They're Playing Our Song

Soap-er In Love With You

They stopped at a pedestrian crossing. Framed by the fluorescent lighting of the nearby convenience store, he decided that he was an idiot for not realizing this earlier, but Nora Cantos was beautiful. Sure he thought she was pretty, but in this light, she was stunning. Heart-stopping. Moon-strikingly, beautiful.

When they were in the hotel, he'd kept glancing at her lips, and tonight they were extra full, plump, and a little shimmery from the gloss she'd put on. He had a direct view of the way color flushed her perfectly round cheeks, the way she pressed her lips together when she noticed him looking at her. There was a practiced perfection to her, he realized. Like she was hiding something behind those light brown eyes. And those eyes could see right into his.

She'd changed into a green sundress, the skirt of which now billowed in the wind, touching his bare legs. The dress did the perfect job of accentuating the size of her breasts, showing off the dip of her waist while hiding her belly. He liked that she didn't seem shy about showing off her arms, still a little warm, freckly and tanned from the sun.

Leo was a handsome man, a fact that he didn't shy away from and deny. And as a handsome man, had met and dated quite a lot of women. He was used to the quick jolts and zips of attraction. He worked in Broadway after all, and he knew how to whip those feelings out of thin air.

But attraction had never, ever hit him like this—like a lightning bolt striking him twice, shaking him awake and telling him, 'you dumbass, you've been sleeping on this girl, and look. She's a fucking stunner.'

How had he missed that when he first saw her?

She bit her bottom lip, and Leo cleared his throat, suddenly nervous.

"You okay?" She asked, concern on her face. She was still holding his arm.

"Yeah. Do you know where we're eating?"

She seemed to accept this answer, smiling. That smile lit up her whole face, the whole universe, his whole heart. "I do. It's not far, come on."

With her hand still on his wrist, she pulled him across the narrow street, to a place that was nothing more than a shop window and three small tables next to it. Had this been Paris, it would have been described as a corner cafe, but as they were thousands of miles away, it was more apt to describe the place as a concrete shack. A nice little shack that served food 24/7 for anyone who came up to the window. Leo didn't even see a name, but she seemed to think that this was the place for them.

"Uhm. Interesting choice," He noted.

"Where have you been eating if you haven't eaten here?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"I've been eating at this shack next to the hotel that serves really good shakshuka."

"Gazeundheit?"

"You're welcome," he immediately replied, and they both looked at each other with complete confusion, because clearly, they had both lost the plot.

So far, this date was going really well.

Leo Solano knew what to do with attraction. He knew how to channel it and let a girl know that he felt it, knew how to ask if she felt the same. This was as easy for him as breathing, this art of flirtation. But the effect of his really sexy line was lost when his stomach gave an audible grumble. Thanks a lot, body.

"I think I need to put some food in you," She laughed, but let go of his wrist, her fingers accidentally brushing against his in the process. Leo clenched and flexed the hand she'd touched, already somehow missing the contact. Curious.