Page 29 of Jake

It was rare that he brought a date back to his apartment, something that in the few instances the date had made it past two months, he would consider. Tonight, he had zero expectations. He just wanted to hang out with her.

“What kind of pizza do you like?” he asked as the elevator doors closed.

“No olives or onions, beyond that I can eat whatever,” she answered.

He put one finger under her chin, urging her to look at him again. “I want to know what you like,” he told her as she looked up at him.

She blushed, and he relished in the fact that he knew their nearness affected her.

“Pepperoni, sausage, and green peppers,” she answered, still looking at him.

The temptation to kiss her was so real that he had to swallow just to try to get a grip on it and keep it away. It was too soon for that.

“Anywhere you like pizza from in particular?”

“No, on that I have no preference,” she answered honestly.

The elevator doors slid open as they reached his apartment. He was proud of it but had never cared what anyone else thought too much. It was his space for him. Tonight, though, he watched as he dropped his fingers from her chin and she looked around.

He wanted her to like it. It was a strange feeling to watch and wait for her to look around and react.

“This is your apartment?” she asked.

“Yep.”

They walked in and she looked around before going straight for the windows. “This view . . .”

Jake joined her at the windows and looked out. He paid little attention to the view, ironic since it was a main reason he had bought this apartment. It was beautiful now, would be even more amazing at night as the sky turned dark and the lights came on.

He took a step back, clearing his throat. She liked the view, now for him to make her like the man too. “Let me get dinner ordered. Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” she said absently, still looking out the window.

He smiled as he sat on the couch, punching in their food order. She joined him after a minute but sat on the opposite end of the couch, her back straight.

“Looks like it will be about an hour. You can relax. I promise I don’t bite.”

“I’m good.”

She looked like she was attending a business function, ankles crossed and to the side, back stiff, ready to answer any question.

“Not that I’m complaining about how you relax, but you should work on that,” he joked.

She blushed again and he, yet again, fought the urge to kiss her.

“Okay, fine,” she said, slipping off her shoes. She attempted to tuck her feet next to her on the couch, only to put them back down as her skirt resisted.

It hadn’t crossed his mind how she was dressed for work. It was probably the least comfortable thing to relax in. The black skirt hugged her curves and looked damn good, but it couldn’t be comfortable. Her white blouse was tucked in but flowed at the top. It was very simple, professional, but not relaxing.

“We have about an hour before the pizza comes. Do you want me to run you home so you can actually get comfortable?” he offered.

“It would probably take longer than that at this time of day.” She wasn’t whining; her tone was matter of fact.

“Do you want to borrow something?”

She looked him up and down before laughing. “I don’t think that would work.”

“I assure you I own things with drawstrings.” He stood and went to her, holding out his hand. “Come on.”

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