Page 79 of Common Grounds

She steps through the door, not even trying to avoid brushing against me. Her cucumber scent greets me like a breath of fresh air. Something in me snaps apart at the easy contact, and I twirl her into my chest. I press my lips to hers almost desperately. One day without kissing her has been too long. For a moment, she melts into me, her lips parting for me to taste her. But then she laughs breathlessly.

“Can I at least put this down first?” she asks.

I pull away and look at her hands, which is when I realize she’s holding a bag of takeout in one and a bottle of sparkling wine in the other.

“I suppose that can be arranged.” I drag my fingertips down her biceps, over her forearms, and down to grasp the things she’s carrying. She visibly shivers, and it fills me with a desire to make her do it again. I take her things from her and move them to the kitchen counter as she kicks off her sandals and follows.

I peek in the bag. Whatever she brought smells bready and sweet. “What’s this?”

“Dinner?” she asks again.

“Why are you phrasing everything as a question?” I return.

She huffs and looks everywhere but at me. “I don’t know. I don’t… I’m nervous, I guess? I don’t do this. Date. Dating? Is that what we’re doing?” She winces and finally meets my eyes. She lets out a frustrated breath and starts again with more confidence. “It would seem I cannot stop myself from being awkward. I brought waffles.”

“From the food truck? From the night we met?” I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s so cute when she’s nervous.

“Yeah,” she says sheepishly.

“That’s fucking adorable.”

“Well, good.” She laughs again, and it’s a little looser this time. She runs a hand through her hair and tosses it behind her. Now, I can see both of her gorgeous shoulders, and my dick springs to life.

I start taking cartons of waffles out of the bag and stacking them on the counter. “What are we celebrating?” I indicate the wine.

“Four hundred thousand more views in total from Friday until now.” She says this with much more confidence than she had when she spoke about the waffles.

I meet her steady gaze. “That’s amazing. That’s two hundred and fifty thousand left.”

She nods.

My grin is wide and openly excited. “You’re going to do it.”

“I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but yeah, it would seem so.”

If my damn apartment weren’t so small, I’d pick her up and twirl her around. But, since I don’t want to injure anyone, I settle for crossing the room in two long strides, cupping her face with my hands, soaking up her gorgeous and triumphant smile, and kissing her.

“Your last article was really good,” I say against her lips.

“So I’ve been told,” she responds drily, our breaths mingling in the sliver of space between us. It makes me wonder who told her what about that article, but I don’t want to pry. Instead, I plant a kiss on her nose. “Waffles?” I ask. I feel her body relax under my fingers, as if she’s glad I changed the subject.

“Yes. I’m starving.” She walks to the counter and opens one of the boxes. She pouts and opens another. Her frown deepens.

“What’s wrong, sreco?”

“They forgot the whipped cream.” Her voice is almost a whine, exaggeratedly childish, though I can tell she’s truly disappointed. “How are you supposed to have waffles without whipped cream?”

Now it’s my turn to be coy. I reach around her and pull open the door to the refrigerator. I take out a stainless-steel whipped cream dispenser that I had filled at the shop and brought home so I could make her some fancy coffee in the morning.

She flattens her lips together and raises her eyebrows. “Is that what I think it is?”

“If you think it’s a whipped cream dispenser, then yes.”

She wiggles—actually wiggles—in excitement. My heart swells to see her happiness at such a simple thing, and even more to know I did this for her.

“You’re a life saver,” she laughs as she turns toward the counter.

Her back is to me, and I don’t even try to resist touching her. I come up right behind her and press my chest into her back. She leans into me as I gently brush her hair to the side, fully exposing her shoulder. I squirt a bit of whipped cream onto her bare skin, then lick it off. The sweet taste of the cream mixed with the salt from her skin is a feast for my senses. And, to top it off, she moans and lets her head fall back against my chest, giving me access to the long column of her neck. I squeeze a bit more right where her neck meets her collarbone and lick that off, too.

---