Ethan:
Hey everyone. Dinner is at 6.
No need to bring anything.
Unless you want something
specific to drink.

Me:
Sounds great. I'll be there.

I stare at my phone for a minute waiting on the others in the group text to respond, but as the minutes go by, I give up and continue watching the K-Drama I've been binge watching on Netflix. If Madison was here, she'd give me a lecture about how unhealthy it is that I still submerse myself in the culture, but I really don't give a damn. The story lines on American shows just really don't compare anymore to the K-Dramas I've watched. But I'd be lying if I said it doesn't make me think of him. Everything makes me think of him.

The clinking of my ring on the wine glass makes me remember the day he gave it to me as we sat in the backyard of Uncle Kim's house in the makeshift movie theater Tae put together for us with white lights illuminating the backyard. Since that day, I haven't taken this ring off for more than a few minutes to just shower, wash dishes or apply lotion. Taking another sip of my alcoholic beverage of choice, I let myself get lost in the show and do my best to not let myself slip down the rabbit hole of missing Kim Taehyung.

My phone's alarm begins to ring a few hours later, reminding me that it's time to get dressed for the dinner tonight. I pout as I pause my show at an awkward spot when things were really beginning to heat up in the story line and slide back on my house slippers as I make my way to my bedroom in my downtown loft.

The place I got over a year ago is spacious, especially for one person to live here. The large living room with its white and cream decor and kitchen with its stainless steel appliances contrast against the weathered brick walls. My bedroom, though, has to be one of my most favorite rooms. The warm, low lighting, fluffy king sized bed, and view of the city always looks so inviting, but it does make it hard to actually leave it in the mornings.

Digging through my closet, I opt for a simple satin black and loose flowing halter top with a high neck line and some distressed light wash skinny jeans that I'll pair with some strappy nude heels. Since it's just us friends hanging out, I don't feel the need to be too fancy, but want to put in a little more effort anyway. As usual, I keep my makeup light and natural with a bit of bronzer to compliment my summertime tan I'm rocking. Keeping my collarbone length hair straight and smooth, I tuck it behind one ear and give myself one more glance over in my large floor mirror before nodding at myself in approval.

"Good enough." I say out loud to myself as I grab my purse and bottle of wine for tonight to make my way towards Ethan's home.

My phone dings just as I step outside of the main entrance and walk towards my car parked on the side of the secluded street. Not wanting to be unsafe, I wait to even dig it out of my purse until I get inside my car and lock the doors again. Living in the city sure is different than the small town I grew up in where not worrying about having everything locked or walking alone at night wasn't a big deal.

Kinsley:
Sorry, Ethan! Lucas and I
have to flake on you guys
tonight. I've come down
with a cold.

Ethan:
Oh no! I hope you feel
better soon. We'll miss
you guys.

Me:
Feel better, Kins!
Ethan, I'm headed there now.

Ethan:
Drive safe!

Well, that's two down, but at least Madison and Justin will still be there. Not that I haven't hung out with Ethan alone before. We've done so on many occasions, but with this being like a little dinner party, I think it'd be kind of weird if it was just a me and him thing tonight. Not to mention, he planned this whole little get together tonight. I'd feel bad for him if every one of us flaked.

I drive up to his apartment building a few minutes away from my loft and park in one of the visitor spaces I normally pull into. The guard waves at me as soon as I step out, knowing exactly who I am and I give him a friendly wave in return while making a beeline for the elevator. No matter how nice the guard is or how many security cameras there are, parking garages will always give me the creeps.

Ringing the door bell to his fourteenth floor apartment, I wait patiently in the hallway by reading the label on the bottle and plucking off the random piece of hair that has fallen onto my shirt.

"Hey! Glad you could make it." Ethan smiles down at me as he pulls open the white front door.

"Of course." I smile back at him and proceed to step inside as he holds the door open for me.

The musical melodies of an R&B playlist sings through the built in speakers in his walls so that it's heard throughout the house. The lights were dimmed just enough so that you could still see, but low enough to give you a relaxed vibe. The smell of Italian food catches my attention immediately as I head towards the gourmet kitchen.

"You look great, as usual. Would you like for me to put this in the refrigerator?" Ethan asks as he walks up behind me and holds his hands out for the wine bottle I'm still clinging onto.

"Thank you. Yes, please." I smile politely and hand it over.

"I would think Madison and Justin should be here soon, too." He pushes up the sleeves of his black button up shirt that's tucked into his dark wash, freshly ironed jeans as he gives me a nervous smile. A piece of his messy, dark chocolate strands falls just over his left eyebrow just before he finger combs it away from his face.

I nod and wiggle onto one of the tall bar stools at the kitchen island and watch him continue to stir and season the food he's preparing for tonight. From the looks of it, he's making some simple spaghetti and meatballs. Ever since finding out that his birth father was part Italian and grew up there, he's been trying to master the art of Italian cuisine and I have to admit that his spaghetti is one of the best I've ever tried. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if he decided to make that tonight after I raved about it the last time he cooked it. I had two plate fulls that night and my stomach was so sore, I couldn't eat again until dinner the next day.

Madison:
Unfortunately we won't be
able to make it either.

Justin:
Sorry guys!

Looking at my text notifications on my phone placed neatly on the granite countertop next to me, I roll my eyes and run my tongue against the inside of my cheek. I didn't want to put it out in the universe, but something told me that when Kinsley, the girl who never flakes on anything last minute, said she wasn't coming, something told me that I was being set up. Now with Madison and Justin also flaking, I know damn well it is. I grab my phone and exit out of the group chat, deciding to text her privately instead.

You did this on purpose,
didn't you?

Madison:
Would you have gone on a date with him if I hadn't done this?

Don't answer my question
with a question!

Madison:
That's what I thought.
Love you! Have fun!

Letting out a silent, but heavy sigh, I squint my eyes in frustration and stuff my phone into my matching black clutch. I hate to admit it, but I know she's right. If she hadn't flaked on tonight and obviously talked Kinsley into doing the same thing, Ethan and I would only casually hang out like we normally would. And I did tell her that I would consider it, but we both know that without a push that just wouldn't happen.

I'm now almost twenty four years old with one boyfriend in my track record and only one sexual partner. Not that it's a bad thing, but how much longer should I wait around for someone who must not want me anymore?

But lord knows I wasn't lying when I said I was forever his. The ring on my finger starts to feel heavy as the bittersweet memory begins to settle back in.

"Well," He says as he turns around with only two plates in his hand, "looks like it's just me and you tonight. Table or bar stool?"

Typically bar stool would be my answer to keep the interactions with him on more a friendly level, but tonight I'm going to actually give this a decent shot. I know he wants to date me and I know Madison won't give up until I at least give it a try.

"Table." I undoubtedly state and Ethan's eyebrows raise at the conviction in my tone.

He walks over and sets the two plates down across from each other as I walk over with the wine bottle and begin to pour the red liquid into the two empty glasses. The lit candles on the table added to the ambiance as the song switches to one from The Weeknd while he sits down in front of me looking more nervous than he has in a while. I try my best to hide the smirk that's beginning to curl up at the corner of my mouth.

"I can, uh, get rid of the, um, the candles if you'd like and turn up the lights. I was thinking it'd be more people here." He stammers cutely while rubbing the palms of his large hands over his thighs.

"Leave it. It's fine, really." I smile and place the folded cloth napkin over my lap.

We both begin eating without talking and avoiding eye contact with each other. This whole situation is much more intimate than either of us planned for and I'm pretty certain that if we had actually scheduled a date, we'd be a bit more prepared.

After half of the plate of spaghetti is gone and we've both downed our first glass of wine, he slowly looks up at me and chuckles lightly as he shakes his head. "You've got some sauce on your chin."

Lifting up my napkin, I dab away at my face to try to remove the homemade marinara sauce that surely has began to stain my skin at this point. He chuckles once more with a nod when I gesture for him to tell him if I got it all. That's one of the many things he's come to notice about me. I can't eat pasta or ice cream without making a mess. You'd think that by me entering adulthood that I'd finally stop doing that, but nope.

"What all did you have planned for tonight?" I ask as I pour myself another glass of wine. I'm starting to feel a little buzzed, but the liquid courage is what I need right now. I have to get over this dating dry spell.

"Honestly? Not much. I figured we'd all eat and just talk about random things for a while like we usually do when all of us hang out, but now that it's you and me...I don't know. Does this feel different to you too? Like kind of...just different?" He questions, holding out his glass so that I can top off his beverage as well.

With a giggle, I nod my head and begin to stand up from the table to take my plate to the kitchen sink, but I'm quickly stopped by him offering to do so instead.

"So let's just hang out. It's what we'd normally do. We're just a bit more dressed up this time for obviously no reason." I grab the bottle of wine and make my way to his living room couch where I plop down and make myself comfortable by kicking off my heels.

"That sounds great actually." He says over to me as he finishes rinsing off the dinnerware and putting it into the dishwasher.

Walking over to me slowly with his hands in his pockets, he sits down next to me, man-spreading and resting his head on the back of the couch. The music continues to play as we both get used to this new situation.

I huff out a sigh and look over at him while drinking my entire glass of wine in just a few gulps, "You've been wanting to date me since you met me, right?" My sudden bluntness surprises him as his eyes go wide and he turns to look at me. "Well?"

"Yes." He admits, pulling his lips into his mouth and causing his dimples to show on his already flushed cheeks.

"Well, now's your chance Mr. Michaels. Show me what you got." I dramatically wink and smile over at him.

Exhaling with a nervous chuckle, he smiles over at me, appreciating my playful attitude to try to break the tension that was beginning to suffocate the room. He sits up and turns his body to face me after reaching over to grab the wine bottle and drinking it straight from the source.

"Let's see. I already know so much about you..." He looks at me directly.

"Pssh, please. You don't know that much." I roll my eyes and take the wine bottle from his hands to take a drink of my own, the action not escaping him that my mouth is where his just was.

"I know that you can't eat ice cream," He lifts his hand to rub at the stained skin of my chin, making my lips slightly part and my heart beat faster from his touch, "or pasta without making a mess."

"Anyone who knows me would know that." I counter with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips.

"I know that you secretly paint to relieve your stress." He looks back up into my eyes and the statement catches me by surprise.

"How did you know that?" I ask suspiciously.

Never once had I told another living soul that I've taken up painting as a way to calm me or get things off of my mind. Many, many years ago, Taehyung had suggested it when we were in London and after we broke up, I finally picked up a large canvas and started painting my emotions onto something I could burn later. Only a few smaller pieces I've ever kept, but they're all put away deep into my closet and I know he's never been in there.

Grabbing my hand, he flips it over to reveal a few marks of paint that I haven't been able to scrub off of my flesh well enough yet and runs the tip of his index finger lightly over it while slowly looking back up to me. "Every time I've ever seen you stressed, sad or pissed off, I see you the next day with paint on your hands. You forget, I do the same thing."

"Lucky guess." I breathe out.

He runs his tongue over his plump bottom lip as his eyes bounce from my own mouth to my eyes and back again. I haven't realized until now just how close we've gotten. Both he and I have leaned closer and closer to one another until we're only inches away. I know that this different kind of interaction happening will change things between us in one way or another, but I also can't deny the feeling of attraction I have for this man just as he has never contested his own desire for me.

"I've been wanting to kiss you since you were eighteen." He leans in even closer until I can feel the electric current flowing between us and smell the sweet wine on his breath. "I'm going to finally kiss you now. If you don't want me to, now's your chance to stop me."

He waits for only a couple of seconds giving me enough time to speak, but not enough time to let me second guess it like everything else I do. With his hand reaching up to trace the curve of my jaw, he presses his lips to mine. Slow and timidly, he molds into them as I begin to melt into his touch.

It had been so long since I've been kissed that the sensation and adrenaline make my head spin. His mouth skillfully makes me surrender to him while his tongue gently parts my lips, asking for permission to deepen the intensity.

My heart feels like it's going to pound out of my chest the moment I feel his wet, strong tongue caress my own. A pool of heat stirs within me as our breathing quickens and I curse the amount of alcohol flowing through my veins making me more sensitive to every tiny detail.

Pushing him away, he looks at me worriedly for fear of not only messing things up with me but possibly ruining our entire friendship we've built. But when I crash my lips back onto his and climb on top of him to straddle his lap, a groan of both approval and relief escapes him and his hands paw at me hungrily.