Blind Date(50)

I hang up the phone, and my eyes move up Ace's body until they meet his.

"You still talking to that dick?"

I bite my lip to force back a laugh. Ace doesn't miss it, and those gorgeous eyes roll up to the ceiling. "It's not fuckin' funny. You could just answer me instead of laughing."

"You're so moody," I giggle softly, stepping past him and walking into his apartment. "Honestly, Ace, who cares who I talk to?"

He doesn't answer, he just locks the door. "Whatever makes you happy."

I laugh again and walk over, taking a seat at his kitchen counter, staring over at him when he walks in and asks, "Have you eaten?"

"No, not yet. I thought maybe we could order something."

He cocks a brow. "That so?"

"Yeah, big guy," I say, crossing my arms. "That's so."

He seems amused by my comment. He doesn't react to it, but I can see it in his eyes, the way they dance. It's nice to see him lighten up a little. He's always so serious. 

"What do you want?" he asks, pulling out a heap of menus he has in a little menu holder by the wall. "Pizza, pasta, Chinese, Indian … "

Jesus.

"I'm a fan of Indian food," I say, gauging his reaction. "Or Chinese. Or food, in general."

He nods and flicks the Chinese and Indian menus towards me. "Here, pick one. I'm going to have a shower, I just got back from the gym."

The thought of Ace in the shower, all that water, and that body  …  has my cheeks going pink. He doesn't say anything, but I don't miss his eyes scanning briefly over my warm cheeks before he turns and disappears down the hall. "Order something," he calls out.

Right.

Bossy.

I go with Indian and order a few different dishes and some rice. The woman on the other line snaps at me that it'll be half an hour, and then hangs up without even a good bye. Well, unless the food is fantastic I won't be ordering from there again. I stand once I'm done, and move into Ace's living room, checking everything out. There are no pictures that I can see, which just sparks my curiosity even more.

I walk back into the kitchen and towards the sink, when I notice a picture on his laptop. A gorgeous blonde fills the screen, her beautiful smiling face lighting it up in a way I've never seen before. She has something about her, something fresh and beautiful. Her eyes are bright, and as blue as the sky, but mostly they're warm. She looks like a loving lady, the best kind. My heart aches for Ace.

Obviously that's his wife.

I can see why he loved her, she's absolutely beautiful.

I get myself some water, and send a text to Taylor while I wait for Ace to finish. A knock at the door about ten minutes later has my head whipping up. Jesus, that was the fastest Indian food I've ever ordered. I glance down the hall. The shower has only just stopped, so I'm guessing Ace will be another few minutes. Shrugging, I walk over and unlock it, opening it to find  …  nobody.

I poke my head out and glance left and right. There is no one there. I'm about to close the door when I look down and see some bags of food placed by the door. How rude. They could have at least waited until we opened the door. What if it was the wrong apartment? I reach for the food but stop, hand outstretched, when I realize it's not Indian food.

My heart launches into my mouth, and for a moment I'm frozen there, half bent down to get the food. It takes me a few seconds to gather myself enough to pick up the bag with shaky hands and step back inside the apartment. I lock the door and walk numbly to the kitchen. "Food here already?" Ace asks, but I can't answer him.

I just stare at the bag.

I already know what will be inside. Two orders of cashew chicken. One of fried rice. It was Raymond's and my favorite meal. We used to get it every Friday night, without fail, and we'd sit and eat it while watching reruns of Grey's Anatomy. My hands shake, and the bag kind of plonks down onto the kitchen counter.

"Hartley?"

"I didn't order this, Ace," I whisper. "But I know who did … "

Ace moves quickly, walking over and snatching the bag from the counter, jerking it open and staring inside. He comes up with a note, and quickly unfolds it. He reads it out loud, but most of it falls on deaf ears. I can already see it's in Ray's handwriting, and I already know what it'll say. Raymond used to send me food all the time if he was working late, and knew he couldn't be here.

I'm sure you've had a stressful week and will enjoy your favorite.



Love, R x

"I'm making a call," Ace says. "Sit tight."


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