Don't Mess it Up
1119 Words
Alyssa
The restaurant was like something out of a dream.
Warm light pooled from the overhead sconces, the walls draped in ivy and wood accents, candles flickering between wine glasses. It was romantic but not forced. Intimate without feeling staged. It felt like they’d stumbled into a secret corner of the world where the rest of the city couldn’t reach them.
Cole held out her chair like he’d been doing it his whole life.
“You always this smooth?” Alyssa teased as she settled in.
He smirked. “Only on nights I feel lucky.”
“Oh, so... just Tuesdays then?”
That earned a low laugh, warm and gravelly. “Depends on the company.”
Alyssa tried not to grin too hard. She failed. He was charming, dangerously so, but so far never in that slick, sleazy way she’d trained herself to sniff out. His attention felt deliberate and true.
Their waiter appeared, rattled off the specials, and left them to their menus. Cole didn’t even glance at his.
“You already know what you want?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I came for the company. The food’s a bonus.”
Alyssa rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed anyway.
They talked easily, about books, movies, the weirdest thing they’d ever eaten (he’d once tried fried scorpion in Thailand; she’d accidentally eaten eel thinking it was pasta). Every answer from him came with that dry, teasing wit. Every smile she gave was met with one just a little softer, a little slower.
The wine flowed and so did the laughter.
And somewhere between the shared dessert and her second glass, Alyssa forgot to be guarded.
She leaned in across the table, grinning. “Okay, your turn, worst date you’ve ever been on?”
Cole hummed, eyes thoughtful. “It’s a tie between the girl who brought her cat in her purse and the one who tried to sell me essential oils halfway through dinner.”
Alyssa nearly choked on her drink. “No.”
“Oh yes. The cat stared at me the whole time. I felt so judged.”
She giggled, swiping a napkin across her lips. “God, you’re so weird.”
“And yet here you are.”
The moment hovered. Just long enough to settle into something quiet. Their eyes met, his dark and unreadable, and so intense.
It made her heart stutter.
“I’m glad I came,” she said, voice softer now.
“So am I.” She said shyly as she brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear.
Cole
He could feel her as they walked out of the restaurant.
That soft shift in her energy. That slow build of anticipation as they left the restaurant and stepped into the cool night air.
Cole offered his arm again. Alyssa looped hers through it without hesitation.
The walk was slow and quiet. Their footsteps echoed over wet pavement. Somewhere, faintly, a jazz trio played from a rooftop bar. A saxophone curled through the mist like a spell.
She shivered once.
Without a word, he slipped off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
“Chivalry’s not dead,” she murmured.
“No, but it gets lonely,” he said, voice low.
She laughed again, softer this time. Like she didn’t want to break the mood.
They reached the truck all too fast.
They had a nice light conversation on the way back to Alyssa's place.
She got out of the truck walking up to the door she paused, looking up at him. “You want to come in for a bit? Just to talk.”
He hesitated, but only for a second. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Inside, the apartment smelled like her. Warm and intoxicating, the vanilla and honey smell he was beginning to constantly crave.
She dropped the keys on the counter and kicked off her shoes. He followed, standing awkwardly in the entry until she turned and looked up at him with that smile again.
She stepped closer.
“So,” she said, voice playful, “are you always this polite?
Cole arched his brow. “You want me to be less polite?”
She smirked. “I didn’t say that.”
Their bodies were close now. Inches.
He reached out, brushing her hair behind one ear.
Her breath caught.
And then, finally, they closed the distance.
The kiss was slow at first, testing, tasting. Her lips parted against his, warm and eager, and his hand slid up her side to her waist, pulling her closer.
She pressed into him, her fingers curling into his shirt, her body molding against his like they were two pieces of something ancient and meant to fit.
He deepened the kiss, just a little. Let the hunger bleed in. Let her feel how badly he wanted her.
Her hands were on his chest now, sliding upward. Exploring. Inviting.
Cole backed her toward the wall without breaking the kiss, one arm braced beside her head, the other skimming down to the curve of her hip.
She gasped into his mouth when he tilted her chin slightly, changing the angle, kissing her deeper.
It was fire.
It was reckless.
It was everything he’d been denying himself since the night he first saw her.
Her hands fisted in his shirt, her body arching toward him.
He groaned low in his throat.
And then, he pulled away.
Breathing hard, he leaned his forehead against hers, chest rising and falling like he’d just sprinted a mile.
“I can’t,” he whispered.
Alyssa blinked up at him, dazed and breathless. “Did I... do something wrong?”
He shook his head quickly, his hand brushing her cheek. “No. God, no. You’re perfect.”
“Then why?”
“Because this...” He gestured between them. “This means too much. And I don’t want to mess it up by rushing.”
Alyssa stared at him, her lips swollen, her eyes wide. And then she nodded slowly.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, softer than before.
Relief washed through him.
He smiled, just a little and kissed her once more on the forehead.
“I should go,” he said. “Before I stop caring about taking it slow.”
She nodded again, still breathless. “Okay.”
He stepped back, running a hand through his hair like it could shake off the heat still humming under his skin.
At the door, he looked back. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” she echoed.
The door shut softly behind him, leaving her with nothing but the sound of her heartbeat and the ghost of his kiss still burning on her lips.
- Writer
