With Jayden, it’s not just about feeling desired. It’s about feeling truly seen, valued, understood. As if he’s attracted to my mind just as much as my body, perhaps even more.
I can’t stop smiling, possibilities dancing in my mind. This could be the beginning of something life-changing.
“Thank you for tonight,” I say, squeezing Jayden’s hand. “It was perfect. You showed me a part of myself I’ve never shared before.”
He smiles back. “The magic has only just begun.”
Chapter 43
Dylan
Ispendhalfanhour perfecting my makeup and choosing an outfit that’s casual yet elegant: fitted black jeans, sky-high heels, and a silky top that shows a hint of cleavage.
When I check my phone for the address Noah texted and pull it up on my phone’s map, my heart skips a beat. A professional kitchen? What is he planning now?
I arrive at the industrial space, inhaling the aroma of spices and garlic.
Noah turns from a counter laden with vegetables and grins at me, holding up two chef’s aprons. “I bet you were expecting roses and champagne from me. But surprise! We’re making dinner tonight.”
“Cooking, huh?” I laugh, warmth flooding my cheeks. I’m actually shocked by this turn of events. Noah comes across as the more predictable one of the group, and I definitely pictured him arranging some more conventional champagne and roses kind of date. “You’re surprisingly full of surprises.”
“And you’re overdressed,” he says, his eyes dancing over my outfit. “Absolutely stunning, but overdressed nonetheless.”
I shrug out of my jacket, acutely aware of his gaze following my every move. “But we can fix that very soon.”
He knots an apron around my waist, his fingers brushing against my hips.
I suck in a breath, heat pooling low in my belly.
When his hands linger, I look up to find his eyes dark with desire.
“Are we really here to cook?” I ask softly.
“We’ll get to the food eventually.” Noah pulls me close, one hand tangling in my hair. “But first, I owe you an apology for how I acted about this whole dating thing. I didn’t mean to upset you, or to make you feel pressured.” He runs a hand down my arm, causing goosebumps to appear.
I go still, stunned by his admission. An apology is the last thing I expected. “It’s okay,” I say automatically. “We’re all trying to figure this out. It’s… complicated. I never expected to feel this way either.”
“It’s not okay.” Noah cups my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. And I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you into something you don’t want. I’d never wish that upon you. Because I know how that feels, and you deserve better.”
My throat tightens at the earnestness in his voice. After years of struggling to fit in, to be accepted, his words mean everything. “Thank you,” I whisper.
Noah’s eyes soften. “You’re welcome. That all said, I’m stoked to spend some one-on-one time with you tonight. Now, are you ready to cook something unforgettable with me?”
I smile, warmth flooding my cheeks for an entirely different reason. “Absolutely.”
Maybe tonight will hold more surprises than I ever imagined. And maybe, just maybe, Noah and I are cooking up something far more lasting than dinner.
Noah pulls out ingredients for larb and sticky rice, launching into an explanation of Laotian cuisine as we get to work. He tells fascinating stories about his visit to the country, including a crazy tale where he tubed down a river lined with bars where you could pull up in your tube to grab another beer, and then continue on.
His passion for cooking rivals his intensity on the pitch, and I find myself caught up in his enthusiasm.
We chop and stir, trading playful banter and laughs along the way.
When Noah challenges me to a chopping contest, competitiveness flares. “Think you’ve got the skills to beat me?” he asks with a cocky grin.
I grab a knife, determination burning in my veins. After years of striving to prove myself, I never back down from a challenge. “I grew up watchingYan Can Cookand ads for Ginsu knives on TV. Chopping is my jam. You’re about to be schooled, pretty boy.”
We race to chop vegetables, Noah nudging me with his hip and bumping up the tempo of Laotian pop music blasting from his phone.