Page 33 of Playing with My Heart

“Sounds perfect.”

Travis steered us towards a cozy Mexican restaurant tucked away on a side street, its warm glow spilling onto the sidewalk like an invitation. As we stepped inside, the tantalizing scent of sizzling fajitas and spices enveloped us, transporting us from the chilly Chicago evening to a vibrant cantina south of the border.

The hostess led us to a secluded booth in the corner, illuminated by the soft flicker of a candle nestled in colorful glass. Travis slid in across from me, his knee brushing mine under the table. That simple touch sent electricity coursing through my body, and I had to take a steadying breath.

“So,Travis said, his eyes twinkling in the candlelight, “what's your poison? They make a mean margarita here.”

I couldn't help but grin. “A margarita sounds fantastic,” I replied, grateful for the suggestion.

Our server arrived promptly, and we took turns ordering. As we waited for our drinks, a comfortable silence settled between us. I found myself studying Travis’s face, noticing details I’d somehow missed before—the slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes when he smiled, the way his hair caught the golden light of the candle.

“What?” he asked, catching me staring.

“Nothing,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush. “Just thinking about…my last patient.”

He chuckled, clearly not buying my excuse. “Your last patient, huh? Must have been quite the case.”

I laughed, grateful for his easygoing nature. “Okay, you caught me. I was just thinking how nice this is. Us, here, unwinding after work.”

“It is nice,” he agreed, his voice softening. “I’m glad you're here, Parker. Not just at dinner, but—you know, working with me, staying at my place.”

Our margaritas arrived, the salt-rimmed glasses glistening in the candlelight. I took a sip, savoring the salty tartness on my tongue. “I’m enjoying it too. I appreciate you giving me a place to stay, but I know you must be getting sick of me invading your personal space.”

The look on his face was fierce. “Not at all. I like having you around. As far as I’m concerned, you can stay as long as you’d like. Unless—you want to leave?”

I smiled softly, once again thanking the heavens for putting this man in my life. “No, I like it at your place, spending time with you.”

His shoulders relaxed as he leaned back in his seat. “Good, then it’s settled. No more talk about you being in my way.”

As we settled into conversation, the noise of the restaurant faded into the background. Travis regaled me with stories from his college days, his animated gestures and infectious laughter drawing me in. I found myself leaning closer, captivated by the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his friends.

“—and then Jasper, bless his heart, tries to convince the bouncer that he’s actually a forty-year-old man trapped in a college kid’s body,” Travis chuckled, shaking his head at the memory.

I laughed, picturing the scene. “Did it work?”

“Not even close,” Travis grinned. “We ended up at a twenty-four-hour diner instead, plotting our revenge on the kid that sold us the fake IDs.”

Our food arrived, steaming plates of enchiladas and fajitas filling the air with mouth-watering aromas. As we dug in, I couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers deftly wrapped around his fork, or the little hum of pleasure he made with each bite. The candlelight danced across his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the scruff of his five o’clock shadow, and the warmth in his gaze.

“So, Parker,” Travis said, leaning in slightly, “tell me more about your hometown. What’s it like there?”

I took another sip of my margarita before responding. “It was your typical small town, I guess. Festivals and parades each year to celebrate Fourth of July, Memorial Day, and Homecoming. Friendly rivalries between the only three schools in the county, store owners who greeted you by name when you went in because they’d ‘known you since you were knee high to a grasshopper.’”

Travis laughed, the sound resonating within me and making me smile. “Sounds perfectly quaint. Do you ever think about moving back?”

I paused, considering. “Not anymore. Chicago feels like home now. I’m happy here.”

His lips curved into a smile, his eyes softening as he held my gaze. “I'm glad to hear that,” he said, his voice low and warm. “Chicago’s lucky to have you.”

The sincerity in his tone made my heart skip a beat. I found myself leaning in, drawn by the intensity of his gaze. “I think I’m the lucky one,” I murmured.

For a moment, everything else faded away. It was just Travis and me, suspended in a bubble of candlelight and unspoken possibility. The moment stretched between us, electric and charged with potential. I found myself holding my breath, caught in his intense gaze. The sharp clatter of a dropped plate nearby made us both jump, startling us back to reality.

Travis blew out a long breath, like he’d been holding it in. Did he feel it too? This crazy chemistry that had been building between us, the intense longing to touch and be touched? He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. Before he could say anything, our server appeared, cheerfully asking if we were ready for our bill and effectively ruining the moment.

The ride back to Travis’s condo was filled with a charged silence, the air between us thick with unspoken tension. As we stepped into the elevator, I could feel the heat radiating from his body, standing so close I could catch the faint scent of his cologne. My fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and touch him.

The soft ding of the elevator reaching our floor startled me out of my thoughts. Travis fumbled with his keys, his usual grace momentarily absent as he unlocked the door. The condo was bathed in the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the sleek hardwood floors.

---