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Anton Page 13
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“Will you go on a date with me?” he asked.
At first, I hoped the date would be in his bedroom five minutes later. But then I realized he was serious. Anton’s got an inner wolf, I’m sure of that. But he’s also patient and a gentleman. I don’t know if the burn of wanting and waiting is as delicious for him as it is for me, but damn…I hope so.
I can tell what he wants by the way he looks at me with fire in his eyes. The way he stands as close as he can possibly get without touching me. The way he speaks into my ear in a low tone, his breath warm against my skin.
His patience is sexy, but I still enjoy testing it. For our date, I splurged on a V-neck black dress with an open back and a pair of strappy heels. I plan to curl my hair, paint my nails red and break out the free sample of an expensive perfume I picked up at a department store.
Dre and I cover lots of ground—we window shop, hit up story time at the library and play at a local indoor playground. By the time I put him down for a nap at 2:00 p.m., I need one, too.
I’m woken up two hours later by the sound of the front door being unlocked. Anita walks in, a bag of groceries in her arms.
“How was he?” she asks me.
“Great. We had fun.” I sit up on the couch and yawn. “I need to shower.”
“I’m making beef stroganoff for dinner if you want to eat a little something to calm your nerves,” she offers.
“Thanks.”
It’s been a while since I had an occasion to dress up. It takes me almost an hour and a half to get completely ready. When I finally emerge from the bathroom and walk into the kitchen, Anita gives me a huge smile.
“You look great, Mia.”
Dre looks up from the picture he’s coloring at the kitchen table.
“You a fox,” he tells me.
I laugh as Anita scolds him—probably not the best idea, but I can’t help it. We saw someone say that on a TV show recently and now Dre won’t stop repeating it.
I pace around the small apartment, nervous for no good reason. This is Anton. I already know him well. He’s pretty much become my best friend in the past five months. Why am I so nervous?
I think it’s because we have each other on very tall pedestals. We’re both completely smitten with the idea of us, but will the reality live up?
When Anton looks at me, I feel like the most beautiful woman in the world to him. Like I’m the only woman he has eyes for. It makes me feel warm and bubbly inside.
Will he still look at me that way after we’ve kissed? After we’ve slept together? I’ll be crushed if he doesn’t.
I sit down on the couch with my phone and text him.
Me: What if the fantasy of me is better than the reality?
Anton: It’s not.
Me: But what if it is? What if you kiss me and I taste like sardines or slobber all over your mouth?
Anton: I’ve got breath mints and a handkerchief, chief.
Me: Wait, why are you texting me right now? Aren’t you driving?
Anton: I’m parked outside your building. Got here early.
Me: Okay, be right out.
Anton: No. I’m coming to the door. I was just waiting ‘til six in case you weren’t ready yet.
Me: Been ready for a few months now…