She let go of the door as a smile replaced her surprise.
Exactly as I hoped.
“Yes…I’d love to.”
* * *
I took her by the hand and guided her to the table the hostess was leading us to. We took our seats, got our menus, and then we were alone together again.
It was the first time we’d eaten together in public.
It was basically our first date—our first real date.
She held her menu open between her hands, but she kept sneaking glances at me.
I didn’t look at my menu at all, far more interested in looking at her. She didn’t look different at all. Not a single thing had changed. I expected to spot the melancholy in her eyes, but that didn’t exist. Perhaps when she was with me, she actually felt some form of happiness.
At least I hoped.
She looked down at her menu again, a smile on her lips.
I missed that smile. “You’re just as beautiful as I remember.”
A blush filled her cheeks. “Thanks…”
I glanced at my menu, picked something decent, and set my menu aside. I rested my elbows on the table and leaned close to her, wanting there to be as little distance as possible.
She closed her menu and set it to the side.
“What are you having?”
“Some pasta. I just picked something.”
“Me too.” I felt the corners of my lips pull into a smile.
The waiter came over, and judging by the way he stared at Adelina so intently, he recognized her. “Uh, what can I get for you?”
We ordered and handed our menus over.
The waiter stared again, his eyes narrowing as he remembered exactly where he’d seen her face before.
“Is there a problem?” I kept my voice low, but my coldness was unmistakable.
“No…not at all.” He walked away, leaving us alone again.
Adelina dropped her smile at the encounter.
I reached my hand across the table, and I held hers. I should keep my affection to a minimum, but I couldn’t. Now that I had her so close, I couldn’t restrain myself. I missed her like crazy. I missed her even more now that I was directly across from her.
Her hand latched on to mine immediately, like she’d been hoping for the affection.
We ignored the basket of bread on the table and stared at each other. Just like the silent conversations we had over the phone, we were doing the same now. It was full of the same intensity, the same longing.
She never asked why I was there.
I didn’t feel the need to explain.
We just savored each other’s company in the crowded room, ignoring the inappropriate stares directed our way. People were casting judgments on both of us. She was holding hands with a man at least five years older than her. She was already seeing someone after what she’d been through? I wanted to be with a woman that had been trafficked? A million thoughts were going through their minds.
But they didn’t know us. No one did.
The only two people who truly understood were she and I.
* * *
We walked into her little house, and she showed me the living room and small kitchen. “It’s not much, but it’s perfect for me.”
“I like it.” It had a single sofa, a small TV, and a tiny bathroom. For a woman like Adelina, someone who didn’t need much, it was perfect. “Very nice.” I stood with my hands in my pockets so I wouldn’t immediately reach out and grab her by the hips. So far, it seemed to be going well. She smiled when she looked at me, held my hand on the car ride home, and now she gave me the same look of longing I gave her.
Just like in the restaurant, it was tense all over again.
She still hadn’t asked me why I was there. It made me wonder if she didn’t care. Maybe she was just so happy to see me that it didn’t matter.
I stepped closer to her until I’d officially crossed an invisible line into her private space. My hands left my pockets, and my neck craned toward her. I looked down at her lips, desperate to kiss her.
Her lips parted slightly.
That was the invitation I needed. My hand slid into her hair, and I leaned in, moving until I felt her lips against mine. I kissed her with purposeful slowness, doing my best to keep it soft. I couldn’t devour her immediately. This had to be gentle, not rushed.
She kissed me back immediately, her arm wrapped around my neck. She rose on her tiptoes to get better access to my mouth. She kissed me harder, a moan of desperation escaping her lips. Her hand wrapped around my wrist as my hand remained buried in her hair.
She was the one who kissed me harder.
Deeper.
Faster.
I couldn’t set the pace anymore. I wanted to keep it slow and soft, but she wanted a lot more than that. So I let it be…and kissed her exactly the way she wanted to be kissed.