When Friday night came rolling around, Alix could do nothing but sit down on her couch. She kept her eyes trained on the front door, as if the simple act of looking would make Taivon get here sooner. Of course, according to the clock, she still had roughly five minutes of waiting to do, which wasn't anything at all when compared to the eternity she'd spent on picking out her wardrobe.
He'd said something about an Italian restaurant, but the fanciness of the eatery had not been mentioned, leaving Alix with a load of questions. Fortunately for her, Leon had stopped by to help her out some, and they'd decided on a pair of her nicer jeans with a loose, white button down shirt that would be transparent if not for the black cami underneath.
He'd left shortly after, not asking her any more questions about who “the guy” was, and Alix was extremely glad that he was gone, too. She could still remember the times her boyfriends in high school had come to pick her up. Leon, the normal older brother, hadn't been the nicest person. Her father hadn't been kind, either, always muttering things underneath his breath at her current boy of the month.
Alix didn't blame them. She'd embraced that rebellious, teenage streak with more ferocity than was healthy. Back in school, when she'd been forced to sit still and listen to boring lectures, she would dream away, not caring about anything else but the pierced guys and getting away. Her body would object to sitting still in her desk, and more often than not, she'd write down different ideas for people who didn't exist.
She glanced at the clock again and saw that her five minutes were up. Taivon would be here any second now, Alix just knew it. He seemed like the type to always be on time. True to her assumptions, a solid three knocks reverberated off the front door exactly on the hour.
Wiping her sweaty hands down the legs of her jeans, she took a deep breath just as her hand came in contact with the cool metal of the doorknob. Below her, Chief let out a pouty meow. His bright, feline eyes looked up at her hand and then at her legs, right before widening as she opened the door just a crack.
Taivon was standing there, on the smooth concrete of the apartment's porch. His thick brown hair blew a little in the slight breeze, the hair of his trimmed beard looking just as soft. He wore his green Carhartt jacket, a pair of worn but clean jeans, and brown ranger's boots. His hand was shoved into his pocket.
She'd never thought that this clean, kempt boy look could ever be attractive, but Taivon had been proving her wrong since night one.
“Hey,” he said, eyes scanning her from head to toe. “You look nice.”
She didn't get the chance to reply; instead, Chief's sudden hissing interrupted her next complement of him. When she looked down, Alix saw the hair on his back raised, his spine arched and matched his poofed out tail.
“Who's this?” Taivon asked just before crouching down, hands on his knees and head craned forward. He outstretched his hand slowly. Chief's back arched more, and another hiss left her cat's mouth.
“This is my cat, Chief.” Alix scooped up her kitty. “Don't know why he's being such a dick. He usually loves people.”
Taivon didn't say anything, only reaching out his hand with a small curve to his lips. He seemed to be enjoying this. As his fingers touched the spot where Chief loved to be pet, her cat reared back in her arms, hind legs clawing at her arms.
“Sorry,” he told her after she put him down. “I thought he'd like-”
“He usually does,” Alix cut him off quickly before walking out onto the porch and slamming the door shut. “I think he's just kinda cranky 'cause he knows he's gonna have to share.”
“Share?”
“Well, he's been the only male in my life for the past few years now. Apart from my family, he's never had any competition.”
A small smile graced his face. “Am I winning, then?”
“Depends on how tonight goes,” she teased.
Silence enveloped them after that, only interrupted by the sound of their shoes walking on the sidewalk to his car. It was a sleek SUV and looked brand spanking new. He followed her to the passenger door, and she was just about to ask him what he was doing when he stretched out his arm, grasped the door handle, and motioned for her to get inside.
Alix knew she shouldn't be surprised at this sort of nice treatment, but she was and managed to thank him before hopping into the warm interior. He got in a few moments later, turning the key in one quick flick of his wrist. His woodsy scent enveloped her, cocooning her as she remembered him holding her. The radio was turned off, and they were once again surrounded by silence. Not tense but not the most comfortable, either.
“Taivon?” she asked, breaking the quiet with just that small word.
He didn't take his eyes off the road. “Yeah?”
“Can we turn on the radio?”
He didn't respond, leaving Alix's hands to sweat all the more. In the dim interior of the car, the planes of his face cast shadows across his cheekbones, jaw, and nose. She saw as he gulped and for a second, as she looked at his eyes for any form of communication, the barest hint of moisture in his eyes was bared ot her.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn't mean to-”
“It's fine.” He cleared his throat. “I just don't listen to music.”
“You don't like it?”
“I don't know anymore. It's hard to have an opinion on something when you don't listen to it.”
Alix looked out the window, ignoring the feeling of apprehension in her stomach. “Okay.”
“Sorry.”
She couldn't help but smile at his unnecessary apologies. He was so unlike anybody she'd ever met before. So shy, timid, and sweet – not to mention mysterious. Taivon Cantrell had a hold on her; something told her she had the same effect.
“Don't apologize,” she said and reached over to place a light touch on his shoulder.
Through the thick jacket, Alix felt as his muscles tensed up. It wasn't a type of flexing motion that some men did to make themselves appear more masculine, but rather a sort of startled movement, as if her touch wasn't welcomed. She kept her hand there, anyway, a sort of test to piece together the puzzle that was him.
“Sorry.” His face cringed after the words came out.
She laughed as the tension went out of her body. “You do realize you just apologized for apologizing, don't you?”
He didn't laugh, not even a chuckle. Instead, the shoulder underneath her hand rolled its muscles again and again. It seemed as if he had gotten more tense. Alix had a feeling that it was because of her. Pulling her hand away, she set it down on her lap and looked back out the window again.
Outside the car, the moon cast its glow on the forest. Its trees surrounded them, looking dark and ominous in the night. The stars here accompanied the moon with their natural light, and Alix was sure that if she were to look back at Taivon, she would be able to see more of his face. But she didn't turn around; she just kept her eyes focused on the trees.
And then, rough, long fingers circled around the hand in her lap, slowly bringing her hand onto the center console to entwine their fingers together. She did look this time, liking the way in which his tanned skin blended with hers. When she raised her eyes to see his face, Alix saw the clenching of his jaw and the stiffness of his posture.
“So this is third date stuff?” she asked.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. One hand was on the steering wheel, and the other was holding hers, not in his pocket like usual. His grip on her hand tightened. He opened his mouth once more. Then he closed it again.
She wanted to say something, she really did, but this silence from him was unnerving. This whole hand in his pocket thing was something worth paying attention to if she wanted to further this relationship they had. But it was awfully hard to make any progress when the man refused to talk.
“Have you been to the place before?” she asked, hoping for at least a one word response.
He looked at her, at his hand on the steering wheel, and then back to the road. His only response was to nod his head. It was a few minutes later of tense silence when the bright, golden lights of a small restaurant flashed in the distance.
After he parked, Taivon removed his hand from hers and walked around the SUV. She opened her door and hopped out, but when she did, she almost ran into his broad chest. The tip of her nose was mere inches away from the zipper of his jacket. The hand shoved into his pocket was dangerously close to her hip.
“What are you doing?” He backed her up against the car door, large body imprisoning her without even a single touch.
“Uhm...Getting out?”
He gave her one of those half-smiles, the one that didn't quite reach her eyes but was better than nothing. “Don't you remember the rules?”
“You didn't tell me them.”
“But I told you that you'll figure 'em out along the way.” Taivon used his free hand to pull her away from the car before opening the door once more. “Now, get in.”
“Wha-”
“How am I supposed to be a gentleman when you don't even let me open the door for you?”
“But you already opened it for me,” she tried to protest, but by the look of amusement on his face, he would have none of it.
“Once isn't enough.”
Feeling her body warm at the deeper, suggestive note, Alix did as he said and got back into the car. He secured the door behind her as soon as she sat down and then opened it for her once again. Like before, she stepped out onto the pavement of the parking lot, his hand grasping hers the whole way.
“Wasn't that better?” Taivon asked as they walked to the small restaurant.
“Quite a shock, actually.” When he rasied an eyebrow at her, she blurted, “Not that it wasn't nice, because it was. But it's just that I'm not really...uhm, used to it, I guess you could say. And-”
“Honey,” that hint of Southern accent all but melted Alix into a puddle right then and there at the front door of Acquerello, “I think you've been seeing the wrong type of men.”
A short waiter smiled at them, ending their line of conversation. He asked how many were in their party and then led them to the corner of the busy, classic restaurant where a clean table awaited them. Taivon pulled out her chair – a move she most certainly should have expected – and she sat down.
He went to the other side, removing his jacket along the way. When it was finally off, he hung it on the back of his chair, and the sight of his wide shoulders and muscled body made Alix's mouth water. He wore a black polo shirt that hugged his body perfectily. It was tucked into the waist of his jeans where his belt buckle hugged his hips.
Tucked in shirts were not supposed to be sexy. They weren't even supposed to be attractive. That was just a common thing that everybody knew, men included, but it seemed as if the laws of fashion did not apply to this man tonight. No, Taivon owned the tucked in, neat, and bashful look.
“And for you, miss?” their waiter asked, an expectant look on his face.
“I'm sorry,” she said. “What was that?”
“To drink?”
“Oh...uh...” She said the first thing that came to mind, “A glass of Coke would be great. Thanks.”
“Okay.” The waiter smiled. “I'll be right back with your drinks, and in the meantime, look over the menu. I recommend the chicken alfredo. Our chef cooks the noodles just so...”
Alix tuned out the rest of what he had to say and began to fiddle with the smooth edges of the menu. As she scanned through the menu, deciding what to get, Alix felt a familiar gaze on her and looked up to see Taivon's brown eyes searching hers. Their waiter must have left, for they were the only ones in this corner of the restaurant, spare for a family and couple here and there.
Looking behind her, Alix tried to figure out just what he was staring at so intently. From the looks of it, he was looking at her, but it wasn't the sort of warm look she'd seen before. No, right now, he was serious, his face a pillar of stone as he sat stock still in his chair.
“What?” she finally asked.
“Just curious.”
“About what?”
He smiled and looked at the patterns that could be seen through her gauzy shirt. “Your tattoos.”
Disappointment welled up inside of her, but Alix tried not to show it. Most people saw her for the ink on her body and not for what she truly was. They judged her by the patterns, by the color and the linework, not what she was inside. She didn't regret them, though. She never would.
“Oh,” Alix tried to inflect a little brightness into her voice, “they're-”
“I think they're beautiful. Like a work of art. Permanent and intricate.”
Those were the last words she'd expected Taivon to say. The disappointment evaporated from her system almost immediately. He saw through her body art, and soon enough, Alix knew, he'd see through more of her.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice so soft she barely recognized it.
Reaching across the table, he grasped her hand in his and held it in the center, his thumb playing with the skin of her hand. She more than liked the way his coarse skin rubbed against hers, the way in which his large hand easily engulfed hers.
“Do you have any?” Alix asked, moments later.
“Yeah.”
“How many?”
“How many do you think I have?”
Alix didn't even have to ask. The small quirk of his lips told her everything she needed to know. He was the sort of person to get tattoos for a cause, or a meaning, or something. His tattoo wouldn't be a wild animal or some cheesy quote, but rather a specific symbol. “One?”
His smiled got a little wider, and his thumb brushed against her hand in lazy circles. “You're good.”
“What's it of?”
“My last name.” Taivon lifted his eyes away from her hand and up to hers. “You wanna see?”
“Depends on where it is,” Alix said, feeling a pull of want low inside her belly.
“Where do you think it is?”
“Uhm...” She gulped and let her eyes roam over the broad expanse of his body. She checked his arms again. Nothing but tanned skin. His neck was the same, the muscles of his neck showing his strength. “Maybe upper arm? Lower calf? Chest?”
“You are good.”
“Which one was it?”
He took his hand away from hers and rolled up the tight sleeve of his buttoned polo shirt. More of that smooth-looking, tanned skin was revealed to her, the bumps and ridges of his upper arm muscles looking sculpted. When he had the sleeve all the way rolled up, the stark black letters of CANTRELL looked back at her with their sharp contrast.
“See? 'Cantrell', right there. Me and my brothers got it all at the same time, sorta like a pact, ya know? My ma and dad had almost skinned our hides, though. Tobias, my littlest brother, was only fourteen when he got his, and Thrane had his entire left arm tattooed. Almost got kicked outta school.”
She leaned forward to trace the one word with the tip of her finger, smiling as the sound of his soft inhale hit her ears. “It's so...simple.”
“That's sorta how I like things.”
“You don't seem simple, though.”
“That's 'cause I'm not. Nobody is.” His breath fanned over her face before he leaned back, looking up at their waiter.
“Are you ready to order?” Will, Alix read from his name tag, asked and set down their drinks.
Taivon nodded his head her way, a silent gesture that she should order first. Scanning through the menu once more, Alix made sure that the chicken alfredo wasn't too pricey and then ordered the dish. Taivon ordered a few moments later, getting a salad with grilled chicken.
After Will left, he pulled out his phone, typed a few things in, and then put it away, grabbing her hand again in the next instant. “Let's get to know each other a little better.”
“What do you wanna know?”
“Everything.” The words were simply put, like this was a simple question that had simple answers. Like he truly did want to know everything.
“Why don't you go first? Tell me something about yourself.”
“How 'bout I ask the question, and we both answer it. That sound good?”
Question after question erupted from his mouth then, ranging from childhood pets to debates on religion. She told him about her family's old German shepherds, Hinestrom and Angus, and he told her about his family's old collie, Bolt. Her family was Lutheran, and his family was Catholic. He'd been salutatorian in his class; she'd almost gotten kicked out. He'd only drank during his summer breaks in high school, but Alix told him, trying to hide a smile on her face, that she was still addicted to a certain substance.
Taivon didn't even flinch; he just asked, “What is it?”
“Well,” Alix said, looking down to grasp onto his hand a little bit more tightly, “I had and still do have this unhealthy addiction to macaroni salad. Especially the stuff with chicken, mayo, bacon pieces, and cheese.”
And then it happened. Taivon's eyes lit up with pure, unadulterated joy, and his little half-smile split into a grin so wide Alix didn't know what to say. His straight, white teeth were bared to her, shining in the warm restaurant light, and he looked so happy and so carefree that she had to pinch her leg to make sure she wasn't dreaming all this up.
But that wasn't all.
A loud, booming laugh flew past his lips. She'd never heard more than the occasional chuckle from him; had never seen more than that little half-smile, and now, here he was, grinning from ear to ear while laughing so hard his face was beginning to turn red.
“Oh, my God,” he said on a heavy gasp before taking his hand from hers and wiping a stray tear from his eye. “It's been so long since...since I've actually laughed like that. Thank you.”
“Now I know how to make you laugh, so thank you.” Alix smiled.
He reclaimed her hand almost immediately. “So now the question is: how do I make you laugh?”
“Anything will work.”
“C'mon, sweetheart, ya gotta narrow it down some for me.”
She thought back to his book of rules, squeezed his hand, and chuckled. “So, is it just hand holding on the third date, or is there something more?”
“Can't tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want to impress you, and if I tell you what's coming, then I can't impress you because you'll be expecting so much more than what I can usually deliver.”
“For some reason, I doubt that. You seem like the type to never disappoint.”
His eyes heated. “You just might find out tonight.”