.

“I can put the top up,” I offer as I help her into the car.

“No, I think I’d like to feel the wind in my hair.”

I’d like to feel my fingers in your hair, but I don’t say that to her. Instead, I rush around to the other side and get in. I take the back roads to head toward downtown so I can avoid the freeway. I’d rather sit in stop and go traffic with Dria as long as possible.

At the restaurant, talk is limited. This isn’t exactly the intimate place I was hoping for. There’s a band and it’s rather loud. We eat mostly in silence because neither of us is fond of yelling at each other to have a conversation. I’ll be sure to point this out to Parker when I see him next.

After dinner, I take her hand and walk her toward the waterfront. I’m not ready for the date to end. Surprisingly she doesn’t let go, but I’m not willing to read anything into it. Dria points out different sites and talks about how in early June the Navy ships will come in and dock for Fleet Week, and how there will be numerous celebrations throughout the downtown area. She tells me about the Saturday market and how it’s the best place to get fresh vegetables and homemade goods.

“We should go tomorrow,” I suggest. Anything I can do to spend more time with her.

“I can pick you up,” she tells me to which I nod eagerly. “It’s only from ten to five, so we should probably go early.”

When I drop her off, I kiss her cheek. My lips linger there for a moment, mostly because she feels so damn familiar. Everything about her seems memorable and I can’t put my finger on it. She’s definitely one of a kind and must have a doppelganger out in the world that I have come across before.

“I’ll see you around ten,” she says. “That way we can spend the day there.”

I quickly text my address and kiss her again because I simply can’t get enough of her. Maybe tonight was a starting point for us. She didn’t seem agitated or stressed out. Dria wasn’t the same as she was when we went hiking last week, and for that I’m thankful. She didn’t fill my night by telling me she wasn’t interested in anything. In fact, she sort of led me to believe something could happen.

All I know is that tomorrow, I plan to be the same Kai that I am right now. I won’t push her, but you can bet your ass I’m going to flirt like there’s no tomorrow. Before I pull away from her curb, I text Jenica and ask her to set something up with the woman I’ve been with. Deep down, I’m hoping Jenica comes back and says she’s not interested, this way I can move on without this quasi-romance looming over my head.