Chapter 6

• I quickly glance at my phone to check the time. I finish the last of my latte with a disappointed smile. I don't want to end this quick date, and unlike anything I've ever done before, I summon all my courage to ask for a second date. "All right, dinner. Where am I? I can make a mean tamale," I say half-jokingly.
• Julian's mouth curves upward into a cocky grin before he bites down, softly teasing me. “Tonight?”
• "Wow... tonight." I mentally go over my to-do list once more. Charlie would have politely tried to reschedule. Work has always come first, but I'm tired of the boundaries I've set for myself.
• The old has gone, and the new has arrived.
• "Wait a minute. Yes. Tonight will be ideal."
• "Whither yours or mine?"
• "How about yours?" I make the suggestion selfishly, knowing that I can squeeze in a few more hours of work after he leaves. "I'll text you my phone number."
• “Perfect.” Julian checks his watch but quickly apologizes for being impolite.
• "No, I understand. I, too, have a lot of work to do."
• Julian and I are both standing at the same time. His hands are wrapped around my waist, and he runs his thumb down my cheek and across my bottom lip gently. My pulse starts racing again, this time toward my hammering heart echoing beneath my chest. I shift my gaze away from his intense stare and toward his lips, desperate to taste them on my own.
• Julian leans in slowly, brushing his lips against mine as I close my eyes and enjoy the warm sensation that ishes over me.
• We both catch our breath as we pull away at an agonizing pace.
• I didn't think it was possible to feel everything Julian has made me feel with just one kiss for the longest time. Perhaps I'm insane for falling prey to his charm.
• But I'm not eighteen anymore.
• I'm no longer a bumbling adolescent.
• “Tonight?”
• "Tonight," I say back, tilting my head to kiss him again.
• The knock on my door reverberates throughout the apartment.
• I walk toward the door, wiping my hands on my apron, and open it to reveal a dashing Julian dressed in navy chinos and a white buttoned-collared shirt. I struggle to hold back my desire to touch and explore his body in ways my single-woman mind has imagined the past few nights, with a grin smothering his already handsome face.
• "Well, hello, lovely."
• Julian hands me a bottle of wine, which will go perfectly with the meal I've prepared. I take it from him, grasp his hand, and shut the door behind him.
• "Is this your place?" He scans the living room, a curious smile on his face. "That's really nice."
• "Do you mean small by nice?"
• "This is Manhattan. In comparison to other apartments I've seen, it's a good size."
• "Do you want to go on a tour? However, I must warn you that it will take 0:02 seconds."
• "But first..." He removes the bottle from my grasp and places it on the coffee table. He pulls me in with his hands around my back, his hand back up to my chin. With a quick breath, he pulls my face closer to his, so close that I can almost taste him. I wait for him to kiss me, slightly tilting my head. Our desperate need to kiss is heightened by our breaths mingling in such an intimate space.
• I wrap my hands around his neck, forcing him to kiss me passionately.
• With lust driving our bodies, I press harder against his mouth, releasing the long-awaited moan that has built up inside of me.
• Julian reacts quickly, tightening his grip on my a$$ as his body presses up against mine. My shallow mind immediately notices his rock hard cock pressing between us.
• I try to catch my breath by pulling away. "Did you still want to go on the tour?"
• "Yes," he murmurs, putting his lips back on mine. "Take the lead, Miss Mason."
• Coco, desperate for attention, purrs on the couch.
• "My name is Coco."
• "Is that a ragdoll?" Coco, of course, laps up all the attention as he gently pats her fur. "We had one when we were kids."
• I grab the bottle of wine and his hand, then quickly show him the two bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen, and dining area. The apartment, which I bought a year ago, is a true testament to my hard work over the years. I adore Manhattan and have no plans to relocate anytime soon.
• "It's a lovely place you've created for yourself," he says before turning his gaze to the countertop where I've been attempting to make tamales. "Everything smells delicious."
• "If my mother taught me anything, it was this. Should we eat?"
• We take a seat at the small dining table inside the warm kitchen. A candle is burning between us, a romantic scent Eric gave me to help me find love. He believes in all things strange, much like my mother, who believes in spirits, the universe, and stars aligning if you're lucky enough.
• We talk about work, specifically Julian and his love of journalism. He's a very cultured man who has traveled to the most remote countries to ensure the authenticity of the pieces he writes. When he speaks with such conviction, I can feel the fire in his soul. I could listen to him for hours, and no one has ever held my attention in this way before.
• "I admire your fiery personality. Mr. Baker, you're a rare breed."
• "I suppose I could say the same for you." As he finishes the last of his wine, he grins and lifts the glass to his lips. "You graduated from Yale, run your own business, make mean tamales, and..."
• He pauses, parting his lips and looking me in the eyes.
• I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table, getting closer to him as we kiss gently.
• "And?" I croon, barely pulling back.