Out of Focus (Love in LA #3)

“Yes, tell me about Mr. Southern Boy. What’s he like?” she asks curiously, no doubt hoping for some juicy details. You’d expect just about anyone to deliver that line with a smile, but not Charlie. Seeing one of her smiles is like seeing a shooting star. It’s a rare and kind of magical thing.

“Well,” I begin, “he’s been at Aegis for a year, loves to surf, and has a big fluffy dog who goes everywhere with him.”

“Sounds like a catch,” she quips. “Did you write his Tinder profile for him?”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise before I burst out laughing. Even Charlie can’t resist cracking a smile, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she settles back into her chair.

20/

so… so naked!

charlie

It sounds like Rafael actually put some thought into setting me up with Zach. As he talked about the man I’m about to go on a date with, several thoughts ran through my mind.

Wow, I can’t believe he actually chose someone who sounds so great.

Why are you surprised? He’s nice, remember?

I wonder if Zach dates a lot and if he’s expecting anything from tonight.

It’s been a couple of years since I’ve gone on a date. Do I still remember what to do?

“Do you think Zach’s expecting me to sleep with him?” The next question in my brain comes out of my mouth, but he takes it in stride.

“Who the fuck cares what his expectations are? You—and only you—get to make that decision, red.” His shiny, chocolate eyes focus on me, and then he swallows. “Is that… is that what you want?”

I shake my head. “No. It’s not.”

Wait. It’s not?

“I mean, I don’t know. I haven’t even met the guy. But I’m not planning on sleeping with him. I’m also not planning on not sleeping with him.” Maeve was very encouraging when I mentioned I was going on a date and reminded me to make sure to pack a condom or two in my bag. I already have them in there, in a zipped compartment so they don’t accidentally fall out if I drop my bag, or something. I want to be prepared, but I also want to know I can trust the person I’m with, and that’s not happening after one date.

“Right. Yeah. Makes sense.” Rafael swallows again. “So, he’s taking you to an Italian place tonight. It’s the one Elaina and Adam always talk about, Bella’s. Want to take a look at their menu?” He passes me his phone, with the menu already on the screen.

It’s thoughtful, this small action. He’s looking out for me and making sure I don’t get overwhelmed like I did in the coffee shop. I briefly wonder if it wouldn’t be better to just go on this date with Rafael instead of Zach, but I shake that idea out of my head before it can take root. When I take his phone, he stands and walks to the balcony doors, looking out at the sunny view below.

I make my three selections, picking two desserts, just in case, and take a look at their wine list, though I probably won’t drink anything tonight.

Rafael is outside, arms leaning on the railing, and I realize he’s left me in here alone. With his unlocked phone. It feels like a monumental thing. I have access to all of his conversations with this device. And he’s not even looking back to see if I’m scrolling through anything.

I walk out to stand next to him and hand him the device. “You weren’t worried I’d go through your messages or photos?”

Rather than taking the phone back, he turns his body toward mine and chuckles. “Go ahead.”

I scowl, picturing a series of flirty texts and pictures of all the beautiful women he dates. “No, thanks. I’d rather not know what your flavor-of -the-week texts you or how many pictures of boobs are in your camera roll.”

He laughs again. Nothing rocks this guy. “No flavor-of-the-week. Or of the month, even. And my camera roll is mostly pictures of my family, food, and my cat.”

“You have a cat?” I shriek in shock. “How did I not know this?”

He laughs again.

“I do. She’s very temperamental, so when I can get pictures of her, I take like a hundred. I think she hates me though. She always wants to be alone.” He sighs, seeming genuinely upset by the possibility. “I just wanna snuggle her, you know? But she doesn’t like to let me. When I try, she pushes her little paws out and runs away. I swear I can see her shake her head every time I walk into the room, like she’s telling me go hug someone else.”

“Maybe your cat is autistic.” I shrug and watch as his face pales and his eyes widen to the point that they’re comical. The sight has me bursting into laughter. “You should… see your… face,” I manage, my eyes squinting with the force of my laughter. Despite my eyes being nearly closed, I don’t miss the slow smile that blooms on his face or the way his warm gaze drifts over every part of my face, collecting on my lips.

“You have a fucked-up sense of humor, red.” The dimples on his cheek hold all of my attention. “I like it,” he adds before I can misconstrue his words as something negative. “Now, let’s go inside and see what you’re wearing on this date, yeah?”