Page 23 of What I've Tasted of Desire

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“Alex is settling in well at Westing House,” I told Barbara over my shoulder as I buttoned up my shirt. I’d left the top to the freezer slightly ajar so she could hear me. “Tonight is gonna be our first date! I’m taking him to a nice steak dinner. He deserves a nice meal in a good restaurant. You know, Babs, things could have been completely different. You could have taken care of Alex. Nurtured him. Could have been a motherly figure, like you were supposed to be. That boy is so full of love that, if you'd have just taken care of him, he would have made sure you were taken care of as well. That’s how Alex is. And by proxy,Iwould have made sure you were taken care of.”

I paused to step into a new pair of jeans. “I would have loved to have a mother-in-law that I cared about. We could have popped by for dinners, and maybe a movie night every once in a while to make sure you never got too lonely. You could have been there for Alex on his wedding day. We could have made you a grandmother when we finally decided to adopt kids of our own. Things could have beensodifferent.”

I walked back over to the freezer to see her gobsmacked dead face staring back up at me from the bottom. “Instead, here we are. You happy with yourself?” I clicked my tongue at her in disapproval. “Well, goodnight. Don’t wait up; I’ll be home late.” I closed the freezer, spritzed myself with Tobacco Vanille, and headed out to meet my prince.

I pulled into Westing House at 7:46. I had been sitting at the end of the block, just around the corner, since 7:06. The thought of disrespecting Alex by being even one minute late was completely out of the question. At any rate, I’d had plenty of time to stop by the florist and buy Alex a dozen roses. I’d also had plenty of time to decide the flowers were overkill and that sweeping romantic gestures weren’t really Alex’s style. I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by coming on too strong. Especially on the first date. Flowers were more of a second date kind of thing, I reasoned. Maybe even third?

How the fuck would you know? You’ve never been on a date in your entire life…

Just one more way that my father had let me down. A man should know how to woo someone special. When to bring flowers or chocolate; when to steal a kiss.

Goddammit.

“I just have to take things slow, and let Alex lead the way,” I announced to the still car.

Alex wants a strong, forceful man like Tom to tell him what to do… you’re just pathetic.

I took in a shuddering breath and gripped the steering wheel harder to stop my hands from trembling.

7:49… tick, tock.

“I just need a minute!” I cried, startling even myself.

My pulse rate pounding in my ears made it difficult to hear anything else, and my vision started to wobble at the edges of my peripheral. I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to clear the fuzziness.

“It’s fine. Everything is o-okay,” I told myself unconvincingly. I quickly grabbed my phone and put in my PIN to bring up my locked photo album. I scrolled through my Top 5 favorite snaps of Alex to calm myself down. Focusing on small details to ground myself, just like I’d once read about in an online article. When my pulse had returned to a reasonable rate, I wiped my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans and got out of the car.

This is it.

I walked up the steps towards the front entrance of the estate, the old wood planks creaking under my feet. It might complain, but the centuries-old wood held firm in its place. You know what they say about houses having good bones? That was Westing House. The old gal was a little worse for wear, but she was just waiting to make her grand return to society.

Comforted somewhat by the familiar, hulking presence of the house, I softly rapped the back of my knuckles against the thick oak of the front door.

After 30 seconds or so, I worried I hadn’t knocked loud enough and Alex hadn't heard it. Maybe he was still upstairs. I didn’t want to bang on the dooragain, as that seemed aggressive.Perhaps I should just text him and tell him I’m here?

I knocked again, deciding I would give him a call or text if he didn’t answer that time…but he did!

Alex looked like a dream. He was wearing skin-tight black jeans and a black v-neck sweater that afforded me a sinful tease of milky collarbones. He had gotten his hair cut, I assumed, while he was at the mall. It was nice and tight around the sides and back of his head, and left longer on top, so his curls tumbled down over his forehead. He looked stunning, even if I did prefer his hair longer. His eyebrows had the faintest bit of redness underneath them. He must have gotten them waxed.

He did all of this for you!

I felt like I was made of helium, and that, at any moment, the butterflies in my stomach were going to flap hard enough for me to just float up into the sky.

“I think I’m a little early,” I finally managed to say.

He smiled and shook his head. “It’s f-f-fine.”

Oh! He’s nervous…

Alex grabbed his coat and locked the door behind him. I hurried down the porch steps ahead of him to open his door. That earned me a smile, and Alex hopped up into the idling SUV.

He’s in my car! He’s smiling at me!

I had enough excited energy to kickflip myself over the car, but managed to content myself with a quick trot.

I climbed into the car and looked over at him. “So… um, what do you think you would like to do this evening, Alex?”

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