A Complete Game (Washington DC Soaring Eagles #3) - Aven Ellis Page 0,13
my life there. I simply knew in my heart there was another place I was meant to be. Now, I wasn’t guided to Virginia by some instinctive calling—I ended up here thanks to being eighteen, in love, and completely stupid in my decision-making—but as soon as I landed in Virginia, it felt right. My first visit to DC to search for a job confirmed it. I might not have planned to come here, but this town is where I’m supposed to be.
I glance at my reflection in a bay window of a boutique filled with organic beauty supplies and smile. I didn’t plan to start dating tonight, either, but perhaps fate is also guiding me in a different direction than I initially thought.
Electricity shoots through me as Brady comes to mind. We are meeting at a modern Vietnamese restaurant, and his choice of restaurant excites me beyond measure. One, it’s a place where a grown-ass man who is serious about having a date would take a woman. Second, it shows he likes different cuisines. That’s huge for me, because not only do I live to eat, but being a vegetarian, I find different cultural cuisines give me a lot of fun options when eating out, so I love them.
But as soon as he texted me and asked what I thought of the idea, I got goosebumps. Everything about him has appealed to me so far, and this ticks another box for me.
I find myself walking a little faster in anticipation. I’m early, but I’m always early. My idea of late is being on time. I glance down at the phone I have in my hand to check the time. Perfect. I can see the restaurant up ahead, and I should be ten minutes early. I’ll be able to take a breath, fix my hair, and try to act nonchalant as I wait for Brady to show up.
I reach the door of the restaurant, which is painted a vibrant red, pull it open, and adjust my eyes to the dim lighting inside. I see flickering candles in small lanterns on wood tables. Vietnamese-style birdcages and beautiful colored paper lanterns hang from the ceiling in an artful cluster over the main dining area, and the walls have a beautiful bird-and-floral pattern on a charcoal gray wallpaper. Black chairs and booths complete the sexy vibe.
I am about to approach the hostess stand when my eyes fall upon the raised bar.
Brady is there waiting for me.
My heart leaps when my eyes discover him. He’s taken a seat and is scrolling through his phone, a glass of water parked at his side. I stand completely still, simply drinking him in. He’s wearing a rich plum sweater with the sleeves pushed up, revealing his beautifully inked arms. Even from here, I can see how massive his shoulders are, how broad his chest is a—
Brady suddenly lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine. A huge smile lights up his face, and now my heart is beating in overdrive. He rises from his stool, unfolding his tall frame. I see he has dressed up for me, wearing charcoal gray pants and a pair of black oxford loafers.
I feel my pulse quicken with each step he takes toward me. Finally, he’s standing before me, and I feel woozy from his presence. My God, he’s so handsome.
I’m going to need to draw more checkboxes on my list. Because by being early and dressing up and picking this cool restaurant to eat at?
I’m going to run out of boxes by the time we select appetizers.
I watch his pale-green eyes appraise me as he approaches. I feel this energy run through me, a mixture of anticipation and excitement, as he stops a few steps in front of me.
“Addison, you look gorgeous,” Brady says. He lets out a deep breath. “Wow.”
His eyes take me in again, moving over my chiffon, long-sleeved black mini dress and my tall black boots. I threw a double-breasted, rich-red wool coat over the top and matched my lip color to it. Thank you, Dior, for your shade called Red Smile. I swept some of my hair up, but in a loose twist, allowing some wispy locks to frame my face.
“Thank you,” I say, happy that he likes how I look.
“Damn, girl,” he continues, raking a hand through his hair. Then he flashes me that crooked smile. “You are merely at the hostess stand, and you’re already throwing fastballs at me.”