17. Crave, Elevator Pitch (Hapless In Love #1)

17. Crave

crave

Greyson

Manhattan, NY | November 12, 2023

Are you home?

Selah

I’m always at home lol

What’re you up to?

Have you eaten? I just got home and was about to order dinner, but I thought of you.

Selah

You stopped ordering dinner because you thought of me? Are you saying you want me or something edible? Lol

With a chuckle, I ponder on how to respond. It’s refreshing to see a glimpse of her bolder side, and I’m enjoying it. I remember her kiss and how her lips tasted. I’ve craved her ever since.

Trust me, you are edible. I was talking about food though, dirty girl. ;)

Would you like to have dinner at my place? I know it’s short notice.

Selah

Sure you were lol

I’d like that. What are we watching?

Anything you want. I’m ordering Chinese food.

Any requests?

Selah

Chicken fried rice and fried wontons.

With egg, please?

I think I’m ready for eggs again.

I‘ve been avoiding them for a few weeks.

What have eggs done to you?

Selah

Unspeakable things.

I take a moment to put in our order. It will be here in thirty minutes, allowing me time to mentally prepare for her visit. I can’t believe she agreed to have dinner with me. It was worth the shot.

Well, now I’m intrigued.

Apt 12D

Be here in 20.

Selah

See you in a few. :)

Scanning my apartment, I quickly grab a vacuum to tidy up. I wince. I’ve been traveling a lot, and my place has seen better days. It’s important that I impress her and I hope that a clean apartment and a candle is a good start. I hastily clean until my doorbell rings. As much as I’d love to see her on the other side of it, my smile falters when I open the door and see the food delivery driver instead.

Moments after, the doorbell chimes and my stomach drops, knowing Selah is on the other side of it. I answer the door with an exhale, and there she stands. Dark, long curls frame her face, and a shy smile graces her full lips.

“Hi,” she says nervously.

“Hey,” I say as I lean on the doorframe, taking her in.

She’s in a hoodie and jeans, staring up at me. I regain my focus when she clears her throat. “Are you going to let me in?”

“Only if you promise to tell me about your phobia of eggs,” I tease.

She chuckles. “Fine. I’ll tell you.”

My smile widens as I invite her in, closing the door behind us. Clifford excitedly jumps off the couch to greet our guest. She crouches down to give him her full attention, and he basks in it. I can’t help but smile at them.

“Could you take off your shoes?” I ask.

“Of course,” she says, taking a seat on the stool in my entryway.

She unzips her boots and meets me in the kitchen wearing socks with pink polka dots, grabbing a seat at the island. I ask what she’d like to drink, and she’d like water. She’s quiet while her coffee brown eyes study me as I prepare her plate. I’m enveloped in her alluring scent when I approach, setting the bowl of rice and a glass of ice water in front of her. She thanks me with a soft smile, and I invite her to join me on the couch for a movie.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she sings, following me to the living room.

She sits at a respectful distance, grabs a coaster for her glass and relaxes on the sofa. I turn on the TV, and when I hand over the remote, she doesn’t take it. I glance over to find her eyes searching the room and halt on my record player. I watch as she observes my displayed vinyl, lips parting as if she spotted something she likes.

“Hmm. I’m impressed by your collection over there,” she says.

“When we finish eating, I’ll show you just how good that collection is. If you set your food down, Clifford will inhale it in three seconds.” He lifts his head at the sound of his name. “I can guarantee you’ll want to dance with me.”

“Hmm. You sound confident, Greyson.”

“Is that a problem?”

She cackles and leans in close, enveloping me in her alluring scent. I bite my lip, returning her gaze, and curiosity lingers in her stare.

“Pick the right song, and I will,” she adds playfully.

“Challenge accepted.”

Laughter and easy conversation fill the rest of the night. After washing my hands, I forgot to roll my sleeves down, and her eyes light up at the sight of the tattoo sleeve on my right arm. It’s realism work, adorned with various flowers, cameras, and film. I share the inspiration behind it, leaving out how I got it after Aileen and I split. I didn’t ask for much in the divorce, but I wanted our wedding camera. We couldn’t afford a photographer when we eloped, so she found a vintage camera at the thrift store for us to take turns snapping pictures throughout the day. I fell in love with the fact that a memory lives forever if you photograph it. Whether there’s a good or bad memory behind it, someone can capture the moment with a photo and pass it on for generations. I started collecting cameras and photography eventually became a hobby.

We exchange stories, and what she refers to as the egg incident comes up. As embarrassing as it was, she couldn’t stop laughing while trying to tell the story. Then there’s two of us laughing uncontrollably. She’s moved closer to me on the couch since we started watching a show centered on people bringing their partners to the States to get married. I’ve never seen it before now, but I’m intrigued. When the show ends, I look at my watch, and it’s getting late.

“I know we’ve got work in the morning,” I say reluctantly.

She shrugs her shoulders and says, “I don’t get a lot of sleep, so I don’t mind. Plus, aren’t you supposed to find a song to convince me to dance with you? You guaranteed it. I’m waiting.”

I nod. “You are right. Let me get to work.”

I stride over to my record player and shuffle through my vinyl, seeking the perfect song to get her to dance with me. After a few moments, a purple cover catches my eye, and I smile to myself as I retrieve it from the storage rack. I keep it from her line of sight, hoping to surprise her. I remove Smokey Robinson’s Where There’s Smoke... record and set it on the slip mat—carefully moving the needle to play Crusin , a sure-fire track to get her to dance with me before she heads home.

I turn the player on and grin at the crackling before the song starts. I let the intro fill the space before I face her, an amused look on her face. Aware of my obvious victory, I reach my hand out for her to join me. She chuckles as she stands, taking my hand and I lead her to my kitchen, where we slow dance. She avoids eye contact and can’t stop blushing. Her beauty is remarkable, and I can’t take my eyes off her. It's intoxicating when she eventually meets my gaze, but it doesn’t last long because she shifts her focus to my lips.

“Selah?”

“Hmm?” she asks, not taking her eyes off my mouth.

“I really want to kiss you.”

“Then do it,” she breathes.

I stifle a laugh, in fear of ruining the moment.

You don’t have to tell me twice.

I take her lips in a gentle kiss that grows more desperate by the second. She parts her lips, granting me entry, and I devour her. Soft moans escape her, encouraging me to continue, and I do. Kissing her is dangerous and addictive. I forget to breathe, eager to indulge in all that is her. She sucks on my lip, and I groan in response. If she asked, I would gladly take her to my room. I slow the kiss down to take a breath, and that’s enough time for clarity to sink in. I part my lips to speak, and she beats me to it.

“I-I should get home. You know, work in the morning,” she pants.

She walks over to the entryway to grab her boots. I take a second to process what she said as she sits on the stool to slip them on. I nod, understandably.

“Uh-yeah. I’ll walk you.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s just an elevator ride,” she says with a nervous chuckle as she stands.

“I’m not letting my date walk home alone. Even if you live downstairs,” I say, grabbing my keys.

“Alright. If you say so, but no seducing,” she adds with a pointed finger, biting back her smile.

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” I assure as I open the door and we step into the hall. I kept my word and walked her home. Once I get back to my place, I’m getting ready for bed when my phone chimes with a text. It’s from Selah.

Selah

Smokey? Really?

You knew exactly what you were doing.

Well played lol

Don’t be like that.

You challenged me.

I was simply proving you wrong.

Selah

Men aren’t supposed to be right.

Didn’t you know?

It’s my first time being right.

Go easy on me.

Goodnight, Selah. ;)

Selah

Just this once.

Goodnight. :)

I’ve read a few romances she’s recommended, and I think this is what they call a slow burn. I can wait. The fire will be rewarding.

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