Chapter 2

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Jun sent me his address in the midst of all of the clothing decisions. This was part of those new condos they just built uptown. The rent was three times of what my rent was and some of the units had floor to ceiling windows. With a doorman. a fancy lobby, and all.    

Parking in their parking deck with my twenty dollar bottle of red wine, my nerves started to rush. But this was nothing. There was no reason to be nervous. We were just friends, with maybe some benefits. Maybe?

I told myself we were just getting to know each other over and over as I walked through the lobby and into the elevator. Don't get ahead of yourself Ariana. But that kiss.

I got off at the top floor and walked right to his door, the third in a hallway of three. Tapping on what I hoped was the right door and it almost immediately opened with the smell of some kind of beef wafting through.

He was standing there in a pair of black slacks, white button up with sleeves rolled up to the elbow. His hair tossed like he just woke up, but in a kept messy way. Feet in grey slippers and a big smile on his face.

"You made it," he beamed. "Come in."    

"Thanks for the invite," I said walking into a completely open modern concept studio loft. The ceilings were high and a wall had nothing windows.

It was gorgeous and simply put together. A perfect fit for him.            

I handed him the wine and he smirked. "I thought I said not to bring anything."        

"Impossible. But this wine is good," I said. It was the same kind Jayla and I always had together.

He barely looked at the label and placed it on the kitchen island. "Thanks. I'm sure it's delicious. Can I take your coat?"

I nodded as he walked over and helped me out of it before hanging it in the closet by the door.

"This place is incredible," I said, wandering through the living area. A set of stairs spiraled up to what could have only been the bedroom.                                

"Thanks. Much nicer than what's at home," he chuckled walking up right behind me with a glass of wine. I didn't even hear him open or pour the bottle.

We toasted and looked at each other dead in the eyes. Not an a single glint of motive. Just open and honest. He sipped it and nodded with approval.            

"What's for dinner? It smells incredible," I asked, praying the wine would kill the nerves newly brought in by him staring at me.    

"I'm sorry. I didn't say how beautiful you look tonight," he said with a flash flown.    

My face lit up. "Oh, thank you."    

He walked towards me placing the glass down on the coffee table. Wrapping one arm around the small of my back, he leaned in and kissed my forehead.

"You're welcome. And it's beef osso buco."

Tingles rushed straight up my spine.

"Really? That must be taking you hours," I said, feeling the flutter continue in my chest.            

He grinned, stroking my cheek with his thumb. "I found a pressure cooker recipe, so not as long as usually."            

I nodded and took another swig of wine, feeling my pulse in a different place other than my chest. "How much longer?"    

"About thirty minutes. You actually caught me in the middle of making pasta for it," he said walking back towards the kitchen, taking my hand in the process.

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