Oliver made it impossible for me to get lost while walking to his apartment. That was his promise when he sent me directions for our seven o’clock date. Since his place wasn’t far from my dorm, the instructions came as a series of texts that told me where to turn to get there. I found the gesture so much sweeter than a direct link that would just open my Maps app.
After Molly helped me get ready through a video chat and I knew there was nothing else I could possibly do to get myself prepared for tonight, I put on my jacket. Molly had suggested I take an oversize purse that could hold a few essentials in case I ended up spending the night—something I certainly wouldn’t have thought of—so I lifted the bag over my shoulder and headed outside. I wasn’t even down the front steps when I received a text from her.
Molly: Update me.
Me: It’s been, like, 10 mins since I’ve talked to you.
Molly: Well, have you left?
Me: Yes.
Molly: Um, hello? That’s a significant update, I’d say.
Me: LOL. I literally just walked out of my building. I haven’t even gotten through his first direction yet.
Molly: Move those buns, woman.
Me: I’ll text you the second I can escape to the bathroom or die from nerves and call you from a hospital bed. Whichever happens first.
Molly: Just make it to his place in one piece and die after his mouth is on you. Dying before would just be a tragedy on so many levels.
Me: I needed that laugh.
Molly: Love you.
Still holding my phone, I continued following Oliver’s instructions, and it wasn’t long before I was outside a large three-story building. Flowerpots hung out the upper windows, and cute, round arches spanned the whole length of the first floor, making the entrance even more inviting.
I found his name in the call box, pressed the button, and “Come on in, Chloe,” came out of the speaker.
That accent.
Boston would never sound good again, not after I’d heard Oliver say my name.
The door buzzed and unlocked, and by the time I entered the small lobby that the group of townhomes shared, Oliver was opening a door on the other side.
Our eyes locked, and it became so difficult for me to breathe.
My God. That man was sexy, dressed in a sweater and jeans and bare feet—an outfit that was so casual, unlike his stare.
“Gorgeous,” he breathed as I approached, his eyes taking me all in, his lips eventually doing the same when they softly pressed against mine.
I could smell the shower he had recently taken, the cologne he had put on after, and the detergent from his clothes. I didn’t know how scents could have such an effect on me, but everything I was taking in was only adding to the tingles that were pulsing through me.
When he pulled his lips away, I reached into my bag, took out the box, and handed it to him.
“What’s this?”
I smiled, knowing my cheeks were as red as my mouth. “I had to bring something even though you told me not to. I saw these, and they looked delicious.”
And because it hadn’t felt right to show up empty-handed when he invited me over for dinner, I’d made a special trip to the bakery after class.
He took the box from my hand and leaned forward, his mouth going to my cheek. He kissed it as gently as he had my lips and said, “Thank you.” Then, he signaled for me to walk in.
“Wow.” I was stopped in the center of the entryway, looking around the large, beautiful space that opened into the kitchen. “This is so nice.”
The apartment I’d shared with Molly wasn’t anything like this. His kitchen alone was almost the size of our entire place.
His hand grazed my side as he passed me. “My best mate’s father owns the flat,” he told me as he walked to the counter while I was left shivering from his touch. “He lets the four of us stay here for free.”
“He’s a nice dad.” I continued to look around, moving farther into the kitchen. “Are your roommates here?”
He hadn’t told me much about the plans for tonight besides how to get here, what time to arrive, and that he didn’t want me to bring anything.
“They’re at The O2 for a concert.”
I knew that meant they wouldn’t be back for a while, giving us the house to ourselves.
I tried not to let that stir in my brain for too long, but we were alone, and that was what I’d been hoping for.
“Cookies?” he said, smiling when he opened the box.
I moved over to the island where he was standing, staying on the opposite side. “I tried to find something super American and failed—for obvious reasons. They were the best I could do, and fortunately, chocolate chip is my favorite, so hopefully, you don’t hate that kind.”
He took out one of the oversize cookies, checking it out. “They’ll be perfect with a cup of tea.” He set it back in the box and came closer, his hands cupping my face, thumbs grazing just under my jaw. “This was sweet of you.” His lips hovered above mine. “Except now, all I can think about is how that chocolate would taste on your body.”
I sighed, and even my breath was unsteady.
He didn’t blink.
His fingers didn’t lower from my face.
He just held me until it felt like the tension in my body was going to make me scream, and then he whispered, “I hope you’re hungry.”
Hungry?
I couldn’t nod, as he was holding me so tightly, so I breathed, “Starving,” even though I couldn’t imagine putting anything in my mouth right now. Not with the nerves that were eating through my stomach.
“Spaghetti Bolognese, the only dish I’ve mastered from my mum.”
His fingers lightened when I smiled. “You cooked?”
I’d smelled it when I first came in and just assumed he had ordered out, which was what I would have done if I were back at home.
“Surprised?”
“Very.” I laughed, and it felt strange with him holding me this way. “But pleasantly. What other talents do you have, Oliver?”
His lips moved to the shell of my ear. “You’re going to find out later tonight.”
His eyes took me in again, and then his hands were gone. He headed to the other side of the kitchen where two bowls were waiting on the counter. He scooped pasta into them from a pot on the stove and carried them over to the table.
“Take a pew,” he instructed as he passed me on the way to the counter where he grabbed a bottle of wine.
I took that as he wanted me to take a seat, and when he joined me, he poured some into the glasses.
I couldn’t help but look at the table with excitement, at the meal this incredibly handsome guy had cooked for me.
There was no question in my mind.
I was ready.
His hand wrapped around the thick stem, and he held his wine up in the air. “To …”
“London,” I added before he could say any more. It fit on every level.
He must have agreed because he smiled and clinked his glass against mine. “To London … and to you, sweet girl.”
“Me?”
He nodded, leaning forward just a little. “Because I’m going to fucking devour you tonight.”
The heat that was becoming so familiar returned, although I wasn’t sure it had ever left. And then he chuckled as though, in his mind, he was confirming everything he had just said, and I sat there, melting under his gaze.