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“Lila, you’re… the most incredible girl I’ve ever met. I swear. There’s just something about you that…” He laughs. “God, this sounds so… I don’t know, but, seeing you, makes my day.”
I gape at him in amazement, my brain refusing to process what he’s saying.
“You’re lying.”
He laughs. “I swear, I’m not.”
He has his hands crossed on his chest, leaning back in his chair, and God, why does he have to looksofucking good? His eyes sparkle and his mouth is curled into a smile that reveals a glimpse of his perfect white teeth, surrounded by that perfectly shaped beard that now has some stubble growing out around the sharp lines down his neck.
“I should have asked you out way sooner,” he says.
“Why didn’t you?”
“We work together and all. And honestly, I never thought you’d be interested. I just figured you’d think I was some sleezy old creep trying to pick up younger girls,” he says as we both burst out in a laugh.
“Not at all,” I say, smiling at him as he reaches across the table and takes my hand.
I cannot believe he’s liked me all this time too.
“How old actually are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
His smile turns from a simple joy to that sexy, devilish playfulness that instantly gets my heart racing and my insides clenching with need.
“You mean to say you haven’t looked me up?”
I laugh slightly, biting my lip as a fresh wave of heat flushes across my face.
Of course I had, but the computer system at work didn’t give me access to staff personal info past first and last name and job title, and on his Facebook profile, he only had the date of his birthday, not the year.
I shake my head with a sweet smile, thinking that if I said anything out loud, it would give me away.
“Take a guess,” he teases.
“No, honestly, I’m terrible with ages.”
He stretches his leg out under the table, gently rubbing his foot against my leg, and I wonder how it’s possible that even such a simple motion sends a tingle shooting across my skin.
“Go on, just have a guess. I’m curious,” he insists.
I study his features closely. His skin is smooth, without many wrinkles aside from the soft creases at the corners of his eyes. His hair is mostly dark, though a scattering of silver streaks highlights every few strands. At work, his hair is always styled up and slicked back. Today, it lays softer on his head, a few loose tendrils hanging down, and it’s rough and scruffy in the cutest way.
“Hmm, I’ll go with….forty….six?”
“Oof.” He hits his fist to his chest, imitating the sound of an arrow striking him in the heart.
“I’m sorry!” I exclaim, dropping my head into my hands in embarrassment, but the sound of his laugh brings me right back.
“I’m only playing. You’re not far off. I’m forty-five,” he says.
“Oh. Okay. That’s not too bad.”
“Oh yea?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Yea. Besides, I was being generous,” I joke and he laughs - a big, loud laugh that warms my soul from the inside out, radiating a smile across my face that feels like it’s going to stay there forever.
“Alright then, what about you?” he asks. His eyes are still lit up with laughter.
“Your turn to guess,” I shoot back at him.