Page 18 of Mastered By Lust

A large package sits on one of the workout benches. It’s wrapped in shimmery, light pink paper and adorned with a deep pink bow. The box is as long as my arms can span, but fairly shallow, maybe a foot.

“This is forme?” I approach the box, wiggling in my excitement. I’m glad he can’t see how giddy I am. I should be cool and calm.

“It’s for you. Open it. And stay on the phone. I want to hear what you think.”

I put the phone on speaker and drop it on the workout bench next to the box. Then, I ease off the box top and shove aside the shimmering cream-toned tissue paper to reveal a dress.

It’s beautiful. The rich, copper-toned fabric crisscrosses over the chest. I won’t know until I try it on, but it looks like it will leave a sexy little peekaboo triangle above the stomach. It’s calf-length and has short sleeves, and I can already tell it’s going to look amazing on me. I can’t wait to put it on. When I pull it from the box, I find a pair of matching sandals.

“I love it,” I breathe.

“Good. Get dressed and wait for me in the foyer. I’ll be there in twenty minutes to pick you up.”

* * *

Gage

She’s a vision.

I’ve spent all day trying to talk myself out of letting these feelings develop, but my starved heart finally has a feast in front of it.

I park in front of the building and come around my car to open the door for her. The dress fits her perfectly, as I’d hoped. Form-fitting, flattering. Her skin is beautiful against the rich brown fabric.

“How are the shoes?” I help her into the car.

“Perfect. Did you hunt through my things to figure out my sizes?”

“Yes. I assume you don’t mind.”

She smiles up at me, her red-stained lips so kissable. “I don’t mind at all. Thank you for the gift. I love it.”

A few minutes later, I pass the keys to a valet and guide Leah into Abdul’s Restaurant. Leah seems to think that dates are important in the formative stages of a relationship. I vaguely remember going on dates, but they were hazy, group affairs. The Shinies were constantly together, even after the show dissolved.

Abdul’s is in a remodeled, historic firehouse. The white-painted brick walls are broken by old windows with their original, warped glass. Paintings and photography from San Esteban School of the Arts are on display, bringing color and modernity to the atmosphere.

My hand shakes as I pull out Leah’s chair. Am I nervous? I am; I want the date to go well. I want to show I’m human and understand modern courtship. I want to move past my odd hang-ups and embrace a new life. With her.

She takes in the surrounding restaurant, her smile radiant. “I’ve never been here before.”

“Never? I heard this was a popular date spot.” In other words, I spent two hours researching San Esteban’s best date-night restaurants and comparing their reviews, menus, and atmosphere. I thought Leah would like this one best.

Her smile diminishes somewhat. “Yes. Well. This is my first time here, and I’m really glad of it.”

I wonder what isn’t said. Does she not want to speak ill of her ex? Probably.

There are better conversations to be had, anyway. I know who she is in the present, but almost nothing about her past or her preferences.

As we eat and drink—pistachio-crusted halibut for her, Abdul’s maple-brined pork chop for me—I quiz her. Favorite flower—a rose, because of their scent and the wide array of colors. Favorite color—undecided; it depends on her mood.

She quizzes me right back, asking my favorite flower.

I chuckle. “I don’t have one, but I’ll do some research.”

“And your favorite color?”

“I’m partial to blue.” I stare directly into her eyes as I say it, waiting for her to make the connection, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t realize how beautiful she is, or how she has captivated my heart.

I need her. All of her. I want to bring her closer and keep her there.

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