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twenty-two

Skylar

I am so mad that I could kill my brother.

I slam the door behind him and press my back against the coldness. I inhale deeply, pinch my eyes tight, then release the breath. I open my eyes, and Chase is standing in the middle of the room, looking fearful of what may come out of my mouth next.

But my shoulders relax, and I step toward him with a sincere smile on my face.

“He showed up here about twenty minutes before you did.” I explain, “I had no way to warn you. My phone was in front of him, and well, you know how Ethan can be. Was that all true? He wanted you to check in on me?”

“I told him I wouldn’t. But when I pulled up here, I saw his car, and figured it was safer for me to come to the door versus having him find me sitting outside your place. You’re not mad?”

“Not at you, no. That was quick thinking on your part.”

He releases a breath. “I thought I was next to get kicked out.” He steps forward, places his hands on my hips, and pulls me close. He leans down, brushes his lips against mine, and the butterflies in my stomach amplify.

My arms instinctively wrap around his neck, and our bodies are flush against one another as I angle my head, deepening the kiss.

“I have a reservation. So, I think we should get going.” He mumbles into the kiss.

I pull away from him slightly and look up. “But do you really want to?” I ask quietly as he throws his head back with a low groan.

“You know I don’t. But we’re going to do this right. I’m taking you out on a proper date.”

I smile and step away from him. “Well then, Mr. Thorne. Let’s go out on this date.”

The lighting inside the restaurant is dim.

The elegance of the space, combined with a modern design and the traditional warmth of Italian heritage.

The tables are spread apart, but large, giving you as much space as you need for a choice of family style or multiple single plates.

The walls had beautiful landscape paintings with metal sconces adorning the walls, but the style is minimalist at the same time.

The open kitchen sits at one end of the restaurant, the sleek and stainless steel surfaces, and the scent of freshly baked bread, with simmering sauces wafting through the space.

Behind a large glass wall, you can see chefs at work, focused and graceful as they prepare dishes with meticulous care.

A fire burns brightly with its flames dancing behind the glass panel, in the wood-fired pizza oven, tucked neatly into a corner, adding a sense of warmth to the space.

Discussion is endless as we sit across the table together, taking bites of the food placed in front of us.

We’ve discussed the times when Ethan and he would let me win at a friendly card game, or how he would show up at my family’s home after school and do his homework at the kitchen table.

I was always in the background, but never too far away.

The comfort and rhythm of the conversation make it as if we never skipped a step while we were off doing our own things.

We caught up on one another on what’s gone on in our lives from when I left for college until now. We talked about successes, failures, and everything in between.

“You know, I didn’t think this would happen,” he starts as we step out onto the curb after eating.

“What, you and I?” I ask, turning to face him.

“Well, kind of, yeah. I mean, you’re my best friend’s little sister, but it’s also kind of perfect, you know. But it’s also pretty risky.”

I smile at him, my heart beating hard with the realization of how much this moment means to the relationship that we could have had. We’ve always known each other, but now, it’s that we’re seeing one another in a different light.

“I agree,” I say, “and while it’s a gamble, it’s worth it.”

“I agree with that, too.” He whispers, leaning down, his lips taking mine while his large hands wrap tightly around my waist, pulling me against him.

We kiss on the sidewalk for what seems like hours before our car stops beside us.

Chase opens the door, and I take my seat as he rounds the front of the BMW with the valet driver, tossing the keys to him in passing.

A moment later, Chase slides into the driver’s seat, places his hand on my thigh, and gives me a wicked grin.

We drive in silence through the streets until he stops in front of my place. He gets out of the car and comes to my side, pulls me out, and we walk to my front door.

“Come inside? Stay awhile?” I smile.

“Listen, if you think for a second that you’re going to get to have your way with me on the first date. I’m not that kind of girl.” He jokes.

“But what if I am?” I quirk an eyebrow.

He grins before he kisses me again. His kisses are an aphrodisiac.

I push him away, turn, and unlock the door.

I reach behind me and pull him by the arm into my place, kicking the door closed behind us.

The next moment, he is pressing me against the cold surface, his body aligning with mine as his lips ghost across the column of my neck.

I turn my head and let out a breathy sigh once his lips touch my skin.

“Let’s bring this into the bedroom,” my breath comes out shaky.

He doesn’t acknowledge my request; he continues his assault with his lips, and I turn us and maneuver our way through the space and toward the first piece of furniture that we come across — the couch.

I push him down and sit astride him with my center, connecting with the metal baseball bat in his pants.

I lift my shirt over my head, and his eyes zero in on the lace of my bra. He trails a finger from the strap, down to the top of my right breast, traces the fabric, and repeats the motions on the other side while his tongue lashes out and he runs it along his bottom lip.

“We’re not going further than this tonight,” he tells me, finally meeting my eyes.

“Wait, what?”

“We’re not going to jump into it too quickly. I want to take my time with you, savor every moment.”

“Well, this isn’t what I was expecting.” I lean back from him.

“What? I told you I wasn’t that kind of girl.”

“I thought you were joking. Wait, are you joking? Am I getting Punk’d?” I exaggerate, looking around the room.

“No. But I think that you and I getting together is a big deal, and it’s not something to be taken lightly. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this the right way. And besides, why do we need to rush into anything?”

He has a point.

“I mean, it’s always good to do a taste test. What if we’re not compatible?

Wouldn’t that just mean it’s a moot point about us continuing?

What if you’re horrible in bed? Then at that point, we’re so fresh into this dating thing together that we can go our separate ways before anyone catches feelings,” I counter.

“Hey, four things. One, we had our first date. Step one is done, not like that should be a step or anything. Step two, we make out a little. It’s like practice for the next step. Step Three, we take our time getting to know one another more deeply before we actually have sex.”

“You make this sound so clinical.”

“Okay, we get to know one another on a deeper level, before we bang. Better?”

“Yes. Better. How long?” I ask.

“We play it by ear.” He shrugs.

“But we can totally make out as much as possible? That’s step two, yeah?”

He leans in and kisses my neck, “Yes.” He says against my skin.

“Will you sleep over so we can make out all night?”

“I can do that.”

“Great. Wait, you said there were four steps. What’s step four?”

“I’m not horrible in bed.”