Chosen by the Fates

As First Dates Go

Aisling~

I bite at my lower lip, still blushing from the awkward exchange that just occurred inside the coffee shop. My wrist burns uncomfortably where Ashleigh grabbed me, and I find myself rubbing it self-consciously. A part of me is thankful Sol stepped in, but another part of me feels drawn curiously to the strangeness of it all. 

How is it these apparently famous music stars end up at my weird little quiet coffee shop confusing me for someone they are looking for?  I feel confident in the fact that no one dressed like that would ever be looking for me. I work in produce at a small local grocery store, and I have no ties to any elite socialites anywhere in existence. 

Sol is watching me quietly as he guides me to his vehicle. It is a sensibly modeled four wheel drive for the northern climate, but the subtle branding on the grill indicates just how expensive it truly is. His vehicle has already been started, headlights reflecting off the fresh snowfall. He steps in close to open the passenger side for me. I become acutely aware of the warmth of his body in contrast to the cold winter air. My mind mulls over our ruined coffee meet up. I find myself feeling bad about it.

I pause before getting in the vehicle, taking a moment to study his quiet gaze. "I'm sorry about whatever that was..." I'm not even sure what to apologize for, I just know the whole exchange inside was simultaneously embarrassing and uncomfortable for me. 

He studies me, and at this distance I can see that his pupils have adjusted to my proximity, giving the appearance of darkening his eyes. He almost sounds worried as he speaks, "It appears to have an unusual mix up..." His eyes lower, as if to my lips. I shift in place, a poor distraction from the fluttering of my heart.

A question burns in my thoughts. "Did you recognize them?" 

His eyes return to mine. "I did not." Then he reaches out a gloved hand, carefully brushing a lock of my hair from my eyes, tucking it behind an ear. "But-" He continues, "I also do not follow such people closely." Snowflakes settle on his lashes before melting. The dim lighting against sparkling frost and snow is a breathtaking frame for his features, distracting my mind from any further conversation on the matter.

I nod, although I don't feel what happened is truly settled as I get into his vehicle. 

He closes the door behind me, then brushes the fresh snow from the windows. I close my eyes, focusing on the familiar sounds in the solitude of the vehicle. My wrist still burns, and my mind goes back to how the man that grabbed me, Ashleigh, had been searching my eyes. Why would he look at someone he doesn't know that way?

When Sol finishes and finally joins me, the heater blows his intoxicating scent toward me. My heart hammers, my wild imagination laying siege to my mind. My eyes snap open. 

Sol is studying me again, "What would Milady like to eat?"

I snort-laugh at that, "Milady?"

Sol smirks, "Yes?"

I return his smirk with a genuine smile, "I like most things, what would the gentleman recommend?"

Sol's smirk spans into a warm smile back, "I think I have just the thing. How does Thai sound?"

"That sounds great." As if understanding the conversation, my stomach grumbles. I hug my stomach, blushing brightly. 

Sol regards my stomach with another smirk. Looking to me, he gives me a mockingly solemn expression, "It is settled then." We both laugh, which eases the tension a little. But soon my mind is churning again.

The drive into the city is quiet. I am still self-conscious, both because of the way Sol's proximity affects my body and mind, as well as about what happened at the coffee shop. My mind spins between both until we have arrived at the Thai restaurant. 

Outside the building looks like a massive warehouse. However, when a valet takes our vehicle I get the hint things are different than they appear. Never judge a book by its cover. But even that thought doesn't prepare me for stepping through the front doors. 

The interior of the restaurant is like stepping into a whole different world. There is a massive central fountain filled with Koi and actual living lotus blossoms. The water from the fountain circulates in an elaborate indoor stream system throughout the restaurant. There are traditionally styled bridges spanning the small waterways. Orchids, paper lanterns, and twinkling lights fill the rafters of an enormously vaulted ceiling.  

"Wow." The sound of my voice is breathless as I look all around us in wonder. It may be winter outside, but in here it is a tropical paradise. There is a podium at the front, and the host is dressed in a uniform that is almost like a tux, but with elaborately modern Persian design elements. Specials are posted, ornately framed on a pillar near the entrance. Everyone here is dressed to impress. And I am not. 

I fidget in place, glancing at Sol. He approaches the podium with the polite smile of a man who is used to coordinating with others. "Two, for 9pm under the name Gentry." 

"Ahh, I see you and the lady-" The host glances my way, "are a bit early, Sir? Would you like to have a seat at the bar while we get a table ready for you?"

Sol bows his head appreciatively, "I would be grateful."

The host bows in return, then gestures in the direction of the bar. 

Before entering, a gorgeous young woman offers to take our coats. Sol helps me out of mine. I find myself worrying about my store brand sweater dress, opaque stockings and boots when standing beside the hostess in her sparkling and seemingly runway fashion-inspired cocktail dress. 

When Sol removes his coat, I see he is wearing a rich plumb colored button up tucked into dark slacks. His outfit is complete with a silk handkerchief tucked into his breast pocket, and silver moon shaped cufflinks. His dress shirt is tight everywhere it should be, accentuating his muscles. Yep. I am definitely underdressed.   

Sol steps close to me, and his scent settles my nerves. The hostess leads us back to the bar before offering a half bow and departing. I continue to take everything in, still awestruck. The bar spans one entire length of the massive building. It looks as though every expensive looking liqueur bottle known to man is housed on shelves along the wall there. The kitchen can be seen through built-in waterfalls behind the bar.

Sol approaches with comfortable ease, leaning on one elbow beside the bar stool I choose. "What would you like to drink?" It takes me a moment to register his voice, I'm still feeling overwhelmed by my surroundings. 

"Something sour and fruity?" I ask softly, my eyes still wandering the menu.

"You heard the lady." Sol's voice is filled with amusement. 

The bartender nods with a winning grin, "I'm sure I can come up with something." 

"And I'll have something non-alcoholic. I am driving." 

My eyes are drawn to Sol at his request, appraising how thoughtful and responsible it is. As if he can feel the weight of my thoughts, Sol's eyes find mine. My breath catches as he holds my gaze. His eyes are the darkest blue I've ever seen.  

"I've never been anywhere like this in my life." My voice is soft, and I study every feature of his face, resisting the urge to let my eyes trail down his neck and lower still... God is he gorgeous.

A smile pulls at Sol's lips. "This place is invite only, built from and created for old money." Sol glances up from me as our drinks arrive, sliding mine to me. I am careful to avoid his touch. At this proximity it is a fight to keep my mind off his body, and some small part of me warns that even the slightest touch could make it infinitely more difficult.

"Are you sure I am dressed okay?" I tug at the bottom of my sweater dress, glancing around. 

I jump as a surge of electricity overwhelms my senses. All I can feel is the warmth of his hand gently grasping my chin and the skin on skin contact is sending the sensation of sparks flying through my nervous system. He tilts my face up and back to look at his. His baritone is a purr, "You are perfect." 

I feel as though I've just been struck by lightning. Everything around us has been silenced by my mind, and all I can see is the deep blue expanse of his gaze. He shifts, closing the distance between us just enough that I can feel heat from the entire length of his body. My stomach twists into knots, heat gathers between my legs, and my heart hammers. My lips part as if I mean to speak, but I can't think.

His thumb gently traces my jaw, an electric prickle trailing after sends shivers down the sensitive areas of my neck and spine. His gaze is intense. As my body gives way to the confusing rush and pull of everything that is him, I finally understand what it means to be lost in someone's eyes.

"Mr. Gentry, your table is ready." The voice sounds distant, but when Sol lowers his hand away from my chin the noise of our surroundings comes crashing back to my awareness. The return to my senses is jarring. His eyes linger. "Perfect, thank you." His voice is low. He clears his throat and turns to follow the waitress. I definitely feel less than graceful as I try not to stumble after, still remembering how my limbs are supposed to move.

***

Sol~

I am in awe of this woman. The men in the coffee shop obviously felt entitled to address her in the manner they did, and she managed the interaction with them respectfully despite that. Having handled my family's accounts for the last century and a half, I have worked with my fair share of the rich and famous. I could practically smell the arrogance of it on them even without my wolf. 

New money. To creatures who live for centuries, most everyone is new money anymore. I scoff internally. Self-serving, with no long term plans for technologies or industries that would actually better their communities or societies as a whole. 

Yet here, in this small northern corner of the world, this woman faced them as an equal. Gracefully navigating around their attempt to push her around. I admire her for it, and for her willingness to help strangers. However I also find myself worried. The interaction was unusual, and in my experience individuals like that rarely give up on their pursuits. How much they will try to take from her through her offer?

As I open the passenger-side door for her, she pauses. My mind empties as my entire body feels pulled to the heat of hers. I take a slow, deep breath to steady myself. Everything about being near her is an excruciating exercise in self-control. One I have never experienced in my long life. 

My wolf whines within me, pushing me to seek the warmth I feel from her body. To press myself against her to feel the thrum of her heart, and the rhythm of her breathing. To bury my face in the soft hair at the curve of her neck and breathe her in.  

"I'm sorry about whatever that was..." Her voice sounds distant at first as I attempt to collect my thoughts. I realize her tone conveys her embarrassment, and It dawns on me that she feels somehow to blame. I suppress a growl. That's the worst part of interacting with entitled individuals. It has left her feeling like she was the one in the wrong somehow. As if they weren't the ones pushing at her boundaries. 

I speak carefully, when I am able to without a growl or any trace of anger in my voice, "It appears to have an unusual mix up..."

My anger at them, the desire to protect her, and my need swirl in a confusing maelstrom of emotion. My eyes are drawn to how she is biting unconsciously at her lower lip. I take another long, slow breath.  

Her calm voice helps center me, "Did you recognize them?" 

"I did not." As I look up, I see her loose hair has fallen in front of her beautiful eyes. I am unable to resist her pull. I reach out, carefully brushing the lock of her hair back to tuck it behind an ear. "But-" I pause, slowly focusing on my breathing. "-I also do not follow such people closely." 

Snowflakes settle on her lashes before melting. I have to consciously exert effort to resist the urge to move even closer or touch her more. Even in the snow storm her scent swirls around me with every gust of wind. Everything about her draws me in, and all I can think about is what her skin might feel like under my lips, her mouth against mine. 

When she gets in the car, I feel as though I am a hostage released. A sigh escapes me. I close the door behind her. After grabbing my ice scraper from the trunk, I have a few minutes by myself in the cold and away from her intoxicating scent to re-center. How in the fates am I supposed to give her the space she needs to fully realize our connection for herself, while also battling my wolf?

I toss the scraper in the boot of the car, and tug my leather gloves off to shove them in my jacket pockets. I run a hand through my hair in frustration. If she had just been a wolf, she would know what this is. I close my eyes and take in one final, long breath of cold air before getting in the vehicle.

When I ask about food, I am excited to discover she doesn't have any preferences for food. There is a Thai place in this city that is invite only, and run by another pack. It is the perfect place to reset this night, and take her mind off the coffee shop exchange. As an artist, I suspect she will love how much attention to detail the pack put into the atmosphere. I smile to myself as I take us there. My wolf seems to have quieted since being surrounded by her scent in the vehicle, which I am thankful for.

On arrival I carefully watch her face as we step into the restaurant. Her eyes widen in awe, taking it all in. I enjoy every minute of walking her through the building. The way she looks at everything, as if intent to memorize every detail. She sniffs at the air, just as my wolf would, taking in the scent of the orchids. We are directed to the bar as our table prepared.

As we move to the bar I notice her self-consciously tugging a little at the sweater dress she is wearing. She is beautiful, and looks perfect for tonight. While there are many wealthy patrons decked out in the latest fashions, there are wolves among the clientele who prefer not to stand out, and are often dressed in subtler attire. I can't just tell her that. I sigh, and order us drinks, hoping to take her mind off it. 

"I've never been anywhere like this in my life." Her soft voice draws my eyes back to hers. She is examining me as if amidst the beauty all around her, she only sees me. The weight of her gaze stirs my wolf, who has been quiet since the drive.  

My wolf and I both like the attention. I smile, holding her gaze as I study every color variation of her irises.  "This place is invite only, built from and created for old money." Only when our drinks arrive do I spare a glance away to take them with a polite nod to the bar tender. 

I notice her carefully avoiding my hand when I slide her drink to her. My wolf is acutely aware of her body responding to mine, even at this distance. When she finally voices her concerns about whether she should have dressed up more, her voice is soft and self-conscious. Her eyes drift from mine to follow another patron dressed for a night on the town, and my wolf surges forward.  

Before I realize it, I've reached for her chin. Every part of me wants her to know she fits in anywhere I would bring her, that she can trust me, and that she doesn't have to look like anyone else. I never want her to be more worried about what others think than our time together.

The resulting surge of electricity from the skin on skin contact overwhelms my wolf and all of my senses. I realize physically what my wolf has been informing me of all along. Every part of her is made for every part of me. As I tilt her face back up to mine, her eyes follow. My senses are in overdrive, as if my wolf and I are one, even though I haven't shifted. Her heartbeat, her breathing, the heat building in her, is all matched within me.

My wolf purrs, and the sound is carried in my own timber in unison, "You are perfect." 

Every one of my senses is attuned to her, and her alone. All I see is her endless gaze. I let the pull of her draw me in, unable to resist any part of her while still touching her. I feel the heat and curves of her body press against every part of me, and my body responds accordingly. Her lips part, drawing my eyes down to the motion. Every curve of her lips entangles my thoughts...Just one kiss...  

I gently trace the length of her jaw, fighting to keep myself under control. My wolf takes in every nuance of her scent at such close proximity. The familiar tones of sage, lilac, honey, and vanilla envelope me. I lower my lips toward hers, knowing that one kiss could be my entire undoing. 

"Mr. Gentry, your table is ready." The voice crashes through my awareness, louder than it should be, jarring. My hand releases her chin. My wolf growls and I blink slowly. I take a breath, watching her expression. It would be best to wait until she and I can talk more... intimately. I shouldn't take any liberties with what I sense from her body. I know that. 

I absolutely cannot afford skin on skin contact again until she and I are on closer terms. Terms where we can talk about this... My voice is softer than I intend as I continue to study the woman before me. "Perfect, thank you." I clear my throat and my mind for the time being. 

Mate. My wolf's urges reverberate through me as I turn away. I take a deep breath and follow the waitress. 

I am beginning to realize I am in entirely over my head for the first time in centuries.

***

Aisling ~ 

I feel like I've been returned to the most embarrassing version of my high school self imaginable. My entire body is overheating in my sweater dress, and the heat between my legs won't go away. I can't make eye contact with Sol without my imagination running wild and I quickly glance away reflexively as if worried he might somehow see what might thoughts are doing. I can't bear to look into beautiful, dark eyes again. He seems entirely in his element and comfortable. Somehow this place, and his touch were enough to fracture every part of my usual confidence, yet everything he does is filled with calm secure grace. 

How am I supposed to even get through tonight? Why would he even ask someone like me here, when this is clearly the type of world he is used to? My imagination latches on to that thought, weaving uncomfortable images of what it would be like to kiss him in equal measure to how much better he would look with one of the women surrounding us. 

As if he can sense the war within me, Sol is quiet. Typically on a date, I would consider it good if we are talking and laughing like old friends. This whole experience is unbearable for me. I don't even realize how long I've been staring into my water glass until the waitress asks if we are ready to order. I've totally forgotten to even look at the menu. Sol sees my panicked expression, and politely asks for more time.

"I'm so sorry. I-just. I lose track of time easily..." It sounds like an excuse, even to me. 

"No trouble." He smiles, and I keep my eyes on his lips. Even that's enough for my imagination to run amok. 

I smile nervously and quickly glance over the menu. There aren't any prices. I really should have expected that. Most of the meat dishes look as if they are made with things that tend to be more expensive, so I reason that the simplest vegetarian dish I can find is probably the most reasonably priced. 

Sol watches me for a long moment before speaking, and his tone is gentler than I've heard before. "You know, my favorite dish here is the King crab special. I rarely have the opportunity to order it because it's made for two. Would you be willing to split it with me? My treat."

Surprised, I meet his gaze, my imagination silenced for just a moment by my more practical side. King Crab has to be one of the most expensive things on the menu. Not only that, in one sentence he has alleviated many of my worries, and reminded me that I am his date. Someone like me. Not to mention I love King Crab and rarely can afford to eat it. 

"Are you sure?" My voice is small, to match what is left of my sense of self at the moment.

"Yes." His baritone is solid, and reassuring. His eye contact is unwavering, tugging at my imagination. 

I find myself blushing and smiling at the same time. "Thank you."

"No. Thank you. I haven't had the dish in at least a few years." He laughs, and the sound settles all of my nerves, helping me to forget how awkward I've been feeling. I'm just not in familiar territory. It doesn't mean I'm not worthy. I take a deep breath. My whole life has been a reminder of how hard just making ends meet can be, it's hard to imagine that the world can exist any differently for others.

And here Sol is, wanting to share a little of his world and experience with me. What was someone like Sol doing at that coffee shop? 

Over the course of dinner, and the night, Sol begins to share stories from living and working in the city. It seems he's a sort of investor, and financial manager for his family. In fact, this restaurant was one of his investment projects, which is why he's on the invitation list. He asks politely about me, but without prying. It's as if he is graciously aware of how different my own life is, and he's giving me the freedom to share what I am comfortable with, without embarrassing me or putting me on the spot. I appreciate it.

I tend to be an open book, and compulsively honest. So I always feel more comfortable with people who don't pry with their questions. He is overly generous in sharing the King Crab with me, taking the time to show me the best way to eat it. And over dessert we even exchange bites of it, laughing. 

Somehow the most awkward date ever, that I never would have expected, has become one of the best. 

When it's time to go, he helps me out of my seat, and into my coat at the door. He opens every door without hesitation, and with the grace of a man who is used to doing such things for others. My eyes follow his every move. 

When we are finally back at the coffee shop I am so caught up in the warmth of his mannerisms that I've almost forgotten the gravity of his body and scent.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. The time flew by, and it's time to get into my car and go home.

"I'll wait here while you start your car, you can wait in mine while yours warms up." He smiles brightly. 

My heart flutters and I nod, "That would be so awesome. Thank you."

I get out of his car and my phone buzzes. It's Tiffa checking in on me, its 10 pm. Where did the time go? I get into my car, starting it. Then I quickly text her that I'm on my way shortly. When I go to get out of the car, I see Sol with his ice scraper, already clearing my windows. 

"You are impossibly helpful." I laugh, unable to contain my surprise. I've never had a date be this perfect.

"I hope that's a desirable trait for you." He winks at me, and for the first time I feel totally at ease with his flirting.

"So tell me..." I bend down and scoop up fresh snow in my gloved hands, "... do inner city financial managers ever learn the fine art of snow warfare?"

"The fine art of wh-" He turns to look over his shoulder as I send the snowball hurtling at his body. His eyes widen, a playful grin dancing across his mouth. 

We spend the next several minutes dashing around both of our cars in the empty parking lot, exchanging lobbed snowballs at one another. I run out of breath first, doubled over laughing. "Truce! Truce! You clearly have learned from the best." My voice is breathless, and I can still hear the laughter in his own voice. "You held your own quite well."

He finishes brushing off my car, although it is clearly warm enough now that the snow is melting off the windshield.

"I have to get home." I smile, the final bits of awkward discomfort chased away by the normalcy of the playful exchange. He nods, keeping the distance between us. "Of course. Let me know when you are home safely?"

I nod, agreeing. "I will."

He smiles, waving before heading back to his vehicle. As I go to get in my car, I think I see him stop for a second. I stop, hoping he'll turn and ask me out again. I don't want to go. I want to see him again. Every party of me agonizes over the moment. But he continues on to his vehicle. I sigh and sit down in mine, closing the door. When I look up again, he is watching me. We exchange one last smile and I head home first. 

An echo of my awkward self resurfaces. The smallest voice at the back of my thoughts draws my attention. He didn't ask to see me again. He didn't even ask for a kiss.