Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“Not driving tonight?”
“No, I thought tonight I would drink with you,” he replies.
“You rarely drink.” I note.
“I don’t like my senses dulled or to have my inhibitions lowered.”
“And you feel like you can do that with me?” I question.
“I can lower everything but my cock when I’m with you.”
Another laugh bubbles out of me, and I reach over and grab his hand this time, instead of waiting for him to hold mine.
“Oliver likes you, and that means a lot. Because if he didn’t—”
“I like him too. He’s a good kid.”
“Do you ever want kids?”
He cracks his neck before replying, “I feel like that question is a trap.”
I shrug. “I want you to be honest with me.”
“Okay.” He squeezes my hand as the car slows down. “No, I don’t want kids. I pretty much raised my sister when I was basically still a kid myself. And doing that again doesn’t appeal to me.” We sit there quietly until the car stops. His driver goes to open the door, but Soren holds up his hand, stopping him.
“How does that make you feel?” he asks hesitantly.
“Not everyone feels the need to be a parent, and that’s okay,” I tell him. “Oliver is all I want. I don’t want more kids.”
“Oliver is a good kid. I enjoy being around him.” His words warm my heart.
“Oliver already has a father, and Noah is a great one.”
He nods, seeming to be happy with that answer, then he gets out of the car. He holds the door open for me as I slide across the seat. Once I’m standing on the sidewalk, I notice we’re outside again at one of the hardest restaurants to get a reservation, which I have been to before. It also happens to belong to his friend Arlo.
“And here I thought you were taking me back to a sex club.” I laugh.
“If that’s where you’d rather eat, we can go there. They don’t serve food, but I can think of something for me to eat.” He rakes his gaze over me, and I blush. I can’t help it.
We enter the restaurant, and the hostess recognizes him immediately. She guides us to a more secluded area in the back, where a table is already set with a bottle of wine, two glasses, and menus. He pulls out my seat as the hostess excuses herself. When I sit, he leans down and kisses my neck softly before taking his own seat.
“I have a question,” I say. He nods and then pours us each a glass of wine. “Would you take me to one of your girlfriend’s parties?”
He adamantly shakes his head. “No, never.”
“I’ve heard about them. People share. Would you not like to share me?”
“No, I wouldn’t. I would take you to the wife one, though.”
I grin, his answer pleasing me. “I’m not your wife,” I point out.
“No, I guess you aren’t… yet.”
I pause at the “yet,” and I hold back from commenting, even though I know he’s waiting for me to speak.
When he decides I’m not going to respond, he asks, “Would you like me to order for you?”
“Yes, I’ll eat anything. I’m not fussy.”
He orders each of us a steak and a dessert for after. When the waiter walks away, Soren reaches across the table and takes my hand.
“I’m not going home with you tonight,” I remind him.
“Yes, I know. Maybe tomorrow?” Soren asks, hopeful.
“Maybe,” I reply.
And he smirks.
The food is impressive, but I knew it would be. We have great conversations about various topics, and I’m surprised at how much I like listening to Soren talk. When he speaks to you, he gives you his full attention. It’s special because not many people can talk to someone without their gaze flicking to something else.
He makes me nervous, but it’s a good type of nervous. The kind that makes me wonder where this will actually go now that we’re both open to it.
I’m glad our thoughts on having children are similar. I wouldn’t want to be with someone and deny them a child if that’s what they wanted, because it’s a blessing to have a child, and a lot of people don’t get that opportunity.
As we leave the restaurant, his hand isn’t holding mine for a change. Instead, his arm is wrapped around my waist, and he keeps me close to him.
When we pull up outside my home, he gets out with me and walks me to my door. After I unlock the door, I turn to find him already stepping back, putting distance between us.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I won’t kiss you or touch you until tomorrow,” he says, and disappointment fills me, even though I am the one who put up that barrier.
“Thank you again for tonight. It was nice to see a new side of you.”
“Anytime.” He winks, and I go inside and shut the door. Leaning against it, I sigh.