I stare into his eyes. "I'm drunk on you."
He kisses the tip of my nose. "You're just drunk."
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Play yourself down."
He shakes his head and then turns to hail a cab.
I watch him as he opens my door, waits for me to slide inside before he gets in after me, the way he presses his knee on mine, and just before the cab pulls in front of Nick's building, I say it again. "I really am drunk on you."
He leans close and kisses me, his reply too low for anyone to hear but me. "Sometimes I feel like I'm drunk on you, and I haven't even had a drop of alcohol."
The butterflies in my belly swarmed with delight.
Maybe . . . just maybe . . . I'm not the only one falling.
Tess
THE LOBBY IS luxurious, the elevator equally so, with lots of stainless steel and dark wood, it catches your eye. The light inside the car is dim, and makes everything look softer than it really is. The door closes, and Nick backs me up against the mirrored wall. I can see myself in the ceiling and over his shoulder.
"Did you get my text?" he asks, looking down at me.
I shake my head. "I haven't looked at my phone since I left my apartment to meet Fiona. What does it say?"
"Read it," he says, and then drops his mouth to my neck.
I could argue and tell him it would be faster if just told me, but instead I play along and pull my phone from my tiny purse.
His hands are now roaming my body, never lingering in one spot for too long.
Glancing down, I open the text and read it aloud, "I have something for you."
Nick grins against my skin and then stands straight where he proceeds to pull an envelope from his coat pocket.
"What is it?
"Open it and find out."
I eye it suspiciously. Shake it. Turn it upside. "Can't be another box of lubricant."
Nick pinches my side. "Very funny."
I giggle a little, and then run my fingers under the sealed flap. I peer inside to see folded sheets of paper. Just then the door opens to Nick's place. I step out of the elevator at the same I pull the papers out.
There are two sheets, stapled. I move to the center of the foyer and stand beneath the crystal chandelier. I scan the first page. It is a bunch of numbers indicating his cholesterol level, weight, BMI, and blood type. These are test results from a physical.
Confused, I glance over to the edge of the stairs where Nick has already stepped down and turned toward me with his hands in his pockets. "You appear to be in very good health. Do you want me to be your baby momma or something?"
His eyes flip up. "You're quite the comedian tonight. Try turning the page," he directs me.
My eyes widen and a tiny gasp of surprise eeks out of me. "Oh," I say as I read the labels beside the test results on this page. "Gonorrhea, chlamydia, HIV. All negative."
"I thought it would make you feel better."
I reach back and take one shoe off. "About what?"
"Us."
I take the other shoe off and set them both down. "I'm not sure what you mean."
But I do.
For the second time tonight, I watch the arrogant, confident man, struggle to find the right words. This time though, it really is funny. "Tess, I never asked if you were on the pill or some method of birth control."
I drop my jacket to the ground and slink toward him with the papers still in hand. "You want to stop using condoms."
He shrugs. "Well . . . yeah."
I stop at the edge of the step, but don't step down, this way I can remain taller than him. "As a matter of fact," I tell him, cocking my hip, "I'm on the pill."
He grins. "Good."
"Not good," I say, holding up the papers. "These results need to be discussed."
His smile fades.
"Look at your BMI, it's much lower than mine, something needs to be done about that, and your cholesterol is way too low. Oh, and don't even get me started on your weight-" I can't go on, because I'm laughing so hard.
Nick grabs me and hauls me over his shoulder, lightly tapping my bottom as he strides across the living room. "You are seriously going to pay for that, woman."
I wiggle and giggle all the way to the table just outside his bedroom, where he flops me down on top of it to empty his wallet and keys from his pocket.
While he does that, I set the papers down and strip my top off and then make a move for his belt.
His eyes flare with heat. "What are you doing?"
I push his jacket off. "That should be pretty obvious. Getting you naked."