The rest of the first week of school flew by. I worked again on Thursday evening, and Charise gave me a lift home. She simply claimed she drove right past my house so it made sense, and I was grateful. But I didn’t work with her on Friday night, and after closing up, I had a very uneventful walk home by myself. I had a morning shift on Saturday, which went by in a busy blur, but all I was looking forward to was spending the afternoon with Peter.

We’d spoken every night on the phone. But we’d never gone back to the conversation we’d had about the whole daddy-needs, and to be truthful, I hadn’t given it another thought. Peter was more to me than an older guy who liked his men younger. He was so much more than that. It wasn’t all there was to him. It didn’t define him, as much as what I’d been through didn’t define me.

Just after two, I’d showered after work and came downstairs just as the doorbell rang. Peter, wearing dress shorts again with a polo shirt and looking incredible, greeted me with a smile and a kiss on my cheek that made my heart skip a beat. “You ready?” he asked.

“Sure! What did you have planned?”

“Well, seeing as though we’ve missed the last two Charlie Chaplin matinees, I thought we could go shopping for the DVD collection, grab some snacks, and have dinner. How does that sound?”

“We uh, we don’t have a DVD player.”

“We can watch it at my place if you want?”

My stomach did a swoony-jittery thing. “That sounds perfect.”

“Not too boring?”

“Are you kidding? It would totally be my perfect date. Or non-date,” I amended. I assumed that’s what we were still calling them. Then I stuck my head around the doorway to the living room, where George was watching cartoons. “I’ll be back later tonight.”

He gave me a peace sign, and I looked back at Peter. “Ready when you are.”

We hit Peter’s local mall and found a store with wall-to-wall DVDs and CDs. I’d spent a lot of time with Peter, but never in a shopping situation outside of the thrift store, and I thought it would be a good chance for me to see how he reacted and behaved in a retail environment. I highly doubted he was the type to treat a sales person like crap, but it was a true test of character to witness how someone treated people they thought beneath them.

Like my ex had. He thought everyone was beneath him, and maybe if I’d seen how he treated waitstaff, cashiers, or sales staff earlier in our relationship, I could have gotten out sooner. God, I would’ve run a mile.

I should’ve never doubted Peter. A girl, maybe seventeen, a little heavyset with pink hair and braces, greeted us. “Can I help you guys with anything?”

“Yes, thank you,” Peter said kindly. “We’re looking for Charlie Chaplin films or the collection if you have them?”

“Let’s have a look,” she said, urging him along to a computer at the sales desk. They chatted about classics, and I watched on as Peter listened to her opinions on Hepburn and Grant as they checked the system for what he’d asked for. Then he followed her to one shelf in particular, still chatting away, and he grinned when she found him the box set. “Is that the one you want?”

Peter held it out to me. “Yanni?”

It was the digitally remastered complete collection of Charlie Chaplin. “Perfect!”

“We’ll take it,” Peter said. Then he turned back to me. “Is there anything else you want?”

Surprised, I shook my head. “No.”

He gave the sales girl a smile. “That’s it, then.” He paid, a crazy amount of money I might add, tipped her, and thanked her again for being so helpful, and we left.

“What are you smiling at?” he asked as we walked to the grocery store.

“You. You were very nice to her.”

He made a face and looked at me, confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

And that right there was why Peter Hannikov was a good man. He was nothing like my ex. Nothing. “What snacks do you like?” I asked.

Peter seemed to consider for a moment. “Popcorn is always good. Though truthfully, I should be eating fruit. The gym’s killing me.”

I laughed. “That’s why I don’t go.”

He chuckled. “You don’t go because you don’t need to. I, on the other hand, need to. Doctor’s orders.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “Proactive health. Heart, blood pressure, blood sugar. That kind of thing.”

“Oh. But you look great!”

“Because I slog it out at the gym four days a week.”

I slid my arm through his and leaned into him as we walked. “Well, then, we shall get unbuttered popcorn and some fresh fruit for a platter. How does that sound?”

Peter leaned into me too. His smile was shy and thankful, adorable. “Perfect.”

It was fun in the market with him. He held the basket and I smelled the fruit before choosing the very best. When I said I didn’t need to smell the bananas because I picked the biggest and firmest, then blushed every shade of red, he laughed and put his arm around me. He picked some yogurt and I found the popcorn, and we were soon on our way to his place.

I was a little nervous about going to his house. I knew we’d be alone and isolated. If I found myself in a situation I didn’t want to be in, I’d be in trouble. But this nervousness was a pleasant feeling. I’ve known dread, that curdling weight in the pit of my stomach, and this was far from that. This was anticipation.

I tried to tamp it down, but of course, Peter noticed something was off.

“You okay?” He’d parked his car in front and we’d walked to his portico, carrying our bags of movies and snacks, and he’d eyed me cautiously as he opened the door. “You’re a little quiet.”

“I’m fine.” I smiled nervously.

He frowned briefly before opening his door and holding it for me. His house was very nice. Furnished like some magazine, everything was perfectly neat. There was a dark leather sofa facing a huge flat screen TV, one of those fancy chaise lounge with cushions that matched those on the sofa. A coffee table on a rug and expensive-looking art completed the room. There was a dining table with an orchid in the center, high-backed chairs all neatly in place, and his kitchen was marble and stainless steel.

I suddenly felt very out of my depth. He was a bright and shiny million dollars, and I was a dirty nickel.

Peter put his bags on the kitchen counter and waited for me to do the same before he took my hands. My breath caught, and I was sure I looked like a deer in headlights.

“Yanni, you’re not stuck here. If you want to leave, you just say and I’ll take you.”

I licked my lips and swallowed. “It’s not that. I do trust you. If that’s what you mean. I feel safe with you. It’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“Your house is very nice. Very fancy. Everything is so lovely.” I looked around me. “And I’m wearing second-hand clothes.”

Peter’s mouth fell open before he thought to close it. He blinked, then shook his head. “No. No, that’s not true. You’re… this house is just full of material things. At the end of the day, they’re meaningless, not important. But you… Yanni, you’re worth more than words can describe. Everything in this house can be replaced, but not you.” He put his hands to my face, and I thought for a second he was going to kiss me. I hoped he would. I wanted him to. I wanted to feel the warmth of his lips… He caressed my cheekbone with his thumb, and I licked my lips again. His eyes caught the flick of my tongue and his nostrils flared. He took a deep breath, slowly dropped his hands, and took a small step back. His voice was gruff and warm. “You are perfect exactly as you are.”

When I realized he wasn’t going to kiss me, embarrassment seeped through me. I chuckled to cover my rejection. “I have a therapist who would disagree with that.”

Peter smiled, though it was more sad than happy. He ignored my mention of therapy. “Can I show you the rest of my house? And you can see it’s just a house.”

Realizing my words had hurt him, which was never my intention, I gave a nod. He took my hand and led me through the kitchen. It was a single-story bungalow-style home. “Two bedrooms. Mine is the farthest down the hall, the spare room is here,” he said, waving to the open door. “It only gets used if one of the guys has too much to drink after poker night. Bathroom is here and laundry.”

“I miss Mrs Landon’s laundry.”

Peter chuckled. “Yes. If you want to bring your laundry over, you can do it here while we watch a movie.”

He took me back to the kitchen and opened the pantry door, then the fridge. “Food, fridge. You can just help yourself. You don’t need to ask for anything.”

He really was the very opposite of my ex.

“It’s just a house,” Peter said sadly. “It’s just a fridge. But they’re just things. You are worth so much more than that.”

I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry if I hurt you by what I said.”

“If I’ve ever made you feel anything less than you are―”

I shook my head. “No, no. You’ve always been so good to me. What I said before was a reflection of me, not you. I’m sorry I said it.”

“Don’t apologize for telling me how you feel.”

I closed my eyes and breathed in deep. “I’m still sorry. I ruined our perfect day.”

“Did you want to go home?”

My eyes shot to his. Panic struck at my chest. “No. Do you want me to leave?”

He shook his head slowly. “No.”

“I want to watch a movie with you and eat fruit and popcorn.” I realized then that I was still holding his hand, so I gave it another squeeze. “If that’s okay?”

He let go of my hand and put his fingers to my hair, softly brushing a wayward curl off my forehead. He seemed to take in my whole face before he spoke. “Why don’t you go in and unpack the DVDs, pick one, and get it started, and I’ll sort out the snacks.”

His gaze, his gentle touch, left me warm all over. I nodded and did as he asked. The box of DVDs had a cellophane cover, and by the time I had that pulled off, I had a supervisor. A cat sat near the coffee table watching my every move. “Oh, hello. You must be Neenish.”

She stared at me, and Peter chuckled from the kitchen. “She sits on the windowsill in the sun. It’s like she’s solar powered.”

I smiled at her, and after long consideration, she deemed the crinkling sound of the cellophane paper worthy of a closer inspection. She hopped up onto the coffee table and sniffed. “Is she allowed on the coffee table?” I asked Peter.

He scoffed. “Well, we’ve discussed boundaries. I set them; she disregards them.”

That made me laugh. I let Neenish smell the back of my hand before giving her a pat, which she didn’t object to. I picked a movie and fed it into the DVD player just as Peter came into the room with a plate and a bowl. He set them on the coffee table and scooped up Neenish, gave her a quick scratch behind the ear, and set her down on the floor. “No snacks for you,” he told her before walking back into the kitchen. “I’ll just grab drinks. Which one are we watching?”

“The Circus. Is that okay?”

“Perfect. Water okay or soda?”

“Water, please.”

I sat on the sofa, leaving a spot for Peter, and he came back in and handed me a bottle of water before he sat back down. We were close enough that our shoulders were almost touching. But as the movie rolled on, we ate our platter of fruit and handfuls of popcorn, laughing at Chaplin’s comedic grace, and soon our shoulders and arms were touching.

We’d somehow leaned into each other and Peter didn’t seem to mind. I certainly didn’t. I leaned forward to put the bowl back on the coffee table and settled back into my spot, just as Neenish decided to jump up onto Peter’s lap. But she didn’t stop on him. She walked over him to get to me. She simply walked onto my lap and plonked herself down.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Peter said with a disbelieving laugh. “Traitor.”

“Leave her alone,” I joked, giving her a pat. “She knows a quality seat when she sees one.”

Peter’s cheeks went pink. “Mmm.” He got up quickly, taking the empty plate and bowl back to the kitchen. I had to think about what I’d said, then I wondered if he liked the idea of sitting on me… or being seated in me.

My blood warmed at that thought. I knew which I’d prefer. Or using him as a seat…

Jesus.

It had been so long since I’d had sexual thoughts. It had been so long since I’d wanted anything physical. My sexual appetite had been taken away from me, replaced with unpleasant things I tried not to think about.

I knew in my heart, I was a long way off from actually being ready to be sexual again, but the fact my brain was making these leaps and my body was reacting to them was a sure sign that every day I was a little more ready than the day before.

I was healing.

“Would you like another drink?” Peter called out.

I let out a slow and steady breath. “Yes, thank you.”

We watched another movie, one that Peter had to choose and put on because―I pointed to my lap with the still-purring cat―I was stuck. And after that, we stayed on the couch and talked. I asked him about his travels. He’d mentioned it before, so I listened, smiling along with him as he recalled the months he spent backpacking after college before coming back to work his ass off.

Neenish had long ago decided my usefulness had expired, and now I sat with one leg tucked up under my ass, facing him. Peter sat side on to me, with one arm along the back of the sofa, the other resting in his lap. I don’t know why or where I got the courage from, but I took his hand from the back of the sofa and held it between us.

I liked to touch him. It felt natural to be close to him. If it was crossing boundaries, I wasn’t sure. Peter didn’t seem to mind at all.

When he mentioned dinner, I hadn’t even realized it had grown dark outside. “What do you feel like?” he asked. “We can order in from anywhere.”

I thought about all the possibilities… “You know what I feel like? And this is strange, so you’ll probably laugh. But I feel like scrambled eggs on toast.”

Laugh, he did. “We can make that here.” He got up from the couch and, still holding my hand, pulled me to my feet. “You can be on toast duties.”

He whisked some eggs in a bowl and slid them into a frying pan. I popped some bread into the toaster, and soon enough we were sitting at his dining table eating scrambled eggs. I told him what I was doing in classes, what shifts I was working, and as we cleaned up afterward, he spoke of some big account he had to work on this week as well.

When everything was clean and there was nothing else to do, we both stood in the kitchen. The air was suddenly electric, for me at least. It was like this was it, all pretenses were over, and I had no other reason to be there alone with him except for…

“I should probably get you home,” he said. His voice was rough, and he fidgeted with his hands like he wanted to touch me but couldn’t, and I was pretty sure taking me home was the last thing he wanted to do. “I’m supposed to be at the gym at seven in the morning.”

I nodded, partly relieved that he was setting limits, partly disappointed. “You really do take the whole healthy heart thing seriously.”

He half-nodded, half-shrugged. “My father died at forty-four of a heart attack.”

Oh shit. “God, I’m sorry. That was a callous thing for me to say.”

He raised his hand. “No, heart disease was the least of his worries. He drank a lot and he… was an angry man. I was seventeen.”

A rush of understanding washed over me, and I stepped closer to him, putting my hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“That’s why you don’t drink,” I said. It wasn’t a question.

Peter gave me a sad smile. “Yeah. I knew pretty early on I would be nothing like him.”

Now it was me who reached up and ran my fingers through his hair. He didn’t have to paint me a picture: a father who was an angry drunk didn’t need explaining. “You’re the kindest, gentlest man I’ve ever met.”

He studied me for a long moment, his eyes exploring mine, seeing into my very soul. I felt exposed but somehow not vulnerable. I felt a security with him I’d not felt in a long, long time. Suddenly there was an electric static in the air, the room felt too small, and the distance between us was far too wide. I almost stepped in close. I almost told him to kiss me…

He looked away, breaking the intense moment between us, before looking back to me. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Laundry.”

“You can bring it here if you like?”

“Well, I already told Jordan I’d go to the laundromat with her. But I’m free in the afternoon, by twelve-ish?”

He grimaced. “Shit. I just remembered. I’m meeting the guys to watch the game tomorrow night. We usually get there a little early. But there’s probably an hour or two where I could come over.”

“It’s fine,” I said, trying not to sound too disappointed. “I should probably get some prep work done for school anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. He seemed as disappointed as me, which was a comfort. “An afternoon at the library won’t hurt me.”

“Why the library? Isn’t everything online?”

“I don’t have a computer.”

“Oh.” He made a face, then brightened like he just thought of something. “I have an old laptop you can have.”

A laptop? “No, I can’t take that.”

“Seriously, it’s four years old and has sat in the bottom of my closet for two years. I get updated every two years through work, and I always meant to give it to those refurbish places that take old technology and clean them up to sell or give away or whatever.” He put his hand on my arm. “I’ll go grab it, and you can take a look.”

He darted out of the room and came back a moment later with a black satchel. He slid the bag onto the kitchen counter and took out the laptop. It was, just as he’d said, an older model laptop, and a little dusty. He opened the laptop and blew on the keyboard. “It hasn’t been switched on or charged in years, so I don’t even know if it still works. It should. The hard drive has been cleaned, all my work has been taken off it, and it’s basically back to factory settings. It’s yours if you want it.”

“Oh. I can’t just take a laptop…”

“I was just gonna give it away. I’d prefer you took it.” He slid the laptop back into the carry bag and dusted it off a bit. He seemed pleased that he could do this for me, but his smile died when he saw the look on my face. “You don’t have to take it. It was just an idea.”

“I appreciate it. I really do, and it would be really helpful.” I couldn’t deny that. “But you’ve already given me so much, and the Landons have given me everything, including my phone. I feel a bit like a charity case.”

Hurt crossed his face and he frowned. “You’re not a charity case. I offered it because you need one and I have one that literally just sits unused. It’s not anything new or flashy. It’s just practical.” His eyebrows knit together. “You’re not a charity case, Yanni.”

Great. Now I’d made him feel bad. I hated that I’d put that on him. He was just trying to be helpful, and I’d thrown it back in his face. “Hey.” I stepped in close and put my hand over his. “Thank you. I know you meant well, and I’m grateful. A laptop would be a great help. I don’t have Wi-Fi at home, but if I need to do research, I can take it to a café or something, but I can type up my assessments on it.”

“So you’ll take it?”

I leaned against him and kissed his cheek. “Yes, thank you.”

His breath caught, and when I pulled back, there was something in his eyes I couldn’t put a name to. Want? Fear? Both?

“I should get you home,” he whispered.

I nodded. “Okay.”

The drive to my place was kinda quiet. I wouldn’t call it awkward, but something between us had changed. I was pretty sure he felt what I felt. Though where I had feared putting myself out there again, his was more than likely unease at getting close to someone with so much baggage. Like he was warring between want and trepidation.

I was, after all, damaged goods.

He pulled up out front of my place. “Thank you,” I said. “For the laptop, but also for today. I had a great day with you.”

The crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he looked at me and smiled were more pronounced by the dashboard light. “I did too.” He did that peaceful staring-at-me thing. “When will I see you again?”

“Well, I work Tuesday, have my therapy appointment, then dinner with the Landons on Wednesday, then work again on Thursday and Friday nights. So, next Saturday?” God, it seemed so far away.

He sighed. “Okay.”

“I’ll call you, though, and text. And you can call me whenever.”

He smiled again and gave me a nod before he leaned over the console. I leaned in too, meeting him halfway, and he kissed my cheek. Soft lips and hard stubble made my insides swoop, and scorching hot butterflies took flight.

“Goodnight,” he murmured.

Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded and got out of his car. Not until I had my front door open and waved did he drive away. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, smiling. “Is that you, Yanni?” Jordan asked from inside.

“Yep.” I set the alarm and went into the living room. Jordan was sitting on the edge of the sofa with her legs curled up, and I joined her. “Hey. How was your night?”

“Not as good as yours.” She raised a questioning eyebrow, her lips curled upwards.

I laughed. “I had a good day.”

“So… Peter, huh?”

“Nothing’s happened. Well, a lot of static and butterflies. He kissed my cheek, and I thought I was going to die.”

Jordan’s smile widened. “But you want it to happen?”

“Yes, eventually. I’m not ready, I don’t think. I mean, I get the nerves and heart palpitations when he looks at me, but I’m pretty sure if things were to go… there… I’d freak out.”

She nodded like she got it. And who knew, maybe she understood completely. She nodded toward the carry bag I’d put at my feet. “What have you got there?”

“Oh, Peter had an old laptop stored away. He gave it to me. I don’t even know if it works, but he wanted me to have it.” I pulled the laptop out of the bag and flipped the lid. “Do you know much about laptops?”

She smiled. “Uh, a bit.”

“Should we see if it works?”

“Sure.”

I pulled out the cord and plugged it in and waited for it to boot up. After a lot of whirring and thinking, the home screen blinked on.

I snorted. “Well, that was easier than I thought.”

Jordan laughed. “It looks good. It’s a few years old, but it’s a good model. And he just gave it to you?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re lucky.”

“I know.” I shrugged. “I kinda feel bad, like a bit of a charity case, but I know that’s not what he meant.”

“Don’t feel bad.” Jordan looked at me like I was crazy. “Jeez. I wish I had a sugar daddy who gave me stuff. Well,” she frowned. “A sugar momma.”

I snorted, and she blushed. I gently nudged her with my elbow. “Still on for laundry duty tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” I closed the laptop, unplugged the cord, and shoved it back into the bag. “Then I’ll see you after breakfast. Night.”

She nodded, and I left her to watch her movie in peace. I climbed the stairs, got ready for bed, and locked my door. I plugged the laptop back in so it could charge overnight, double-checked the window was locked, and climbed into bed. I considered pulling my backpack into bed with me but left it on the wall side of the bed.

It was a small step, but I felt good about it.

I sighed at the ceiling and my thoughts soon turned to Peter. My stomach felt all jittery, and even though the conflicting thoughts battled with each other, I smiled. I rolled over and plugged my phone into the charger, hesitated, then quickly sent him a text.

Thank you for today. And thank you for the laptop. It works just fine :) Have fun tomorrow.

His reply came through a few moments later. You’re more than welcome. Sweet dreams.

I slid my phone onto my bedside table, and just like he said, for the first time in a long time, I had the sweetest dreams. Of laughter and sunshine, and safe arms and sure hands, and eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled.