The waitress returned with the bill, and David and Amarava both reached for it. His fingers brushed hers, sending a pang of desire through her. She found herself looking at his hands, imagining how they would feel on her skin. They were large and strong, with long, slender fingers and short, clean nails. She could picture them touching her face, her neck, her thigh . . .
“Oh, no,” he said, breaking the spell. “None of this modern woman stuff, please. My father told me if I ever took a woman out and made her pay he would disinherit me, and I have my heart set on his record collection.”
Amarava burst out laughing. “Well, I certainly don’t want to deprive you of your inheritance.”
They walked out together, exchanging numbers and checking each other’s online profiles on their phones. His featured his photography, as well as other people’s work and countless images of anime characters.
“You’re really into fashion,” he remarked.
“You’re really into cartoons,” she countered.
“Hhayi, it’s not cartoons!” he cried. “It’s anime. Totally different.”
She giggled. “Sorry.” All too soon they were standing in front of the Mini, and Amarava wished she could press rewind. It was the best date she had been on in a long, long time . . . possibly the best date ever.
David’s tone grew serious. “So how does this work? Can I see you again, or is it up to Angelique?”
She smiled, suddenly feeling shy, and looked down at her shoes. The shiny leather looked reddish brown in the streetlights. “It’s up to me.”
“Oh, good.” He inched forward, then stepped back, looking uncertain.
They were standing very close to each other. She looked up into his eyes, neither of them speaking. Amarava got the feeling he wanted to kiss her, and if he had tried she might have let him. But he didn’t. Her stomach churned with longing and anxiety, and, as if picking up on it, David stepped back.
“I really had fun,” he admitted, his tone playful once again. “Would you mind if I stalked you online?”
She laughed. “I think I’ll survive.”
He waited until she pulled out of the parking lot and waved before he made his way to his own car.
Amarava found herself giggling uncontrollably like a teenager, her pulse racing at the thought of the way their hands had touched. When she got home, she was still smiling.
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