Out of Focus (Love in LA #3)

I laugh at her completely serious expression. “Me too.” I take a sip of my water because seeing Charlie like this is cutting into that thin thread of self-control.

The doorbell rings, and Morgan walks in a few seconds later with our drinks. With a smile etched on his face, he sets our drinks down and tucks the tray under his arm. “Have you had a chance to decide what you’d like, or maybe you have questions for me?” His gaze swings between me and Charlie.

I smile at her before lifting my chin to look at our young server. “We’re going to have one of everything, please.”

Morgan’s eyes widen, and his smile grows. “Oh, I like you two! Any changes to any of the dishes?”

I look to Charlie, who shakes her head. I realize she hasn’t said much to Morgan. “No, thank you,” I respond.

“Great. I’ll be back in with your appetizers in about fifteen to twenty minutes, but please feel free to use the call button if you need me before then.” He twists on his heel, and then it’s just the two of us again.

I thought it was a great idea to book this place so there wouldn’t be a busy restaurant for us to compete with or be overwhelmed by other patrons. But suddenly, it dawns on me that I’m nervous. The last time I was nervous on a date, I must have been seventeen.

“This is the most perfect date, Rafael.” She eyes me carefully. “It’s thoughtful and fun, and I really appreciate that you took the time to make this special. Even if it’s not, you know, real.”

I swallow the disappointment lodged in my throat. “What’s not real about this date, Chuck?” The nickname slips out. This is the one I seem to use when I need some distance from her, from getting too caught up in her.

“Well, I just mean because you’re helping me with research. It’s not as if we like each other like that or anything. We would never actually date.” I can’t see her hands on her lap, but I would bet that she’s clutching them together. I grab the bottom of her chair and pull it so she’s next to me. She yelps at the sudden movement.

I hate to bring it up, but I have to make my point, so here goes. “You went on a date with Zach for research. That was real. You didn’t know if you’d like each other like that either, but you kissed at the end of the night.” I take her hands in mine, steadying her movements and hopefully whatever emotions are running through her. “What do we need to make this date real? Two people who want to spend time together? Who are physically attracted to one another? Because both of those boxes are checked off for me. If they’re not for you, then we can end this right here, right now. No pressure. No hard feelings. No questions asked.” I swallow again, but this time, it feels more like a giant cotton ball is stuck in my mouth.

32/

now.

charlie

Both of those boxes are checked off for me.

I shouldn’t be surprised by this. And I’m not surprised that Rafael wants to spend time with me or that he finds me attractive. Not anymore. I’m surprised by his forthrightness. By the the truth of it all and where it could lead, which is to a place we absolutely cannot go.

I can’t entertain the possibility of this being anything more than mutual attraction that is being explored for the sake of my research. For the sake of my future relationship. With someone else.

Actually dating Rafael for real wouldn’t only affect the two of us. It would affect our best friends. Their children. That’s why this is just research. I’m gathering data from someone who is an expert in dating. He does this all the time and he’s completely unaffected by those relationships ending, so this will be no different. It’s another reason he’s the perfect person for this.

There. Dilemma resolved. I can state the facts and remain unattached like him. It’s physical attraction and friendship. Robert and I had that, too when we met.

With my mind made up, I go on. “I like spending time with you. You are unfairly, obscenely attractive.” The tension in his face eases until he senses what’s coming next. “But…” I look at our hands on my lap, the way he steadies me. “But this can’t go beyond this experiment. It can’t be real. There’s too much at stake with our friends, and I live in London.”

There’s a long pause as we both let the words sink in. “All right.” His thumbs draw circles on my knuckles. “I got it. But there’s nothing not real happening here. I want to be here with you, and I need you to want to be here, too. I need…” He takes a long breath in through his nose, releasing it slowly. “I need to know neither of us is doing anything we don’t want to do. I won’t do anything to cross lines with you, Charlie. I won’t take that chance. So, I need to know that you want?—”

“I do. I want to be here,” I say quickly. “I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do either. I’m sorry I made you feel like, I don’t know, like I was just going through the motions or something.” I bite down on my lower lip to give myself something else to focus on. Something other than the waves of emotions crashing inside me. Emotions I can’t even name right now. “I’m sorry.”

He squeezes my hands, then brings them to his face, placing my palms on his cheeks and keeping his hands over mine. I’ve never touched him like this. We’ve never touched each other like this. I look up to find him with his eyes closed, relief settling into his features. He pulls one of my hands to his lips and kisses my palm. The kiss lingers and seeps into my bones, as does the intimacy of this moment.

Our hands land back on my lap, then he’s cradling my face in his soothing palms, his chocolate caramel eyes warm and soft. His fingers move to grip the back of my neck, and he pulls my face toward his.

This must be it. The moment he kisses me. The tip of his nose brushes mine, and my eyes instinctively close. His breath sweeps over my cheek, and he lays a lingering kiss there, then he moves to the other, and his lips touch down again, decisively not on my lips. He runs his nose along my jaw until it sits just below my ear.

“Not yet,” he whispers, takes a deep breath, and pulls back, leaving me teetering. I have literal chills, and I’m more turned on than maybe ever before. Definitely. Definitely more than ever before. Never has a kiss caused any kind of throbbing at my core. Never have I felt this heady, intoxicating kind of arousal. I feel simultaneously wound up and taut, like I could snap at any moment. It’s so much all at once. And yet with him, knowing how honest we have been with one another, how openly we just discussed this situation, the sense of security only grows.

The doorbell dings again, and I sit back in my chair, trying to get some air back into my lungs. Morgan sweeps into the space with a large tray, all four plates somehow balanced on it. I focus on his movements as he sets everything down. He says something I don’t register, and then he’s gone again.

“Hope you’re hungry, shortcake.” Rafael lays his napkin on his lap, that easy smile on his face. I lift my glass of prosecco to my lips and drink half of it in one gulp. The chilly bubbles help to cool the fire that’s stoked inside me every time he smiles, calls me a sweet nickname, or looks at me in that way that tells me I’m in way over my head.

I start with the calamari because it’s closest to me, knowing I’ll try the tuna tartare next, then the tomato and burrata, and the mini pizza last.

Everything is delicious. Neither of us says much because we’re both so focused on the food, but it’s fine. We needed a reset.