Pulling out my phone before I knock, I check out my teeth for the millionth time, finger my hair into position after the beating it took from the Chicago wind and pink my cheeks to give them a little color.
I’ve just finished taking inventory of myself when the door springs open and a mouth-watering Reed stands in the doorway.
“Hi,” I say, turning off my phone and tucking it inside my purse.
“Hey, glad you found me.” He steps to the side, his arm extended inviting me in.
“It’s like breaking into a bank.” I accept his invitation and try to keep my mouth from falling open in appreciation of the marble floors in the foyer.
From his address, I knew he was in the gold coast and when the taxi pulled up outside, I knew the condo would be on a level I was not familiar with. But marble floors, windows that span from one corner to the next and overlook Lake Michigan?
“Sorry, they take security pretty seriously here.”
The click of the lock has me turning to see him strolling toward me. He slides my purse from my shoulder and drops it on the big round table in the foyer.
“Jeez, Reed, you couldn’t afford the penthouse?” I joke following him into the apartment and to the kitchen.
“There’s a retired basketball player up there.” His voice doesn’t hold the sarcasm mine did.
“I was kidding.”
He glances up at me through his long eyelashes. “This was in my family. It’s convenient to the courthouse and the office.” He shrugs and goes back to the meal prep he must have been doing before I arrived.
“You must dread Mondays.” I toe out of my heels and meet him in the kitchen.
His knife pauses mid-cucumber and he waits for me to focus on him. “It’s the best day of the week.”
I blush, wanting to hip check him out of the way so I can have something to do with my hands, keep me busy and prevent me from making a fool of myself.
“So, there’s chicken and potatoes in the oven, and I’m just finishing with the salad.”
“I’m impressed.” I open the oven door and bend down to inspect his skills.
The room spins and fades in and out, my head feels heavy on my shoulders. I feel myself pitch forward, everything in my sight coming in flashes before I feel my hip hit the floor and blackness overtakes me.
“Victoria.” Soft knuckles drag down my face. “Vic.”
My eyes flutter open with some effort and Reed’s face hovers over mine.
Oh my God, I didn’t, did I?
“What happened?” I ask, already cringing because I think I know what he’s going to say.
“You passed out.”
Oh my God. How mortifying.
“Do you feel sick? Are you diabetic? Heart problems?” he asks in rapid-fire succession.
I giggle from embarrassment because it’s my go-to mechanism to hide what I really don’t want to tell him.
I sit up on his comfortable gray couch. How did I get all the way over here? “No. I just…”
He sits on the coffee table in front of me, his eyes concerned, his hands on my thighs as he waits for me to finish.
“I was on a detox cleanse this week.” My voice is soft and purposely low in the hopes he hears anything else and whatever it might be, I’ll go with it.
He sits back, one corner of his lips tipping down. “Why?”
I draw my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. Reed stands and heads over to the kitchen.
I hear the oven open and a dish pulled from the cupboard. A plate put on the counter. Silverware scraping, and I don’t have it in me to turn around and see what he’s doing or get up to help him. I’ll just sit on his couch and act like I didn’t completely ruin our date by passing out on his kitchen floor.
“You didn’t hit your head, thank goodness,” he says from the kitchen. “I was able to slide catch you before that happened. When’s the last time you ate?”
“I had a salad for lunch.”
“And?”
His voice grows closer and I loosen my legs, crossing them on the couch, still not ready to get up.
“A smoothie for breakfast.”
He sits back down on the coffee table holding a plate with chicken, potatoes, and some salad on it, a bottle of water tucked under his arm.
“How many days have you been doing this?”
I peek up. “Five.” My voice is so timid it reminds me of when my dad would hover over me as a teenager and ask me why I snuck out. There was no good answer other than I thought it was a brilliant plan until I slid in through my window to find him on my bed expecting me.
Now it’s Reed waiting for my answer to another brilliant plan that left me dead weight on his kitchen floor.
I watch his hands maneuver the fork and knife like the well-groomed man he was trained to be as a boy. Moments later a fork with chicken on it rests before my lips. “Eat.”
Not about to fight him on this, I open my mouth and take the piece of chicken from the fork, letting him feed me like a child.
“I’m really okay. Let’s eat at the table.”
“You’re not getting off that couch until this entire plate is gone.” He raises his eyebrows daring me to challenge him.
And have a little just-ate belly when I get naked? No thanks. My stomach growls in protest.
I take a few more mouthfuls and say, “Only a few more. Really I’m good.”
“No, I need you to have energy.” He holds a fork full of salad in front of my lips.
Before I can open and accept his offering a drop of salad dressing drips on my blouse. The new expensive blouse I just bought from a boutique I can’t really afford.
“Uh,” the sound escapes me.
“Sorry.” He looks it over. “Let me get something to clean that.”
He stands from the coffee table and I follow him into the kitchen where he has a dishrag ready with the tip wet. I hold my hands out for him to give it to me at the same time his finger moves toward the stain.
Ignoring me, his finger gently touches my shirt, but in order to clean the stain, he needs something to press against. Unless I want his hand under my shirt, which I do, but not necessarily to work out a stain, I need to take the dishtowel from him.
He allows me, and I dab the stain even though I know that the salad dressing will have oil in it and more than likely I’ll never wear this blouse again.
“I’m sorry.” He bites his lower lip and the sight has heat building between my legs.
“It’s okay.” I put the dishtowel on the kitchen counter, giving up hope.
“Can we start over?” he asks, his arms sliding down on either side of my hips.
“Please.” I stare up at him, loving the transformation from timid, unsure eyes to his lust-filled gaze.
“I’ve been wanting you alone for so long, I’m nervous.” His body inches forward and I draw in a breath.
“Are we being honest?” I ask.
“Yes. Nothing you tell me will change the way I feel.”
“I went on the detox cleanse because I’m scared of you seeing me naked,” I say the words fast and in succession as if somehow, they won’t be as embarrassing that way.
Confusion transforms his features and then a tentative smile reaches his lips. “You’re gorgeous, why would you worry about that?” He moves another inch closer and I close my eyes to find my equilibrium.