Deeper

2. What’s Next?

I woke up to the comforting weight of strong arms wrapped tightly around me. For a moment, I just lay there, eyes still closed, breathing him in — that warm, masculine scent that somehow made the world outside fade away. I’d forgotten what it felt like to wake up next to someone. To not wake up alone.

One of his hands had slipped under my shirt during the night, resting gently on the small of my back, holding me closer to his body. The other was curled around my waist, his fingers lightly brushing my skin as I breathed. He was pressed so close, his breath warm and steady against my neck, sending soft waves of electricity down my spine.

I shifted slightly, snuggling closer to his chest, when his voice broke the silence.

“Morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?” His voice was low and rough, the kind of morning voice that made butterflies flutter in my stomach.

Still in his arms, I tilted my head up to meet his eyes. “Morning. Yeah, I did. Thanks,” I said, my lips curving into a shy smile.

Realizing he was still holding me, he loosened his grip with a sheepish grin and sat up, ruffling his hair as he climbed out of bed. The sudden loss of his warmth left me feeling cold.

He glanced back at me, still lying there wrapped in the sheets. “I’ll give you a moment to change. Meet me in the kitchen when you're ready?” he said, stepping toward the door and leaving it slightly ajar behind him.

I stayed in bed for a few more seconds before the door creaked open again. Josh peeked in and handed me a neatly folded set of clothes.

“Here. Thought you might want something clean,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before retreating again.

I smiled to myself, dragging myself out of bed and heading for the bathroom. I changed quickly and tried to tame my hair when the door opened again, and Josh leaned against the frame with a half-smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey... would it be okay if I took you home after breakfast, then picked you up again tonight? This time, I want to do it properly. A real date. Only if you're interested,” he said, eyes trailing down my frame — not in a way that made me uncomfortable, but like he was genuinely taking me in.

“I’d like that,” I said softly, handing him the shirt I’d set aside.

He took it from my hands, his fingers brushing mine, slow and gentle, before stepping aside so I could walk past. As I moved into the hallway, a delicious smell drifted from the kitchen — buttery toast, eggs, maybe even cheese and tomato?

Following the scent, I found a simple but sweet breakfast waiting on the counter. Toasted bread stacked neatly, eggs still warm on the plates, cheese melting just slightly, tomatoes sliced thin. The casual effort made me smile.

We ate quietly, exchanging the occasional glance, soft smiles. No pressure, no rush.

Afterward, I helped him clear the table and rinse the dishes. It felt strangely... domestic. Easy.

We drove to my apartment on Ave Street in comfortable silence, and when we got there, Josh walked me to my door. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek before stepping back.

“I’ll see you at seven?” he asked.

“Seven,” I nodded, slipping inside.

Once alone, I turned on the kettle and made myself a sweet, dark-chocolate Milo. After finishing the warm drink, I showered, brushed my teeth, and changed into clean clothes. I curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket with a tub of ice cream and a bar of chocolate, flipping on *Arrow* on Netflix.

Oliver Queen. My weakness. But come on — who doesn’t have a crush on that man?

Mid-binge, I remembered my phone. I dug it out of my bag and saw two messages from Lisa and one from Josh.

Lisa’s first:

**“Hey girl, sorry about last night. It was fun going out with you though! I know I disappeared — everything just happened so fast.”**

Then her second:

**“Also… sorry you had to witness me getting totally railed. XOXO 😬”**

I laughed quietly and shook my head. Classic Lisa. At least she was safe.

Then I opened Josh’s message:

**“Hey beautiful, I’ll be picking you up at 7 tonight. Also… sorry if I crossed a line. Hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”**

I smiled, typing back quickly:

**“You didn’t. Not even close. I’ll be ready by 7. Should I pack a sleepover bag this time?”**

I hit send, heart doing that weird fluttery thing.

Later in the afternoon, I took a short nap, waking around five. Two hours to get ready, but I wasn’t the kind of girl who liked to rush. I ate a light snack and went to my wardrobe.

I chose a red velvet silk dress with matching heels. My hair, I styled in a loose flower braid, with the rest curled slightly — a soft mix of beach waves and elegance. For makeup, I kept it natural, just enough to enhance without transforming.

I checked myself in the mirror, feeling satisfied.

Then my phone buzzed.

Josh:

**“I think that’s a good idea. I won’t mind stealing a beauty like you for another night.”**

Blushing, I packed a small overnight bag — perfume, a cute nightgown, my toothbrush, fresh underwear, jeans, a fitted top, my favorite cowgirl boots, and socks.

Just as I zipped up the bag and turned toward the living room, a knock echoed at the door.