Page 13 of Babydaddy To Go

From my post in the hallway, I take in my new apartment. I’ve never lived on my own before. I tried to make the place as homey as possible before Nate arrived to take me out, but it doesn’t quite feel like mine yet. The photos of my grandparents and me are comforting, but I need more.

In the small bedroom, my two suitcases are still settled on the bed where I left them. Only a few pieces of clothing were removed when I was getting ready for the date. My second suitcase, still zipped, is the one I want. I open it and find it half-filled with clothes. The other half, though, contains the few knick-knacks, posters, and various personal artifacts I allowed myself to take when I left.

The smaller things can wait until I’ve set up my desk. What I’m looking for is folded against the bottom of the suitcase. I pull it out and unfold it, revealing a beautiful royal purple tapestry. The edges are fraying, the colors slightly faded, but I love it just the same. My mother had it hanging in her dorm room when she was in college. It’s been in my bedroom since her death, and it was only fitting that I bring it with me here.

I tack the tapestry against the plain white wall in the living room, facing the couch. I’m nowhere near done, but this place feels a little bit more like home now.

My eyes wander to the kitchen and land on the microwave clock. Is it really after ten already? Nate and I spent almost five hours together. It felt like thirty minutes. Time truly does fly when you’re with someone who makes it easy to lose yourself.

I still can’t believe I started my adventure here with a gorgeous guy and that he kissed me after our night together. It’s like something out of a movie!

Knowing I have an early day tomorrow, I prepare for bed. Less than fifteen minutes later, I’m settled under my blankets with the TV remote in hand. The modest flat screen was a gift from my grandparents for my new apartment. We had it delivered and installed a few days ago so I’d be able to use it as soon as I got in.

I flick through the channels, but nothing captures my attention. Why is there never anything good on TV after like, nine at night? What are the night owls supposed to watch?

Passing by annoying cop shows and comedic talk show hosts, I finally settle on the cooking channel. I don’t know why I bothered checking other stations. I always end up watching the cooking channel anyway.

The show is one of my favorites, starring my favorite chef. He’s only on from a distance, but that black hair is unmistakable. Nathaniel Glover is so hot!

The camera zooms in on his face and my heart stops.

Yes, Nathaniel Glover is ridiculously hot. He has stunning dark hair and even more stunning blue eyes. Blue eyes I am now intimately familiar with. In fact, I’ve seen them up close and personal because on my TV is the face of the man who kissed me tonight. I kissed Nathaniel Glover! How did I not recognize him?

To start, he was wearing normal clothes, and not his traditional chef’s attire. Plus, people always look slightly different on TV than they do in real life. If it weren’t for his eyes, I might not have known Nate was Nathaniel.

Oh my god, I hyperventilate in my mind.I kissed my dream guy!

I pause the DVR on an up-close frame of Nathaniel’s face. There’s no denying that this is the same guy who left my apartment an hour ago. Omg omg omg. My heart is pounding in my chest. Not only did I kiss Nathaniel Glover, but I made dinner with him too.

Now what?I think. Does Nate think I’m an idiot for not recognizing him? The guy has been on the cover of every cooking magazine in the country. I gushed to him about going to culinary school! Was he laughing at me all night, thinking I was just some naïve girl who didn’t know she had a celebrity in front of her?

No, Nate wouldn’t do that. He was so sweet, taking me on a tour of Central Park and helping me prepare dinner. He even gave me some pointers on cooking, like using a serrated knife on tomatoes. How did that not give away his true identity? How could I have not realized? I guess it’s because I was new to the city and things were hitting me so fast, right and left. The fact that I was actually hanging out with the man of my dreams slipped my mind, I was in such a daze.

My phone sits charging on my night stand. Should I text him and tell him that I know who he is now?

My hand reaches for the phone, but instead of opening our earlier text conversation, I go straight to the internet. A quick google search leads to hundreds of articles and photos. I’ve read most of these before, but now I’m looking for something different.

Does Nathaniel Glover have a girlfriend?I enter into the search bar. This time, the results are different than the ones I’ve read before. Thankfully, the consensus is that Nate is among New York’s most eligible bachelors. At least I don’t have to worry about a disgruntled girlfriend coming after me for smooching her man!

I toss my phone back on the table before I have the urge to text him. I’m too nervous to open that door. What if he doesn’t want me to know who he is? Or even worse, what if he doesn’t like me now that I know? Is it possible that he was just looking for a night out with someone who was too dense to recognize him?

Ugh! This is ridiculous. I should have recognized him the second I saw him! I’m so embarrassed. He’ll probably never talk to me again.

No, that can’t happen. If he doesn’t contact me in a few days, then I’ll suck it up and contact him. I don’t want to lose the best thing that has happened to me since arriving in New York. True, I’ve only been here a day, but it can’t be just some coincidence that we met. I like to believe our train station encounter was destiny.

I can’t stand to see Nate’s face on TV anymore, so I switch it off. I should be getting some sleep, anyway. I close my eyes and will myself to fall asleep, but it doesn’t work.

There’s some chamomile tea stocked in the cabinets in the kitchen, one of the few food products I packed from home. Maybe if I brew a cup, I’ll be able to fall asleep.

Being in the kitchen reminds me of the hours Nate and I spent together today. I had my dream date with my dream guy, right here at this counter!

I set a pot of water on to boil for my tea. The fridge is mostly empty, with the exception of the leftover tacos, some extra ingredients, and a small thing of light cream I added to our groceries earlier. I need a little cream in my tea or I can’t drink it.

Once the tea is ready, I settle against the counter to sip quietly. The cream cools it down enough that I can sip it without losing my tongue. It would be awful to burn my tongue the night before I start culinary school! It’s nearly impossible to accurately taste food with an injury like that. I’d probably be kicked out after my first day!

Do they kick people out of school? I’ve already paid the full year’s worth of tuition. I imagine they’ll let anyone stay if they pay for it.

That thought isn’t reassuring.