“I had a really nice time,” she says so quietly I almost don’t hear her. But then she clears her throat and looks up at me through thick lashes and speaks more clearly, “It was more than I expected, thank you.”
But the way she’s acting, it’s as if she’s never been fed. Like she’s never been told that she’s beautiful.
It’s hard to believe it’s true.
“Thank you for accompanying me,” I tell her as the car slows down in front of her house.
I expected dinner to be filled with uncomfortable silence, but there wasn’t a moment that conversation didn’t happen easily and naturally. “We have a dinner this weekend as well.”
“Another?” she says and her voice brightens and forces a small laugh from me.
“Yes, you may find it hard to believe, but I eat almost every day. Sometimes several times a day.” The joke comes out easily and makes her smile. That sweet one that shows she’s honestly happy. It warms my chest to know I put it there.
As Marcus stops the car, I’m quick to open my door and wait for his eyes to catch mine in the rearview mirror. I’ve got her from here. He stays in his seat as the car remains in park and I quickly shut my door and move to hers to help her out.
“I’m excited to do this again,” she says with a sweet smile. She brushes a stray strand of hair from her face as the wind blows by and goosebumps grow along her arms. “Thank you... again,” she says for at least the fifth time and this time rolls her eyes recognizing how absurd it is that she keeps thanking me. If nothing else, Arianna is full of gratitude and not afraid to show it.
“I am as well.” I walk her up to her steps and stop, making sure that she knows I have no intention of going in. It’s not about sex. I don’t want her to feel pressured and judging by the soft look on her face, she’s not in the least.
She turns on the first step, and rocks on her heels as she asks, “This weekend?”
I nod my head and answer, “Four days.”
“Will I see you before then?” she asks me. There’s a flash of hope in her eyes and I’m not sure if it’s because she wants to see me, or if she thinks she won’t have to be with me again until this weekend.
“I have a good bit of work to do,” I tell her, although in the back of my mind I can’t help but to think I’ll have time in the evening. Late evening. She could always come and warm my bed. I brush off the thought but the hint of disappointment in her voice as she answers, “Oh, okay,” makes me want to offer it to her.
Maybe not this week, but next.
“I’ll be calling you. And you can do the same if you’d like. I’ll message you if I think of anything,” I tell her without thinking. I have no fucking reason to call her whatsoever, but just the offer brings that beautiful smile back to her face.
She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’ll call you then,” she says and closes her eyes and shakes her head slightly. “Or you call me. I’ll wait,” she adds, then nods her head, looking so serious. “I’ll wait for you to call me.”
A rough chuckle rises up my chest as I lean forward and give her a chaste kiss goodbye. “Alright then, sweetheart.”
Even in the darkened night, I can see that blush on her cheeks as she turns to go upstairs.
“Oh, Miss Owens,” I call out her proper name, reaching forward and grabbing her hand in mine. “I had a package delivered for you,” I say and pull her closer to me, and she doesn’t resist my touch. I wrap my arms around her waist, letting them rest on the lower part of her back, dangerously close to her ass.
Although her eyes dart from my cheek up to my own, she doesn’t push me away. I can see how her chest is rising and falling with quicker breaths now, and I fucking love it. I’m addicted to the way I so easily affect her.
“You did?” she asks with equal amounts of surprise and delight in her voice. The streetlights shine down on her in a way that casts shadows along the soft curves of her face. She looks up at me and all I can see in her green eyes is sincerity. I could get lost in the swirls of deep jade that shine back at me.
“I did,” I say before I quickly kiss her lips. The kiss is soft and easy and I need to keep it that way.
It was only one night. An evening just to get to know her, just an interview, but I can feel it turning into something more. A desire for something I shouldn’t want.
The reminder of why I’m holding her in my arms, why all of this is even happening is enough to break the spell of her hopeful gaze.
She’s temporary. And a mistake I’m merely trying to fix. The knowledge makes my smile slip, but it’s instantly replaced by the one I hate.
“I’ll see you this weekend.” I deliver another small kiss to the tip of her nose and step out of her embrace. She doesn’t seem to notice my change in demeanor. “If you need anything in the meantime, you’ll let me know.”
“Of course,” she replies and bats her eyes, moving the clutch from one hand to the other. “Really, and truly. Thank you for tonight, Zander.” Her voice is so full of happiness, that I find my reasons for leaving so quickly disappearing into the dark night. But she turns from me before I can go back to her, her hips swaying and taunting me as she walks closer to the front door and grips the railing.
As I watch her walk up the steps, those gorgeous curves tempting me as the soft sounds of the night air swish by and make her dress cling to her, I finally answer her beneath my breath. “My pleasure, sweetheart.”
Chapter 14
Arianna
My pleasure, sweetheart.
Zander’s words linger in my mind as I step into my shared apartment and gently close the door behind me, feeling a heavy mix of emotions coursing through my chest. Zander has been such a gentleman. It was so unexpected; I don’t know how to process it. It’s hard not to feel butterflies, even knowing it’s all fake.
I suck in a heavy breath, remembering how it felt to be held in his arms at the end of dinner. Zander made me feel special, like I was the only woman in the room. And even though I felt unworthy to be there with him, I wanted it to be real. I wanted desperately to think that he truly wanted me beside him.
It felt like that. It felt real.
I run my finger down the side of the package that was left for me. It’s not hard to imagine that it’s a dress for this weekend. The white box is large, yet light. My heart beats with anticipation to open it.
I spin around when I hear Natalie’s shocked voice.
“Jesus Ari, what are you dressed up for?” She walks into the living room and adds, “You look beautiful!”
Natalie’s in her favorite pair of pink polka dot pajamas, a half-finished cup of Greek yogurt in her hand, her jaw hanging slack. The television’s on and running in the background, playing some rerun of one of the Real Housewives reality TV shows she likes to watch.
She sets her yogurt down on the end table next to the couch and walks over to inspect my dress.
My tongue is tied. I don’t know how to tell her the truth. It all feels… dirty. “I was out with a friend,” I lie.
Natalie studies me suspiciously. “What sort of friend? And since when do you go out dressed like that for a friend?” Although she’s practically interrogating me as she crosses her arms, she has the hint of a smile playing on her lips.