Third Date (13 page)

Brad comes over with the drinks. “Merlot for you. Gin and tonic for me.”

“Did you meet a new friend at the bar?”

“I met her at the booth today. She was asking if I wanted to go to a club with her later.”

“Are you going?”

He laughs. “No. I’m here with you. You think I’d just ditch you for some other woman? I’m offended.”

“It’s not like we’re on a date. If you want to go, it’s okay.”

He swirls his drink in his glass. “Who says we’re not on a date?”

“Oh. I didn’t think we were.” I feel myself blushing.

He smiles. “Do you want this to be a date?”

“Sure. It can be a date.” I sip my wine, trying to act cool.

“Then it’s official. You’re my date for this evening.” He takes a drink of his gin and tonic.

After that unexpected announcement, he proceeds to tell me all about his interview and his new job.

I really like listening to him talk. He has a good energy. And I like his voice. It’s strong and deep and he has a really great laugh. And then there’s that smile. Damn, that smile. He should do toothpaste commercials.
 

“So are you excited about living in Portland?” I ask him. “I guess you are or you wouldn’t have applied for a job there.”

“I have mixed feelings about it. It’s a great city and I think I’ll like living there, but it’s so far from home. Living in Chicago I’m able to drive back to Minnesota for a weekend. Now I won’t be able to get back as much. My mom needs more help now that Dad’s gone. She kind of relies on me to fix stuff around the house.”

“I could help her. I mean, I can’t fix things but I could do other stuff.”

He looks surprised. “Really? You don’t even know her.”

“I’m sure I’ve met her before at school events.”

“You might’ve met her after your mom died. She brought you guys some casseroles. She’s funny that way. When bad things happen, she cooks for people. Well, she does that when good things happen, too.” He laughs. “I guess she just likes to cook.”

“Your mom brought us food? Did she know my parents or something?”

“Our dads worked for the same company, but that place has a couple thousand employees so I’m not sure how well they knew each other. But when my mom heard what happened, she wanted to help out.”

“I remember someone bringing food over but I didn’t realize it was your mom. If she needs anything, just let me know. I’m happy to help.”

He reaches over and holds my hand. “That’s nice of you, Morgan. Thanks.”

“Sure.” I smile, hoping he won’t let go of my hand and luckily, he doesn’t.

We talk until midnight but it doesn’t seem that long. The only reason I knew it was that late is because the bar is closing.

It’s time to invite Brad up to my room. The night has been so perfect that I’m confident he’ll say yes. But then what?

As we ride up the elevator I get nervous and take some deep breaths, trying to relax. I need to take this one step at a time. Just invite him in and go from there.

“Do you want to come in?” I say it casually, not flirtatiously, as we stand in front of the door to my room.

“I would, but you probably have to get up early for your flight.”

“It’s not until 10. Come on in.”
 

Brad takes off his suit jacket and loosens his tie and goes over to the small sofa that faces the TV. He sits down on it, putting his arm up over the back. I take a seat next to him.

“I had a good time this week,” he says. “I’m glad I ran into you.”

“Yeah, me, too.” I angle myself toward him, giving him an open invitation to make a move.

He hesitates, but then takes the bait. He reaches behind my head and draws me closer and as soon as his lips touch mine, I get that feeling inside me again. That warm, fluttery feeling that makes my heart beat really fast.

It starts as just an innocent kiss, like we had last night, but then he parts my lips with his tongue and slips it in my mouth and his innocent kiss turns fiery hot. He does these amazing things with his tongue I’ve never had anyone do during a kiss. Then again, I haven’t kissed that many guys. And most of the ones I
did
kiss were really bad at it.

Brad is an expert at it. His lips and tongue work together seamlessly, melting my insides and causing my body to relax into him. He leans forward, his hand still behind my head and eases me back on the sofa. His kisses get slower and deeper, arousing even more sensations inside me. After a few minutes, I feel his hand move over my breast. I inhale sharply, startling him.

“You okay?” He looks at me, concerned. “I can stop.”

“No.” I smile at him. “Don’t stop.”

He smiles back, then kisses me again as his hand slips under the hem of my sweater, his fingers brushing against my waist. I tense up a little, then relax and savor the feel of his hand on my skin as it slowly makes its way up my chest.

Shit! My bra! He’s going to feel that stupid bra. Or what if he sees it? Kayla’s right. It’s hideous! I can’t let him see it.

I stop kissing him. “Let me take it off.”

His hand is now touching the flimsy, polyester-blend fabric. “Let me help you with it.”

Before I can stop him, he reaches under me and unhooks it. He starts to lift my sweater but I bolt up and say, “Wait. I’ll do it.”

He leans back, giving me a strange look as he watches me pull the bra through my sleeves like some kind of magic trick. I fling it behind the couch, hoping it lands somewhere he’ll never see it.
 

“Okay, we’re good.” I pull him over me again and kiss him, trying to make him forget what he just saw. I still have my sweater on. I should’ve taken it off. Why didn’t I take it off?
 

He must think I want it on because he doesn’t attempt to take it off again. Instead, he slides his hand up it, cupping my breast and teasing the center of it with his thumb as we kiss. He’s so good at this. Better than good. My body is exploding with all kinds of sensations, ones I can’t even create myself.

I’m sure this is going to lead to sex. Technically, we’ve been on three dates so according to Kayla and Paige, the timing is right. And I’m so turned on by him and what he’s doing to me that I’m actually looking forward to it.
 

After a while, I pull away and motion to the bed. “Do you want continue this over there?”

He leaves kisses down my neck. “I want to continue this, but right here is fine.”

“But don’t you want to, you know?” I glance at the bed again.

He stops and looks at me. “We’re just starting to get to know each other.”

“I know, but we’ve been out like three times.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah, I don’t buy into that third-date rule. I think people should go at their own pace.”

“And you’re not ready yet? Or you’re just not into me that way?”

“I think I’ve made it pretty clear I’m into you that way. That’s the problem. If we go to the bed, things will happen.”

“Why is that a problem?”

“Because you’re a nice girl. I don’t feel right about it. It’s too soon.”

“But you’re a guy. It’s never too soon. Don’t guys take it whenever they can get it?”

“When they’re 18. Or acting like they’re 18. I’ve already been through that stage and it wasn’t that great. And as much as I would love to take you over to that bed right now, I think it’s best if we don’t.”

I must look disappointed because he rushes to explain. “I’m not rejecting you, Morgan. I’m just trying to be a gentleman.” He lifts my chin up to look at him. “You’re gorgeous and you feel amazing, so believe me, I would love to take this farther. But I don’t think we should.”

He’s right. It’s too soon. As much as I want to do this, part of me doesn’t feel ready. But will I ever feel ready? I don’t think I will, which is why I just want to do it and stop making such a big deal out of it.

I turn my head to the side, staring at the wall. “Do you want to just go?”

He laughs. “You’re kicking me out because I won’t have sex with you?”

“No! Not at all.” I turn back to him. “Sorry, I was just—never mind. You can stay.”

He’s still hovered over me, propped up on his hands. I’m sure he’s not interested in doing anything more with me after that awkward conversation I just forced us to have.

I pick up the remote on the table in front of us. “We can just watch a movie.”

He takes the remote from my hand and sets it back on the table. “How about we do this some more,
then
watch a movie?” He kisses me, his tongue gliding over mine, and it gets me going again.

I like this. Just kissing with no pressure to go all the way. Although I wouldn’t mind doing a little more. After a few more minutes of kissing, I reach down between us and undo his belt. I hear his breathing get heavier as I unbutton his dress pants. When I tug at his zipper, he slowly pulls away.

“Maybe we should watch that movie now.” He gets off me and stands up.
 

Wow, he’s really determined not to have sex with me tonight. It’s good. I’m just surprised. But like he said, he’s being a gentleman and I appreciate that.
 

He zips his pants up and fixes his belt. “I can go if you want to get some sleep.”

“Actually, I’m wide awake.” It’s a lie. It’s the middle of the night and I’m really tired but I don’t want him to leave yet. But maybe he
wants
to leave. I don’t want to force him to sit around watching movies with me all night, so I ask him, “Do you want to stay?”

I must’ve said it like I was afraid he’d say no, because he smiles and says, “Yeah. I do. Just let me go change into some other clothes. I’ll be right back.”

While he goes to his room, I try to figure out what I’m doing. I’ll never see this guy again after tonight, so what is this? Just two friends watching movies after a really intense make-out session? Why aren’t I sleeping? I need to sleep, not watch movies with Brad. I have to get on a plane in a few hours. And I have tons of work to get done when I get back tomorrow and I can’t do it if I’ve had no sleep. But for whatever reason, I’m not ready to say goodbye to Brad.

To hell with sleep. I can sleep later.

While Brad’s gone, I search through the channels for something to watch. He comes back wearing jeans and a fitted white t-shirt that shows off his back-from-vacation tan. He looks so hot that I’m wishing we could continue where we left off but it would just lead to places we’ve decided we’re not going to go.

“I brought some food over in case you’re hungry.” He sets a couple bottles of Coke, a bag of potato chips, and a package of Oreo cookies on the table in front of us.
 

We snuggle on the sofa and eat cookies and watch an old comedy from the 80s. Occasionally he leans down and kisses me, but he keeps it quick. But even his quick kisses give me that warm, tingly feeling inside.
 

Around 4 in the morning, we can’t keep our eyes open and we make our way over to the bed because the sofa is way too small to sleep on. We lie down next to each other and I fall asleep in his arms.
 

I wake up at 7 when I hear the alarm on my phone go off. “Brad, I have to get up. My plane leaves in a few hours.”

“What time is it?” He rubs his eyes, then stretches a little. He even looks hot first thing in the morning. I’m sure I look like a total mess, hair sticking out, makeup smeared all over my face.

“It’s 7,” I tell him. ‘When does your plane leave?”

“At 11. I can take you to the airport. I have to drop the car off early anyway.”

“Thanks. That’d be great. I should start packing.” I get up, but he pulls me back into his arms.
 

“So what do you think?”

“About what?”

He smiles and runs his hand up and down my arm. “About this thing we started here. I kind of don’t want it to end. I really like you, Morgan.”

I smile back. “I like you, too.”

“Then what should we do?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do we keep this going? You and me?”

I sit up. “We can’t. The long-distance thing never works.”

“You never know until you try.” His smile appears again and for a moment I’m tempted to really do this. To try to date him even though he’ll be halfway across the country.

But then reality wakes me from my fantasyland and I realize there’s no way I can do this. I can’t do the long-distance dating thing. Now that my dad’s moving on, I’m trying to get out more and do stuff and I won’t do anything if I’m sitting at home every night calling my boyfriend in Portland. I need someone I can see every day. Someone to go out with on a regular basis. And I might already have that someone. I have Grant. Just last week I’d declared him my dream man so what am I doing with Brad?
 

I get off the bed and stand next to it. “You’re moving to Portland, Brad. It just won’t work.”

He nods. “Yeah. Okay. I understand.”
 

He doesn’t seem mad. He probably figured I’d say that. He gets up and goes over to the table and picks up his phone.
 

“But I at least need your number.” He holds his hand over the phone. “What is it?”

I hesitate. Do I give him my number? It seems like I shouldn’t. If I start dating Grant, he won’t want some other guy calling me all the time.
 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why isn’t it a good idea? Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

“No, not really. But I
did
go out on a date with a guy last week and I’m going out with him again when I get back.”

 
“Then I guess I shouldn’t have spent the night here.” He glances down at his phone, swiping the screen.

“I’m not serious with this guy. It’s just that it might go somewhere in the future and he probably wouldn’t like some other guy calling me.”
 

“We can still be friends, Morgan. I’m not trying to force you to date me. I just want to talk to you again. So what’s your number?”

“I can’t give it to you. I’m sorry.” I feel sick breaking off all communication with Brad like this, but I don’t know what else to do. I have to give Grant a chance, a guy who actually lives in the same town as me. And I’ll never give Grant a chance if I keep this thing going with Brad. I like Brad way too much to stay in touch with him, even as friends. It’ll be hard enough getting him out of my head.