SAM
Part of me feels guilty for missing Erin and Noah's original song debut, but since I heard it often during their rehearsals, I felt I could skip it. My biggest hope is that the clubgoers receive it with open arms because Erin needs the encouragement to share her talent. Since we were children, she kept notebooks around with poems, and I'm sure the one she always has in her purse is full with great songs waiting to be heard.
Marisol and I are having our second official date at the apartment tonight, and I've been looking forward to it. We see each other often, but not exactly under the ideal circumstances or completely by ourselves. I stop by her chocolate shop in the morning on my way to the club, but people come in and out while picking gifts before starting their day, or she's busy on the phone making purchases and we barely can talk. Then whenever she can, she comes around lunch time to the club to eat something, but besides a hello and a goodbye, the food orders don't allow me to spend time with her. Also, her father had a minor stroke and she's been to check on him for the past two weekends. We talk on the phone and text often, but I'm always left wishing it was just us.
So finally, my wish came true and until Erin comes home it will be Marisol and I. Not knowing what will happen tonight has me slightly anxious. Erin believes that I went to bed with Marisol after our first date, but besides a heavy make out session, nothing else happened. I did spend the night at her house because we drank a bottle of wine together and she felt it wasn't responsible for me to drive. The doorbell rings and my heart warms at her sight as always.
"Come in," I hold her hand while cupping her chin to kiss her.
"Alone at last. Can't believe it took us this long to have a second date," she laughs and looks around the apartment. "You've got a beautiful place here!"
"It's all Erin's work. I wouldn't even know where to begin when it comes to decorating. I let her do whatever she wants and I just live here."
"She's welcome to come to my place and do something to make it pretty. I put a lot of effort to decorate the shop, but as you saw, my apartment is still as plain as when I got it. Have you heard anything from her about the song debut?"
"Nothing yet, but I have no doubt it will be a success. You know, they have been rehearsing in the basement of the club non-stop, yet this afternoon, during a quiet moment, I heard them playing it once more and got a knot in my throat. Suddenly her words seemed to touch me and I'm not exactly a sentimental guy. I'm also trying new things," I invite her to sit on the couch.
"And what are those?"
"Getting out of my comfort zone for starters. I'm letting Claire take the lead sometimes and she's doing a fantastic job. It's freed time for me to experiment with new recipes or to mentor some of the sous-chefs. Her experiences have opened my eyes to see what I find meaningful as a chef. I love food and find cooking a very satisfactory experience, but I feel that way because the memories I have of cooking with Gretchen Sommer. She would let me take charge of food at the bed and breakfast sometimes. When you think about it, that's a big deal. She trusted a high school teen with caring for her guests. She also had the patience to teach me new things all the time. When I went to cooking school, it gave me an advantage."
"I hope I get to meet the Sommers one day. I have a lot to thank them for."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know your parents, and you don't talk much about them either, but I believe the Sommers made you the man you are today."
"My parents are fine when they are around. They are hard workers and really good at what they do. I guess they figured too late that raising a child and combining it with a career on the road wasn't exactly what they wanted. They love me, I've never doubted that, but they are committed to their careers. At times, they would tour with different artists and won't even see each other for months at a time."
"Can't say I envy them. Living out of a suitcase and moving from place to place doesn't appeal to me. And what else are you trying?"
"Getting out of the house and talking to people. It's something I've never been good at. I envy the way you chat with everyone. I feel awkward most of the time and my mind just goes blank trying to find a conversation topic. So I went to a bookshop and instead of browsing like I always do, I went straight to the guy at the register and asked for book recommendations. He looked a bit like Adam, is also smart like him, and was a great resource. I'm also trying my hand at sweet talking the pretty girl at the chocolate shop."
"Are you?" She raises an eyebrow in a way that I have to think of a list of ingredients before the blood in my brain rushes to a different part of my body.
"I feel comfortable with you... And happy. You laugh at my awful jokes and we don't seem to run out of topics to talk about, mostly thanks to you. I was freaking out before our first date, worrying about saying something stupid and ruining things. You are still around so I guess I'm doing okay."
"Sam, you are the most wonderful man I've ever dated. You are thoughtful and kind. I might be the one ruining things with what I'm about to say, but I have deep feelings for you. I know it sounds nuts because since we met, we have barely spent time together physically. But our conversations have been enough for me to develop how I feel."
"Deep feelings, like love?"
"Like love, yes."
A deep breath leaves my lips. "I feel the same."
Marisol places her hands at my nape and brings me closer to her to kiss. It feels different somehow, like I have the right to kiss her like this, like we belong to each other.
"Best second date ever," she says and it makes me laugh.
My stomach makes a rumbling sound. I ate something at work during a break but it appears it wasn't enough. "Are you hungry?" I ask her. "I could eat something."
"Sure. Do you want to order something and have it delivered?"
"Or we can cook something. Maybe test one of the new recipes I want to add to the club menu."
Marisol reacts with an enthusiastic nod and helps me to find the necessary ingredients to make a hearty pasta dish. We turn the radio on and sing out loud and out of tune with the latest hits while we roll, stuff and bread meatballs.
"I think this will go well with dinner. Can you still call it dinner at ten in the evening?" I show her a bottle of wine and she nods in approval.
"I don't mind what we call it. I don't believe food should have specific times."
"The woman after my own heart. When we started the club, I wanted to offer breakfast for dinner. Adam didn't like my idea."
"I only know him when he comes to shop. Is he that... The only word I can come up without sounding rude is strict."
"Adam is quite formal outside of his family and us. He needs he has to prove to everyone that he's professional and business-savvy. Whoever doesn't know him well might even think he's a dick, but that's far from the truth. Erin was a popular girl in high school in Lonstino and Adam was completely awkward and a loner. He's still like that to some extent, and that strict or formal façade is a sort of alter ego, but under all that he has a heart of gold and is the best friend you can wish for."
The meatballs have turned a golden brown, indicating our food is ready. After plating the pasta and adding the meatballs, we grab the bottle of wine and seat on the couch. This meal is definitely worth adding to our menu.
"You can wake me up for this anytime," Marisol says after placing her empty plate on the coffee table and rubbing her stomach. "You can even serve this as an appetizer without the pasta. Wine is delicious, but this with a cold one. Mmm... Let me help you with the dishes before I lick mine clean."
At the club, I have staff that takes care of cleaning everything and realize that my experiments at home don't come with that perk. So I accept her offer and we manage to have everything clean in no time while continuing to enjoy the wine we opened earlier. Marisol leans with her back against the counter and stares at me.
"What?" I ask while laughing nervously.
"I can see myself doing this often," she places the glass on the counter, walks to me and places her arms around my waist, which I reciprocate. "Maybe it's the wine talking, but I do."
"I don't think it's the wine. We can do this whenever you want or can."
She places her head on my chest and I enjoy the warm feeling it gives me.
"Your heart is racing," she says.
"My heart, my mind, everything is at this moment."
Just like at her apartment, Marisol and I engage in a heavy make out session. Only this time, we don't shuffle towards the couch.
"Where's your bedroom?" She whispers.
"That way," I point weakly towards my room.
Marisol guides me and stopsat the door. The dimmed lamps give my bedroom a romantic and peaceful glow. Inudge her softly to make her lie on my bed and spend a good time caressing herbody while kissing her. My hands move over her hips and then under her thicksweater where I caress her waist and breasts. I felt no rush until her teethgrazes my bottom lip. She smiles at my reaction and her hands tangle in mycurls as she comes closer to my ear and nibbles on my lobe. In no time, ourclothes lay on the floor next to the bed. Marisol is beautiful and withoutclothes, is a goddess. Making love with her turns to be the most wonderfulexperience. One I hope we can continue for the rest of our lives.