Page 48 of Fierce-Hyde

“I’m not completely sure,” he said. “It’s been a rough couple of weeks with CeeCee. I think of what could have happened. Then I think of what happened with Shana. I finally told myself I didn’t want regrets anymore. I don’t know what tomorrow is going to bring and refuse to look back and think I was too afraid to do something I’d been thinking about.”

It might have been the one thing he could have said to get her to be more open without even knowing she needed to hear it.

“You’re right,” she said. “I find when we are together, we are either laughing and have a good time or wanting to bite each other’s heads off.”

“I’m trying to figure out why that is,” he said.

“Have you yet?”

“No,” he said. “How about you?”

She wasn’t going to share that she thought it was hormones. That’d be stupid on her part.

“I wish,” she said. “If you figure it out before me, will you share it?”

“Does that mean I can plan on more than this date tonight?”

“We’ll see,” she said.

But an hour later, she was having such a good time.

It felt wonderful to put all the drama of her mother and the stress of her job in a closet and shut the door for a few hours.

She was with a guy that made her laugh and turned her on.

“We can call it a night,” he said. “Or get another drink. Your choice.”

“How about we get that drink at your place,” she said. “Then we won’t be holding up a table. I mean it’s not like we’ve got far to go.”

“No,” he said. “We don’t. We can drive over and you can park your car in the lot.”

He settled the bill and they left.

She might be nuts to go to his place, but she suggested it.

Maybe she did want to get to know him more. Even seeing his apartment, she’d get a better idea of him.

They drove to his place, she parked where he’d pointed a spot out to her and then walked into the building and to the fifth floor.

The building reminded her of a hotel more than apartments, but when he opened his door, she was surprised to see how light and bright it was.

Modern too.

“This is nice,” she said. “Very fresh.”

“It’s a newer building. Less than five years old.”

It wasn’t that big from what she could see, but they moved into the kitchen that opened into the living room. There was a door to the side and she noticed it was his bedroom.

“Are those pictures of your family?” she asked, moving to the bookshelf.

“They are,” he said. “Several of my sister and me growing up. One of my parents.”

She looked at the pictures in frames, different sizes, and was stunned that she’d never been with a guy that had family pictures out like this.

“I’m jealous,” she said.

“Of what?” he asked.

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