Page 69 of Not the Plan

Fuck them, Isadora! Now ring the goddamned bell!She punched her finger into it and threw her shoulders back.

He opened the door and his smile disintegrated.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Noth-nothing,” he said. “You…I think this is the first time I’ve seen you with your hair down.”

“It is?” She’d straightened her hair, twisted two small sections on each side and pinned them down.

“I think so.” He blinked twice.

“You don’t like it.”

“No, no, I do. I really…Sorry, would you please come in?”

“Thanks.” She ducked down as she stepped inside, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear.

“Isadora, I’m sorry. You surprised me, that’s all.”

“You look like it’s a bad surprise.”

He closed the door. “It’s certainly not. You’re, well, I keep using the same word, but it fits. You’re beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you,” she said, the uncertainty she’d tried to leave on his doorstep wrapping itself around her again.

“Please, come in.” He led her through the short entry and into his living room. He kept glancing at her as though he wasn’t sure who she was. “Would you like something to drink? I have some Riesling.”

She smiled. “Sounds good.”

He went into the kitchen and poured two glasses. She tucked her purse behind her on the couch and slid her hands over her knees, calming their tremble. His session-only apartment was pretty much as decorated as her own. But where she’d taken the cheapest furniture package, his was all masculine brown leather.

“Opted for the leather package?” she asked as he joined her on the couch.

“I was surprised you hadn’t.”

“Why?”

He handed her a glass, and they both took a sip.

“I’d imagined you were into leather.” He smiled.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. His gaze got too intense.

“I’m sorry, but you are gorgeous. I don’t mean to stare.”

“Thank you, Karim. I had no idea it would throw you for such a loop.”

His lips bent up, an attempt at a smile that didn’t succeed. He focused on his glass, rolling it in his palms. “I wanted to make you dinner,” he said.

“Oh?” Food hadn’t occurred to her. Fighting between her want and her nerves, she hadn’t had any available mental space.

“But then,” he said, voice low, gaze still on his glass, “I didn’t know what you would like…and I couldn’t decide, and…” He sighed, meeting her eyes. “Blunt, honest?”

“Yes.”

“I have…areallyhard time thinking straight when it comes to you.”

He’d set off that delicious kaleidoscope of butterflies again, and she was terrified. But she refused to leave him vulnerable.

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