Tinder - D.JH.

twenty-seven

     The Ledbury, in London, is the restaurant Dan had called. We tell the woman at the desk about our reservations, and she leads us to our table.

     A chandelier hangs above our booth, the cream colored cushions on the seats match the tablecloth draped over the table in front of us. The table is set with empty wine glasses, silverware wrapped fancily in posh napkins, and in the centre sits a small vase with fully bloomed pastel pink roses splaying out of the top.

     And the only thing my dumb ass can think to say is: "Where are the strippers?"

     Dan laughs a little too loudly, making a few people look over to him, but he doesn't care and neither do I. "That was a joke to keep you on your toes, Maya-moo." he says.

     "Oh, okay, I see." I say as the waiter comes up, handing us black velvet menus with the restaurant's logo across the front in shiny silver lettering.

     "Any drinks to start you off?" the waiter asks.

     "A bottle of Bordeux, please." Dan says, ordering wine.

     "Yes, sir, coming right up." he steps away from the table, leaving us with our menus.

     "I think I everyone's one fatal flaw with you, Dan." I say, raising my eyebrows.

     "What's that?" he asks.

     I lean forward to lower my voice and he can still hear, "You have the power to dick-whip everyone."

     Dan smiles, "That's n—"

     "Everyone."

     "Okay, okay." Dan leans back, as do I. "How do I do that?"

     "When people come into contact with you, they suddenly feel as if they'd do anything for you." I say.

     "What about you?" Dan questions further.

     "Especially me." I say, nodding. "I would do anything for you."

    "Anything?" Dan asks for certain.

     "Yes, anything." I say as the waiter comes back, now holding a bottle of red wine in a stained glass green bottle.

     "Bordeaux wine. Bottled in 1996, produced in an area of southwest France called the Garonne River." the waiter says as he pours wine into our glasses, filling them halfway and then setting the bottle on the table in between Dan and I.

     "I'll be back shortly to take your orders." he nods once, then leaves.

     "Shit, well we'd better figure out what we want." Dan says and we both open the menus.

     Looking at the menu, Dan and I both decide to order the white asparagus soup and roasted cauliflower, but when it comes to dessert, we choose something different so we can share. I choose something called a brown sugar tart with ginger ice cream. Dan chooses, this is a long one, roasted pear ice cream, honey cream and buffalo milk meringue and bee pollen.

     Fucking bee pollen. What the fuck is that? Or should I say, why the fuck is that?

     We eat through our three courses until we're stuffed and a little buzzed off wine. Dan's cheeks are red and rosy, puffing out everytime I make him laugh. It makes me want to make him laugh more, just so I can see him happy all over again.

     After we finish eating, we decide to split the check half and half. After we pay, we leave the restaurant and walk to the underground, where we get on a tube that'll take us close to my flat. After about half an hour, we pack off the tube, walking a block or so back to my place. We stay in a happy, comfortable silence the whole lift ride up.

     Unlocking my door, I drop my purse inside at the door, also slipping off my shoes. Dan does the same with his shoes.

     I lead him to the bedroom, then flop down on my bed. "Dan?" I say.

     "Yes, love?" he asks.

     "I'm gonna need you to undress me." I answer, too lazy to get up and undress myself.

     "You don't have to tell me twice." Dan says, starting to undo my belt. He untucks my shirt and lifts it over my head, exposing my black bra. Then, I stand up, and he unzips the back of my skirt, pulling it down slightly until it falls around my ankles. Taking my hands, he balances me so I can step out of it.

     "Thanks." I sit back down on the bed.

     "It's no problem." Dan says as he slips his jacket off, hanging it on my doorknob. I watch as he pulls his t-shirt off over his head, then unbuckles his pants. It's such a simply movement that most everyone does on the daily, but somehow, it looks like art when he does it.

     Slipping off his trousers, he is left in just his boxers. Walking over to me, he leans down and connects our lips, sending sparks through my chest.

He slightly pushes me back so that I fall back on to my bed with him on top of me. He runs his hands through my hair, tucking an unruly part behind my ear. Then, after a while, he pulls away and lays beside me.

"I'm cold." he says after a few moments.

Laughing, I say, "Well we should get under the duvet, then."

He agrees and we both stand up as I lift up a part of the duvet, slipping under it to find some warmth. Dan slips in next, instantly intertwining our legs up, wrapping his arms around my waist and nestling his face in the angle of my neck.

"Maya?" he asks, his breath tingling against my skin.

"Yes, Dan?"

"I'm in love with you." he says, barely above a whisper.

"I'm in love with you, too."