Things felt nice already, and I relaxed as we walked into the kitchen. She held a box out to me, and I set it on the counter without looking, my focus on her. Loren looked around, and I took the opportunity to check her out more. She'd worn jeans and a sweater, and I liked how relaxed she looked. When she turned, I looked away, pretending to check on dinner. The smile I caught let me know I hadn't been as sly as I hoped. Making a few adjustments, I returned my focus to Loren.
"Would you like any wine? I got both red and white since I didn't know which you prefer."
"Oh, that was nice of you. Either is good with me, whichever goes best with the meal," she adorably rambled, her face tinting. "I'll trust the chef."
"White it is then. I'll be right back with it."
Grabbing the glasses and the bottle I had chilling, I poured the wine into our glasses and lifted it up. Smiling, we clinked our glasses together, a bout of nerves flooding me at the implications of what this dinner could mean. Before, we'd just been neighbors hanging out together, but tonight, we were Loren and Monroe, two people on a date. It both excited and terrified me.
"I like your apron," she giggled before taking a sip of her wine.
Looking down, I realized I'd grabbed the apron Levi had gotten me last year. Aprons are just capes on backwards.
"Ah, thanks. Levi got it for me," I chuckled. "I started learning how to cook after we separated, and I try to make it fun so Levi can learn. I never really had that growing up and didn't realize how inept I was until I was responsible for making something other than ramen."
"Well, I could probably learn a few tips. I'm a disaster in the kitchen. Coffee is about the only thing I can do, and that's black."
Loren's cringe face was about as adorable as her smile, and I realized how much I looked forward to knowing all of her faces. Dating was scary in some aspects, but it was exciting in others. Learning about a new person and getting to know and understand what made them who they were invigorated me.
"I think that could be arranged."
"Where is Levi? I thought he was going to be here?"
"Oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you. He had a sleepover, so it's just us tonight. Let me go and grab the food. It should be done now. I ended up making fettuccine alfredo, so hopefully, you like that."
"It sounds wonderful, thanks, Monroe."
Heading back into the kitchen, I exhaled, the butterflies overwhelming me, the grin on my face beginning to feel like a permagrin. I plated the food and carried it back out to the table, glad to have something to focus on. Hitting the playlist on my phone, the soft tunes started to roll through the speakers helping to set the mood.
"I like this. It's soothing. What, or who, is it?"
"Oh, it's an Italian pianist, Ludovico Einaudi. It seemed appropriate. When eating Italian, listen to Italian musicians."
Loren giggled, the sound pure and erotic, hitting me simultaneously in the heart and dick. We started eating, both of us hiding our smiles between bites. The sound of our forks hitting our bowls and the music playing around us filled the apartment. It didn't feel awkward, though, both of us enjoying the food. When we finished, she placed her fork down, turning more toward me.
"Mmm. This was wonderful, Monroe. Thank you so much for cooking for me. I don't think I've ever had someone do it before," she admitted.
"It's my pleasure." I grinned. Wiping my mouth, I placed my napkin on the table, turning toward her more as well. "So, I know the basics about you. Your job, you're divorced, and you volunteer at Ignite. What else makes Loren, Loren?" I couldn't stop the smile that wanted to spread at my corny joke,
"Oh well, I'm pretty boring, actually." She blushed. Each time I got one, it made me only want more. She pushed her hair behind her ear before continuing. "I grew up in Glenview and was a high school cheerleader who married her high school boyfriend. I moved to the city after college and worked, and then at some point, my marriage didn't work. And now, I'm here."
Her voice had gone quiet at the end, and I realized the grenade I'd launched at her. Quickly, I tried to fill the silence. "Hmm, cheerleader. I don't see it," I joked. "I played on the hockey team, as I think Levi told you. I was kind of a weird loner kid, though, so it didn't help my social status."
"Oh, I find that hard to believe," she chuckled, taking a sip of wine. "Well, actually, I take that back. That first time we talked in the elevator was pretty awkward."
Feigning shock, I said, "I'm offended. That was some great chit-chat, some of my finest."
"Then I feel sorry for you."
"Ouch, that hurts, Loren, and here I cooked for you and everything."
"You're right, you're right. This meal was delicious, so I guess I can excuse any awkward small talk. I mean, does anyone sound cool in an elevator?"
"No, I guess they don't," I agreed.
"Okay, so now that we got the awkward part out of the way, maybe we could move on to the not awkward part."
"Yeah, sure. What part is that?"