Page 84 of Resisting the Grump

His eyes found mine. “A good night?”

I nodded before walking around the counter to collect my purse.

“Text me when you get home.”

“Oliver.”

“Do it,” he said seriously. “Or I’ll worry.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

“Thanks for coming,” he said, handing me my goody bag. “And for helping me polish off the lobster. I never could’ve eaten it all on my own.”

I feigned a scowl. “I thought you weren’t going to lie anymore.”

“I’m not lying. A sauce that rich is meant to be shared.”

As an only child, sharing had never been my strong suit, but with him… it felt different. Fun. Natural. Like I was gaining instead of losing. “Goodnight, Oliver.”

He walked me to the door, but I could tell he wasn’t going to kiss me. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one playing games. Still, I was grateful he didn’t make me guess.

“If you don’t text me when you get home, I’m going to blast Tom Jones through the walls, starting with ‘Delilah.’” He pulled the door open for me.

“Please don’t spoil a perfectly good evening by doing that.”

He stole a glance at my lips. “Please don’t forget to text.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous is walking home alone wearing shoes you can’t run in.”

I stepped forward and rose onto my toes so I could whisper in his ear. “Maybe I want to get caught.” Then I stepped back and sauntered down the hall, smiling at the knowledge that he was watching me every step of the way.

I turned the key in my door and glanced back at him.

He nodded in my direction as if to say, “Just looking out for you.”

My cheeks flooded with warmth as I pushed my door open, and when I looked back, he was gone. Waiting for that text no doubt.

It seemed silly to play along, but it would’ve been even sillier to pretend I wasn’t thinking about him. Plus, I knew he’d genuinely blast Tom Jones if I hesitated to fulfill his request. His apartment stretched to the corner of the building, and I was the only neighbor he shared a wall with, so his antics all along had never been for anyone but me.

“Home safe,” I typed, wishing my apartment smelled like a sunny café beside the Mediterranean Sea. “Thanks again for a memorable evening.”

I set my phone on the counter and slipped my heels off, my head spinning with how nice it was to be spoiled by such a smart, interesting, handsome guy. Not only did I feel cool in his company, but I felt something else, too. Something new. Something beyond safe.

I struggled to name the feeling, my mind a sudden montage of memories from that evening and all the others we’d shared before, and then it hit me… Cherished. He made me feel cherished.

My phone pinged on the counter, and I picked it up to read his response.

“I would’ve kissed you goodnight if I didn’t respect the fact that you were trying to make a point.”

I sighed.

“I wanted to.”

A soft ache spread through my chest.

“I always want to.”

---