Chapter Seven
Cade
Serena is walking toward the door before my mind catches up and processes that she has agreed to have dinner with me. When she reaches the door, she looks over her shoulder at me, smiles, and I scramble to my feet, throwing bills on the bar, snatching up the napkin with the address, and making my way out after her.
I love that Serena has no idea who I am. And damn, it was cute how she believed me when I told her the Super Bowl is decided by who hits the most homeruns. I appreciate that she has a career and a goal for her life. Wanting to reach kids and get them as excited about science as she obviously is, that’s admirable, and I find myself wishing I knew a way to help her.
When I reach my car, I see her pulling away. I’m in my car as fast as I can be, unfolding the napkin in one hand while unlocking my phone with the other, typing the address in and letting the phone guide me as I pull into traffic.
The restaurant isn’t far, ten minutes, and I am surprised by her choice as get out of my car and walk to the door where she’s waiting. “This isn’t what I expected.”
“I’m a simple girl, Cade, with simple tastes, and this is the best Mexican restaurant in town. I eat here two or three times a week during the school year.”
“Really?”
“Really,” she affirms.
She grabs my hand to tug me forward. My pulse quickens.
“Come on,” she insists.
We’re seated fairly quickly, despite how busy the restaurant is. Chips and salsa appear at our table almost immediately, and a waitress comes by to take our drink order a few moments later. We look over our menus in silence, and when the waitress comes back with our drinks, we’re both ready to order. Once the waitress leaves again, I look over at Serena.
“So,” I start, not sure what to say next.
“So...” she repeats at my pause, smiling at me in a way that does something to me I can’t explain. “Are you from Los Angeles?”
“No, I moved here seventeen years ago. I’m originally from Chicago. What about you?”
“Born and raised.”
“Was it like it is on TV?” I question.
She laughs. “Not when you’re a science nerd. Far, far from it. What about you?”
“It wasn’t terrible,” I tell her. I was the star quarterback with the head cheerleader girlfriend and every other girl offering me anything I wanted. Of course, it wasn’t terrible. But I keep that to myself.
“What is Chicago like?”
“Cold, very cold, except for like sixty days in the summer.”
“Really?”
“Yep; it’s very different than here, that’s for sure. But it’s a beautiful city, and I go back and visit my parents as often as I can.”
“Is it scary? I hear the crime rate is crazy.”
“There are bad parts of any city,” I say diplomatically. “Even L.A. But there are some parts of town I wouldn't recommend going into by yourself.” I take a sip of my drink as she nods.
“That’s true.”
“Tell me about your sister,” I suggest. “I’m thinking I should send her some flowers as a thank you for making you go out on a date this week.”
Serena’s laugh is like a melody. Best laugh I’ve ever heard. Hands down.
“Ashley is a free spirit, very bohemian. She paints for a living, and she still lives with our parents, so you know, a true artiste,” she winks. “Seriously, though. I love her, she’s my sister, even though I’m positive she thinks I’m more than a little uptight and that I should date more than I do. Most men I meet, I can tell right away that they aren’t someone I want to spend time with. I’m not interested in wasting my time, you know? I don’t know exactly what I want, but when I find it, I like to think I’ll know.”
“I get that. Actually, that kind of perfectly sums up the confusion in my head. I don’t know what I want to do next, but when I come across the right opportunity, I hope I’ll know.”
“I’m sure you will,” she tells me, reaching across to squeeze my fingers with hers. Her touch lingers for a moment, but the spell is broken seconds later when our waitress comes to check on our drinks.
We settle into an easy conversation after that. We talk a little about our childhoods, I ask Serena more about her job, and she slips in a few more science jokes, some I even get. She asks me more about what I do, but I’m vague, not wanting to admit I’m a professional athlete and ruin her not knowing who I am. It’s so nice to be able to converse with someone with no expectations. I’m also just taken by her. She’s intelligent, funny, self-assured, and low maintenance. It is a refreshing change of pace from Josephine, and I find myself hanging on to her every word.
After we eat, Serena orders dessert, and we end up sharing an order of sopapillas. I like that not only did she eat a full meal, she got dessert, too. Josephine never orders dessert, and I’m lucky if she picks at a salad when we go out. Being around a woman who eats like a real person is fantastic. I snag the bill before she can and ignore her protests to split it with me.
“I asked you to dinner, so I pay,” I tell her. “That’s what a gentleman does.”
“But this isn’t a date,” she protested.
“Yes, it is. You promised your sister one date this week, and I’ve delivered on that. I’m paying.”
“Fine,” she sighs, seeing that I won’t give in.
As we walk out to her car, I grab her hand to slow her pace. “You should come over to my place for a drink,” I tell her, not wanting the evening to be over.
“I don’t know...”
“We’ve spent the last two hours together. Haven’t I proved I’m not a serial killer?”
She laughs. “That’s exactly what a serial killer would say to lure you to their house.”
“Maybe. But, truth is... I’m not quite ready for this to be over. So, do something with me. Anything.”
“I have classes to teach tomorrow.”
“I won’t keep you out past midnight, Cinderella.”
She looks at me for another moment, then sighs. “Okay. Fine. What’s your address?”
My smile turns victorious. Elation courses through me as I mentally pump my fist. Serena grabs her phone to type in my address. I wait for her to get in her vehicle and start out before jogging over to my truck. She pulls out behind me, and I am mindful of her following me, trying not to get separated from her, but knowing she’s got the GPS in case we do.
The drive to my place is maybe thirty minutes, and I feel myself getting nervous as we pull into the driveway. She parks beside me, and we both step out of our vehicles at almost the same time.
“That's a lot of house for one guy,” she comments.
She's not wrong; my house is two stories and twenty thousand square feet with seven bedrooms and ten bathrooms. I still have no idea why I need that many more bathrooms than bedrooms.
“What did you say you do again?”
“Athletic personnel support.”
“So, like an agent?”
“Something like that,” I reply, still purposefully vague. “Let's go inside, I'll give you the tour.”
Just inside the door, I punch in my alarm code after letting her in. I kick my shoes off in the entryway and she does the same, leaving her heels beside my shoes. I like being barefoot at home, and I especially like that she is willing to go barefoot in my house without a second thought. I thread Serena's arm through mine and walk further inside, pointing out the living room and the dining room as I head for the kitchen. There's a bar in another room, but there's also football paraphernalia all over that room, much of it showing me in uniform, so I'm avoiding it.
“What can I get you to drink?” I ask.
“Water?”
“Of course.” I grab two glasses and fill them with ice and then water. “Would you like to sit outside? We can sit by the pool or on the patio?”
“The patio sounds nice.”
I lead the way, and we settle outside. It's a nice night, but I turn on the patio heater, anyway. Our conversation picks right up from where it left off at the restaurant, and it's the easiest I've ever found interacting with a woman to be. Before I know it, thirty minutes have passed and once again, I'm hanging on every word she says.
“How do you organize a space party?” Serena asks me randomly. I know it’s another of her jokes.
“How?”
“You planet.”
I stare at her a beat before starting to laugh and shake my head. “You are like no woman I have ever met before,” I tell her.
“Now who's got the lame jokes?”
“It's not a joke.”
“That's definitely a line.”
“I swear it's not a line, I mean it. I've spent too much time around shallow, Hollywood types, and you are so much more than that. You’re real and honest and just you. I've really enjoyed myself tonight with you.”
“Thank you, Cade. I've enjoyed tonight, too.”
I reach over and grab the arm of the chair she’s sitting in to pull her chair closer to me. She laughs that mesmerizing laugh of hers as I do. When she right next to me, I lean in, brushing her hair behind her ear. Her laughter fades, and our eyes lock. Cupping her chin in my hand, I move in, brushing my lips over hers as her eyes flutter closed. It's whisper soft to start, but I can feel the flame start to burn as she kisses me back. I feel her tongue dart out across my bottom lip, and I give her the access she seeks.
When we pull apart, the air is charged around us, and I say exactly what's on my mind.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since you sat next to me at the bar. And, I’ve wanted to take you to bed since the moment you smiled at me, but I don't want you to think I'm just being a horny dude.”
“I don't think you're just a horny dude,” she whispers.
I push back from the table and flick off the heater before grabbing her hands and pulling her out of her chair. I lift her easily, my hands on the back of her thighs and her legs wrapped around me.
“Tell me no,” I say to her.
Instead, she says exactly what I want to hear.
“Yes.”