Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 92336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“My landlord is a little bit cuckoo. He must have installed them to fend off burglars.”
“Are they on a sensor or something?”
“Something like that,” I said, knowing full well Damien was controlling this.
“Can I take you out again? Maybe dinner instead of coffee?”
“Sure. That would be nice.”
“I’ll call you soon, then.” Brian leaned in and gave me a peck on the cheek. He stood in the courtyard watching until I was safely inside.
My first instinct was to storm over to Damien’s and demand he tell me why he turned on those lights at the exact moment I’d shown up with Brian. Then, I realized that was probably the reaction he expected from me. After the conversation this morning, I needed to take a step back, have some pride, and just let things be.
Settling into my couch, I tried to focus my mind on a magazine. Mindlessly flipping through the pages, I was bored. It was just past eight, and the night was young.
A few minutes later, I could hear music coming from next door.
Damien suddenly blasted the volume. It took a bit to realize the song was, Two Is Better Than One.
My phone chimed.
Damien: Hear that? They wrote a song about you and your ménage fantasies.
Chelsea: Don’t you have anything better to do on a Friday night?
Damien: How was the date?
Chelsea: He was nice. How was yours?
Damien: I didn’t have one.
Chelsea: Too busy spying on mine? Seriously, what was with the lights?
Damien: I had them installed a while back when some kids were fucking with my mural. I can control them from here.
Chelsea: That was really intrusive.
Damien: Just looking out for you.
Chelsea: By nearly blinding me?
Damien: LOL. Did you get his full name? I can do the background check.
Chelsea: I do have his name, but he’s harmless. Trust me.
Damien: You shouldn’t have let him know where you live so soon.
Chelsea: I knew you’d say that.
Damien: Then why did you do it?
Chelsea: It’s fine.
Damien: Are you seeing him again?
Chelsea: Probably.
Damien: I’m checking him out. What’s his full name?
Chelsea: Brian Steinway
Damien: Like the piano.
Chelsea: Yes. LOL.
Damien: Any other info?
Chelsea: Born in Iowa, works at Hewlett Packard, lives in Sunnyvale.
Damien: Alright.
Damien went quiet after that. I didn’t hear from him again until there was a knock at the door about twenty minutes later.
I opened. “What’s up?”
“I came to tell you the news in person.”
“What news?”
“I looked up the guy you’re dating.”
“And?”
“Well…I’m afraid…” He scratched his chin.
“What? Tell me!”
“Nothing. Completely legit.” He grinned.
“You scared me,” I said, smacking him playfully.
Damien bent down to lift something off the ground. It was my basket, sans muffins. “Here’s your basket back.” He’d thrown in a bottle of white along with some cookies that smelled like they’d just been baked.
“What’s this for?”
“It’s a thank you for the muffins. I’ve eaten like three of them today. They’re delicious.”
“You didn’t have to do anything. The muffins were to thank you for helping at Arts Night.”
“Well, that was nothing. So, I consider the muffins a gift. I don’t accept anything without reciprocating. It’s just how my mother brought me up.”
I took a bite into one of the gooey chocolate chip cookies and spoke with my mouth full. “These are so good. I think you might have unintentionally started a bake off. I can’t cook, but I can make desserts.”
“Oh, it’s on!” he joked. “I try to eat healthy, but pastries, cookies, cake…all baked goods…they’re my weakness.” He stole one of the cookies and took a bite. “Well, I just wanted to give you the info and the cookies.”
“Thanks again.”
Don’t go.
As he started to walk away, I stopped him. “Damien?”
He turned around. “Yeah?”
“Do you have plans right now?”
“No.”
“Would you want to watch a movie?”
He bit his bottom lip to ponder my question then smirked. “Only if I can pick the movie.”
“Sure.”
“You have a DVD player?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll come back in a half-hour.”
***
The exaggerated banging on the door was rhythmic. “Knock. Knock.”
After I let him in, Damien looked down at my outfit. “You’re still dressed up.”
He’d changed into gray sweatpants that clung to his junk in a way that now ruled out absolutely any chance that he wasn’t blessed in that department. The top of his boxer briefs was sticking out a bit.
Damn.
Prying my eyes up, I said, “I didn’t realize this was a slumber party.”
He moved past me, leaving me with a whiff of his arousing smell. “Well, we’re watching a movie. I figured I’d get comfortable. But feel free to stay in a dress. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.”
After our talk, why did I even bother to look good around him anymore?
He was right.
“Okay, wiseass, I’m going to change into my sleep clothes.”
He lifted a microwavable packet that he’d brought and shook it. “I’ll make popcorn and set up the DVD player.” He looked around. “Bowls are where?”
I pointed to one of the cabinets. “In there.”