Faker - Sarah Smith Page 0,71
and turn back to mine. Pulling out my phone, I type out a text to him:
Left a surprise for you on top of your car. Happy climbing!
After returning home, I clean up the mess on the kitchen counter and fold the basket of laundry I’ve been putting off for a week. I am contemplating a hot soak in the tub when there’s a knock at my door. When I open it, Tate’s focused face greets me, along with a bottle of wine in his hand. The plastic container of cupcakes rests in his other. Three cupcakes are already gone.
“Up for turning your surprise into date number two?”
I’ve never seen his face this bright before. His eyes sparkle, his cheeks flush, and it is divine.
“Yes, please.”
He follows me to the kitchen, gushing about the cupcakes. “They’re my favorite. Best surprise ever.”
I pour us glasses of water and fetch two wineglasses. “It’s just a box recipe.” I blush. My eyes fall to my glass. “I’m awful at making anything from scratch. You should have seen the macarons I made for Kaitlin’s baby shower.”
He’s standing on the other side of the counter, which is the perfect distance for him to stretch out his arm and rest his hand under my chin. He tilts my head up.
“None of that disparaging talk. They’re delicious.”
When he licks his lips, I shiver. “A little more than two weeks,” I mumble.
I don’t have to explain what I mean. He understands that I’m counting down the number of weeks I have to wait until I can engage in certain physical activities.
His fingers glide down the side of my neck. A soft moan is the least obnoxious noise I can manage.
“I should probably stay on this side of the counter.” He demolishes half of a cupcake in one bite.
I watch him chew and swallow. “Good idea.” For a few seconds, my eyes scan his sculpted upper body, which is displayed nicely in a sleeveless workout shirt.
He pours both of us wine, then clinks his glass to mine. “So what’s your typical second-date activity?”
“Usually dinner. First date I do drinks or coffee. That way we don’t have to spend an agonizing meal together if we don’t hit it off. You?”
“I take her to the rock climbing gym to see if she can hang.”
I bite into a cupcake. Tate’s eyebrow raises and his hand twitches in my direction, but then he rests it on the counter.
“Frosting. On your lip.”
With the back of my hand, I wipe it away. I bet if my body weren’t in such cock-blocking condition, he would have taken care of the frosting with his mouth, which could have led to a rather sexy make-out.
I stare at the hemline of my cotton tank dress. “You’re hard core, putting dates through physical labor.”
“If rock climbing goes well, third date is Chinese food.”
I pause midchew. Lucky me got to experience third-date Tate on our first.
“What else do you want to know?”
“Anything and everything.”
He doesn’t answer right away.
“I broke my wrist playing soccer when I was in third grade,” he finally says. “I studied abroad in England when I was in college. I wasn’t used to driving stick then, and I crashed into a roundabout.”
My jaw falls. “Seriously?”
“Dead serious. My parents were livid. Their car insurance went through the roof because of me.”
“What other un-fun stuff don’t I know about you?”
He nods without breaking eye contact. The intensity is as unnerving as it is mesmerizing.
“You mean like, relationships, exes?”
“You already know about my un-fun stuff.” I think back to how I admitted my “O” problem to him and resist the urge to shrink into myself.
“Fair enough.” Silence fills the air between us. It’s loaded on his end, and I think I know why.
“Someone broke your trust, didn’t they?” I ask.
He nods. “I’ve had a few serious relationships in my life. The longest one, we dated senior year of high school into senior year of college.”
“Wow, four years? That’s a long time when you’re that young.”
“It was. We went to different colleges, so we were long distance, too, which was awful. The whole thing was a terrible mistake looking back on it now. We moved pretty quickly into committing to each other. We argued all the time. We’d break up, get back together, over and over. She liked going out with big groups. I preferred one-on-one dates. We’d get jealous of each other. She hated any female friends of mine. I hated most of her guy friends. It was pathetic.” He lets out