Page 10 of Until We Meet Again

"Thank you. I appreciate it." A warm smile spreads across his face as he reaches for his wallet, takes out some cash, and places it down on the smooth wooden surface of the table. "What would you like to do tonight?" I ask.

"How about I take you for a real drink? There's this place called the Cordova Lounge. You heard of it?"

"I don't go out often, so I don't know many bars around here."

"Do you prefer being at home?"

"A coffee and a book while curled under a blanket is my perfect night," I say, my smile growing wider. "So much more appealing than getting wasted and watching everyone you know act like acomplete ass." I watch as his lips curl into a smile. "It probably sounds boring to some people, but I like what I like."

"Unapologetically?"

"Always."

"Just so you know, your perfect night in is anything but boring. It's actually very attractive and another thing we have in common, although I'd prefer bourbon instead of coffee, and you probably wouldn't find me under a blanket."

The way he holds my eyes will be the end of me. RIP Tessa.

"Ready to go?" he asks.

I gather my things, as does he, and despite my thoughts that the end of a date is always slightly awkward, this time it feels different.

As I move toward the coffee shop's entrance, he places his hand against the small of my back, and his touch sends a rush of longing through my body, feeling the heat from his palm through the thin layers of my clothing.

"Can I walk you to your car?"

"It's just over there, but you can if you want to."

It only takes a minute to reach my little green Honda. "So, I'll see you in a few hours."

"I'll see you soon, Tessa."

He opens my door to let me in, and the smile he gives me as he closes it has me almost writhing in my seat.

As he watches me drive away, I exhale a breath I didn't realize I was holding. His confidence and ability to make me feel completely flustered are unmatched. That initial spark has only happened once or twice with other guys, but I felt a connection to him from the moment I saw him, if not before. However, this time, I'm going to allow myself to explore it. It's time for me to start living and find out exactly what I've been missing.

Chapter 6

Zane

Since moving to Chicago, I've visited the Cordova Lounge a few times, and it never fails to impress me. The whiskey is exceptional, and the atmosphere is perfect for me. There's a sense of peace here, which is a welcome break from the craziness of the outside world and the occasional chaos in my head.

Smooth jazz hums seductively in the background, dim lighting adds a hint of intimacy, and the air is filled with the whispers of people who desire privacy. It looks like a scene from a film noir, with shadows dancing on the walls and secrets hiding in corners.

As I approach the polished oak bar, the bartender, a silver-haired gentleman with a long mustache, nods his head in acknowledgment.

"Good evening, sir. Your usual?" As always, his greeting is courteous.

"Yes, thank you." He nods and goes to fetch a glass and a bottle of premium whiskey. With a graceful pour, I watch as the amberliquid cascades over the ice, creating a satisfying crackling sound.

As he slides the drink toward me, I sit on one of the barstools and relax into its velvety embrace. I bring the glass to my lips and take a slow sip. The bourbon's rich, earthy flavor fills my senses, calming me as I wait for the blonde beauty I'm looking forward to spending the evening with.

Time seems to be passing slowly as I fidget with my drink. When the door finally opens, I pay close attention, and a few seconds later, I hear her voice behind me.

"Good evening, Professor." Her sultry voice sends a shiver through me, causing me to turn around and feast my gaze on her beautiful curves. My eyes hungrily roam over every inch of her body, taking in every detail of her, and I do nothing to disguise it.

The silver earrings she's wearing are crescent moons, matching the ring that sits on her middle finger, which I noticed this morning when she brought her latte to her lips. Earlier, her hair was flowing down her chest in curls, but now it's straight, making it appear even longer and more tempting to wrap around my fist. The curve-hugging black dress, almost like a second skin, draws my gaze, and I can't help but wonder what, if anything, she might be wearing underneath.

It's impossible not to notice the stark contrast from earlier.She'sjust as stunning now asshewas then, but there's something different abouther.

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