Page 6 of Not My Finest Hour

“In that case,” I say, getting up from the table, “I’ll go grab my things and we can head out. Thanks for making me breakfast.”

I take my dishes to the sink where Justin is still standing, and before I can rinse them off, he takes them from me and sets them down. We’re standing close and our eyes meet. He leans in and brushes his lips against mine, kissing me gently, tentatively. But it’s not enough for me, and I rise on the balls of my feet for more. His arm snakes around my waist, pulling me closer to him as the force of his lips part mine. Maybe I’m going to get round two after all. Feeling optimistic, I move my hands toward the waistband on his pants and begin to untuck his shirt. Apparently that was the wrong move because his kisses ease up and he takes my hands in his.

“Believe me, I want to,” he says, his eyes focusing on my lips. “But I really need to get going.”

I let out an exaggerated sigh. “I know. I have things to do this morning too, but I thought that maybe if we were quick…”

He flashes a grin. “The next time we’re together, I want to take my time with you.”

I give him a peck on the lips. “Next time? Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” And with that statement, I leave the kitchen and pick up my clothes from his bedroom floor. I scan his bedroom to make sure I didn’t leave anything behind and meet Justin by the door where he’s waiting for me.

It doesn’t take us long to get to my house, and just as I’m getting ready to get out, he puts a hand on my arm. “I’m going to need your number. I’m not going to let this be the last I see of you,” he says.

I rattle off my number to him as he punches it into his phone. “Text me sometime. Maybe I’ll answer,” I say, knowing full well I’m answering the moment he texts me. A hot doctor who owns his own home and is handy around the house? Yes, please!

He gives me one last searing kiss, just to make sure I don’t forget about him. “I’ll text you soon,” he says as I step out of his car.

Standing on the sidewalk, I lean in and meet his gaze. “Thanks for the clothes. I’m keeping them.”

ChapterThree

“Jesus, Dahlia!” My sister’s shrill voice startles me as I walk through the front door. “Where have you been? I thought something happened to you.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve texted.” I put my head down and vow to stay apologetic. I don’t want to say something that’ll agitate her more than she already is.

Fern puts a hand on her hip and glares at me. My redheaded, petite sister may not be a large person, but she can sure fill a room when she wants to. She’s positioned herself right in my way, giving me no choice but to face her wrath. “Yeah, you should’ve. Where the hell were you? I texted your friends, and they said you left with some guy, but they couldn’t give me a name or number for him.”

“That’s because I never gave them his name. I didn’t really check in with them before I left. They had all found their own guys to possibly leave with at the end of the night, and I found someone too. I spent the night at his place.” I realize that explanation doesn’t help my situation any because in terms of being safe and looking out for each other, we all kind of lost our heads last night. But maybe Fern will take pity on me because it’s the first time I’ve been with someone since Alain. And wouldn’t she be happy that I’m getting back out in the dating scene again?

She rolls her eyes.Guess not.“Don’t you guys realize the danger you put yourselves in? Something really bad could’ve happened—not just to you, but to all of you.”

“I know. And the next time we go out, I’ll make sure to do a better job keeping track of where everyone is going,” I say, hoping that will be the end of her lecture. But Fern remains in place, eyes locked on mine. “I’d love to talk more about this, but I need to take a shower. I have a doctor’s appointment before work today, and I need to get going if I’m going to make it on time.”

She finally relents and moves away from the door, letting me into the rest of the house. “I made oatmeal this morning. There are some leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks for the offer, but Justin made me breakfast.”

Fern raises a brow. “He cooked for you? You’d better keep this one. You’re going to need to eat, and you’re not much of a cook yourself,” she says with a grin.

“You’re one to talk,” I fire back. “You couldn’t boil water until Julie left and you had to figure out how to feed yourself.”

Julie was Fern’s roommate for a few years, and she basically kept my sister fed the entire time they lived together. But Julie moved back to Texas, where she was from, which opened up a bedroom for me to move into.

Fern lets out a mirthless chuckle and checks her watch. “Don’t you have to get ready? As much as I’d love to exchange witty remarks with you all morning, I need to get to work.” I make a move toward my bedroom, and before I enter Fern yells, “You’d better tell me more about Justin tonight.” As if she’d let me get away with keeping him to myself.

A quick shower is all I have time for, and I give my auburn hair a blow dry, leaving my hair wavy instead of straightening it like I usually do. I throw on a pair of dress pants and a pink blouse, then head to the living room to grab my purse. Fern has already left for work, so I lock the door before heading out to my car. My Honda hatchback is the same car I had when I graduated high school. But I’m not ashamed of it. It gets good gas mileage, still looks good, and it's paid for which is great for my budget. Right before I’m getting ready to pull away from the curb, my phone pings with an incoming text.

JUSTIN:I told myself I was going to wait until tonight to text you, but I can’t wait that long. When can I see you again?

A smile creeps across my face. Justin can’t seem to get enough of me, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same way.

ME:I’ll text you later to arrange something

Justin texts me back a thumbs-up emoji, so I know that he’s at least read my message.

By the time I arrive for my appointment, I’ve only got a couple of minutes to spare, so I hurry up the steps to the second floor of the building where my doctor’s office is. Even though I thought I was giving myself plenty of time, traffic was stop-and-go in so many different spots, making the commute here take almost double the time it needed to. I breeze through the door to the office, check in with the receptionist, then take a seat in the waiting room.

God, I hate these appointments so much. It’s a routine Pap smear, which shouldn’t take that long, but does anyone really enjoy getting undressed to put everything on display down there?

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