Page 11 of Take Two

My normally quiet and boring apartment is alive for the first time. Other than last Friday, I can’t remember the last time I had company here. I usually go to the house I grew up in if I’m getting together with my mom. If I’m spending time with my father, I’ll go to his place or we’ll meet at a restaurant.

“Do you want to eat inside or outside?” I ask Charlie. He looks up from the cutting board and past my shoulder to the little patio on the deck.

“Inside. It’s kind of humid today,” he says. He finishes his drink and puts the glass to his forehead. “Can I have a refill, darlin’?” I don’t think he even realizes what he said, but I likeit. I like it a lot, and I want him to call me that again. I refill his glass and mine.

I set the table while inhaling the smell of his cooking. Soon, he comes over with two big bowls.

“Teriyaki salmon rice bowls,” he announces. There’s still steam coming out of the bowls when he puts them down on the table. I lean over and inhale.

“Smells and looks delicious,” I tell him. My stomach growls, and I grab my fork to dig in but after he takes the seat opposite me, Charlie reaches his hand across the table. When I stare at him, he wiggles his fingers, signaling for me to take it. I do. His hand is rough and calloused but feels good all at the same time. I wonder how they would feel touching other parts of me and not just my hand.

“I hope you don’t mind if I say grace. I’m not particularly religious, but I want to thank a higher power for bringing me this far.” I squeeze his hand, and he bows his head. Suddenly feeling like a heathen, I follow his lead.

I don’t remember the last time anyone in my family said grace. My father never does. He’s as anti-religion as you can get. My mom only says it on Christmas and Easter. Seconds later, he’s done, and I finally get to pick up my fork.

“Mmhmm,” I say, doing my best not to make it sound too carnal. “That tastes better than anything I’ve had all week.” I shove another forkful in my mouth. After chewing and swallowing I say, “This settles it. You are never allowed to leave this apartment. You must stay forever.”

He grins so wide, showing off those two dimples while he blushes, and I do everything I can not to touch him.

“Who knows you’re here?” I ask.

“No one,” he admits.

“So, the police will never suspect me when you go missing.” I rub my hands together. “My plan is falling into place. I’m getting my handcuffs.”

“Really? How are you going to stop me from leaving? What do you weigh? Five pounds?” he asks.

“I weigh enough to overpower you if I need to,” I tell him.

“Well, you can try, but I’m pretty sure you can’t take me.”

“I guarantee that I can take you,” I say. His head snaps up, and our eyes lock. I can see him trying to decipher what exactly I mean.

“I’ll come over whenever you want, darlin',” he offers. “No need to hurt yourself trying to overpower me.”

“Okay. We’ll try that first, but if that doesn’t work out, I’ll have no choice but to lock you in my basement,” I warn.

“If you can overpower me, then I’ll stay,” he grins. “I’ll even let you use those handcuffs.”

He finally picks up his own fork and starts to eat. I refill our glasses, and we eat without any more conversation, but every few moments, our eyes will catch and Charlie will blush.

“Is there any dessert?” I ask after taking my final bite. “That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time. Thank you for making it for me.”

“You’re welcome, and as for dessert, I didn’t know what you liked. Or if you even eat dessert,” he says. “Next time—”

“First of all, I never say no to dessert, especially on a Friday night. This is my night to eat whatever I want.” I throw his words back at him and say, “I’m easy.” Yeah, I’ll be really easy right now. If he stands up, walks over here, and rips my clothes off my body, I’d jump in his arms and let him take me on the floor. “And dessert is on me. Let’s go.” He puts his fork down and stands. When he starts to reach for the dirty dishes, I put my hands on his. He freezes, and I look into his eyes. He lookslike a deer in headlights, but he doesn’t try and move away. “I’ll clean up when we get back.”

“We’re going somewhere? If you start leading me to a basement, I’m gonna run,” he teases.

“I’ll catch you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I say slowly.

“I might just let you.” The lightness is back in his voice. He pulls one hand away and strokes one of my cheeks. I feel the temperature increase, so I reluctantly pull my other hand from his and start to walk to my bedroom to give my body a moment to calm down.

“I’m taking you for ice cream as a thank you for cooking,” I yell behind me. I burst into my bedroom and grab a pair of nude opened-toed wedges. They’re high, but with a man Charlie’s height, I don’t ever have to worry about being taller than him.