He practically threw the folded napkin in his lap to hide what he thought must be the tallest raging hard-on ever.
He coughed. “You took so long to call. I honestly got worried that you wouldn’t?”
Savannah smiled at him. “I’m sorry about that” she said. “But honestly, I just couldn’t seem to make up my mind about calling”
“Why?” he asked.
“Well, I guess I was worried about looking desperate… Or something like that” she replied honestly.
“There’s no need to feel that way” he said. “Believe me, if there anyone who is desperate between the both of us, it’s definitely me”
Savannah smiled. “Yeah I highly doubt that” she said.
“I’m serious.” Matt said. “I kept thinking about you. Wanting you to call. And if you didn’t…” he stopped talking.
“What would have happened?” Savannah asked, still smiling.
“Well, I would have returned to the diner to asked again.” He said. “But this time, I would have asked publicly, so everyone would hear me… And then you wouldn’t be able to say no. You are very beautiful… Who wouldn’t want to go out with you”
Savanah laughed. “You are very good with words. I see” she said.
“I’m not flattering you” he said simply. “I don’t flatter” and then he gave her a look that made her silly heart somersault.
Just then, the waitress interrupted as if on cue and asked them if they wanted a drink. Savannah ordered a sake.
“Make it two,” he added. If she was going to go for the harder stuff, so would he. Boy, this could end up being a much more interesting date than he ever expected.
Savannah felt like she had lost her entire vocabulary all in the past three minutes.
This guy was incredible. He had respected her choice and had come to the restaurant she choose.
He seemed to care, to take the time to make a good first impression, and she loved his sense of humor even if it did nearly lead to her early demise from a heart attack via misunderstanding. And he was so nice.
Of course she could never tell him that. Most of the guys who dated her took her to a restaurant that had 50-inch plasma televisions blasting five different sporting events all at once, and the most gourmet item on the menu was fried mozzarella sticks.
She blanked when the waitress asked her what she wanted to drink, so she blurted out sake, because it was the one drink she had ever had in an Asian restaurant years ago, when her mother had taken her to a Hibachi place for her twenty-first birthday. So she ordered it most of the time. Well, hey, sake it was.
She figured one shot would loosen her up and then she could show more of herself. With Matt joining her, she knew she’d ordered appropriately for this type of restaurant and began to let herself unclench a little.
She glanced at the table and saw that she was revealing more of herself already. Her sweater had dipped down a little too much to show the black lace of her bra and when she looked up, she found that she did not meet Matt’s eyes with her own, but that he, in fact, was staring at the same spot she had just been looking at.
Apparently he was not enough of a gentleman to pretend that he wasn’t staring—until he cut his eyes away abruptly. He threw his napkin in his lap, looked down at the menu, and said “I have no idea what any of this stuff is.” He said. “I don’t do Thai a lot”
Then he turned and craned his head to watch one of the servers take a tray over to a nearby table. “Whatever it is, though, it smells incredible.”
That loosened her up more, her nervous laughter shifting into something more genuine. These startlingly special few minutes felt like they had already altered reality for her and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but was trying very, very hard not to make more meaning out of these few perfect moments with Matt.
A giddiness, unfamiliar and not fleeting (to her utter shock, filled her skin and her thoughts as she shyly caught his eye and let it settle, not looking away.
Their stare deepened into something more primal, more knowing, and her insecurity faded as they communicated without words.
Interrupted by the waitress, she pulled her eyes away with regret as the woman brought their drinks. Matt held his up in a toast and said, “To… You, Savannah”
She nodded acknowledgment, and answered, “To you” clinking glasses before they drank and put down the empty shot glasses. She fingered the rim of her glass and then they both leaned forward on the table with great expectation.
They discussed about their jobs and families and by the time the waitress brought his meal, which was something that he could not only not pronounce properly, but, by the looks of it, couldn’t even guess at about half the ingredients in it.
She began to eat her food. He dug into his. He welcomed the silence. He watched her. He took the dinner as an opportunity to just keep an eye on her. To see what she was like. To see what her body language would give away.
She kept pulling on the shoulder of her sweater, correcting everything so that the edge of her black silk bra wouldn’t show, and every time she did it, a little part of him tugged. Mostly in the crotch area. But also in his heart.
Because, man, was he loving that little piece of black lace right now.
He put a mouthful of food in his mouth. And then, “Mmmm!” he groaned. “This is incredible.”
“Yeah, mine’s luscious.” Savannah said.
So are you, he thought, spearing a piece of fish and holding out his fork.
“Do you want a bite of mine?” he asked.
He held the fork out for her and she looked at him in a certain way, eyes narrowing a bit while cocking her head, one little curl floating out of her ponytail as she tucked it behind her ear and leaned forward.