After selecting a random show on my Fire TV, Reece and I sat on my beige couch and made ourselves comfortable. He had given me time to change out of my jeans, into pajama pants and matching slippers, but once I'd returned, he'd removed his sweater and waited for me. I felt intoxicated from just looking at him.

"So," Reece sipped from his glass as I sat beside him, my thigh brushing against his leg, "what got you into writing?"

He went straight into the "writing" talk. I couldn't complain. This was nice. As the show's intro started, I smiled at Reece and shrugged. "I've always liked stories," I said. "Then one day I thought what if I created a story that I wanted to read, you know? Stories with characters that looked like me, like people I knew, with a world and background that was familiar to me. I thought it would be cool if I could do that."

"Aren't you?" Reece lifted his brows. When we locked eyes, he chuckled. "I can tell you like dystopian stuff, which is great. Everyone likes a good cyborg takeover end-of-the-world story. But yours has depth."

I took a sip. "I haven't written it yet."

"I know, but it's obvious in your notes and ideas." He used his glass of wine to point in the air. "It'll happen, I know it. And I can't wait to read it."

I blushed. He was a fan. I never thought I'd have one. And for it to be the hot librarian, how could I complain? He was intelligent as he was beautiful.

Reece noticed the cup in my hand as I took another sip, and grinned. "Should I bring the bottle here just in case you want a refill?"

I giggled at my glass. "Sure, why not?"

Reece didn't wait. He pushed himself up from the couch and walked into my kitchen. In one swoop, he went to the table, grabbed the bottle, and returned while strategically avoiding Francesca's eager prances around his feet. He put it on the coffee table and reached for my cup. "Let me get this for you," he said.

I let him, watching as he poured alcohol for me. Once it reached halfway, he gave it back to me with a big smile. It was extra, but it was cute.

"Thank you," I grinned, taking my cup back. "I appreciate it."

"Anytime," he said as he refilled his glass, too.

The awkwardness deep within my belly decided to make an appearance. I wasn't sure what to say to him next. He made himself comfortable and smelled like heaven, yet my brain sputtered like an old car with a faulty motor. What was I supposed to say next? Should I continue the writing conversation? Should we watch the show that we paid no attention to? Or should I—

"You're beautiful, Camila," Reece blurted out, yet it was also sensual. As I stared at my glass, my brows lifted high. I took a deep breath.

He chuckled, placing his glass on the coffee table. "Sorry if that came off strong," he said.

"No, no!" I squeaked, shaking my head. It wasn't strong. I liked it. I liked him.

Biting my lips, I wondered if his hands were strong, too. What about his kiss? Was this the wine talking? I wasn't one to think like this about someone, but as I looked at him, watching his hand pass over his neck; he huskily chuckled and reached for his glass, I couldn't help it.

It's the wine.

I gently placed my cup back on the table.

"I think I'm nervous," he said, sipping from his glass as he picked it up again. We locked eyes as he smiled. The sounds of Netflix shifting into another scene surrounded us. "I'm not trying to mess this up. Does that make sense?"

"It does." I licked my bottom lip before biting it. Francesca made her presence known. Meowing quietly, she moved around the coffee table as I pulled my legs up on the couch, so I sat on top of them. "I kind of feel the same way."

I loved his honesty. He let his feelings show. I wasn't sure if the wine was helping him do it, but I felt like it encouraged me; considering that I looked at him and had every possible sensual thought rush through my head.

"I like you. I'm not good at these things." Looking down at my slippers, I gently, yet nervously played with the small llama ears. "I feel like if I say anything else, you'd think I'm weird and not talk to me anymore—"

"That wouldn't happen." He placed his cup before him and scooted closer. His thigh met mine, even in the awkward way I was sitting. I was afraid of looking at him until I saw his hand out of the corner of my eye. I felt his fingers on my arm. Before I knew it, his thumb was under my chin, and he turned my head to look into his hooded beautiful eyes. "I like you too much to ignore you. I feel something here."

I gulped. He felt something. Like what? Were they butterflies because I had an army of them in my belly? Or were they something else?

As he came closer, face inching toward mine, I knew I'd find out soon.

"What do you feel?" I whispered, keeping my gaze on him.

He bit his bottom lip and stroked my chin with his thumb. The mix of wine and cologne filled me, and the combination wasn't a feeling I had a name for. I was sure there was one but with my lack of crushes, romantic relationships, or connections like the one I felt with Reece, the possible word wasn't in my vocabulary.

Yet. He came closer, lips just a small space away from mine. A word I didn't know yet.

"We're cut from the same vine, just from different ends. We're the same, our interests align, and I can't deny that spark I'm feeling this close to you." He didn't hold back. Closing the gap, he pressed a gentle peck against my lips. The tiny sound seemed to echo. "Why would you think I would ignore you?"

I burned. Heat covered my cheeks. I didn't have to see myself to know that I was bright red and blushing from my face, neck, and toes. I bit my bottom lip as I whispered, "Because guys never called me back."

Reece grinned and brushed his nose across mine. "I'm not like other guys, Camila."

My heart pounded. I wanted more than anything for another kiss. He said what any guy would say, but his words held weight. I believed him. I felt it in his actions, in his kindness. He was different and I wanted to keep that.

Feeding off his energy, I leaned forward, prepared to take the kiss I wanted for myself. But the second I tried to, Francesca meowed and jumped on the couch between us. She squeezed her pudgy body in the space above our legs, then nudged her face into Reece's chest. He leaned back, chuckling as he shook his head. "I don't think your cat thinks I'm different."

My eyes widened. I stared down at Francesca like she was a buzz kill. Purring, she looked back at me before spinning slowly to sit on Reece's lap.

No, she wasn't. And yes, she thought he was different. So much so, that she claimed him. I could tell by her loud purrs, her closed eyes, and how she kneaded his leg.

Was I jealous of my cat? The same cat who liked no one.

"She's cute though," he said, scratching her ear. She leaned into his touch, purring still.

I chuckled and playfully rolled my eyes. "She is," I looked back at him, "and she likes you."

"Really?" Reece grinned at me before moving his fingers to the bottom of Francesca's chin. She followed his scratches, tail wagging happily. "Then if it's okay with you, I should be back here more often."

I bit the insides of my cheeks. Was he inviting himself over to see more of Francesca, or me? My heart hammered in my chest, and it felt like it was about to explode. "I'd like that." I pushed my hair behind my ears. "We can talk, ignore Netflix, brainstorm," I shrugged, "anything."

As Francesca jumped off Reece's lap, he smirked and nodded, relaxing his arms on his legs. "I'd like that."

"Yeah." I wasn't sure about him, but I felt like Francesca's random interruption threw off the mood and shook what could've been a bigger kiss moment out of the loop. And I wasn't sure how to get it back since Reece had taken the lead.

Don't be awkward, Camila. Not now.

"I think I should go," Reece said. As he stood, he reached for his glass and finished the wine inside of it with a few gulps. I stood, too. While I didn't want him to leave, I knew it'd gotten weird. "Thanks for the drink," he added, rubbing his neck.

"Yeah, of course," I said as I bit my lip and headed toward the door. The sound of his shoes, following close behind echoed. When my hand settled on the doorknob, I hesitated and tried to think of how to get the moment back. Biting my lip, I thought of every romance book I'd ever read, every rom-com I sat and watched with snacks. While each had the most adorable scenes, I couldn't figure out how to put one in motion.

Admitting defeat to myself, I turned the lock, twisted the knob, and pulled open the door.

Reece only partly stepped out into the hall, pulling his sweater back on. His back pressed against the doorframe as he looked down at me. Just as he'd done on the couch, he gently reached for my chin and held it between his fingers. "Next time we do this," he said, "I'll ask more questions before I go straight in for the kiss."

I held air in my cheeks. He couldn't regret it already. It was too soon! The kiss was small, but the gentle spark it let off would warm me throughout the night. If questions were what he wanted, he could ask me any if it meant he'd kiss me again.

"But until then," he leaned in close, lips coming back to mine, just as they'd done before, "think it's all right if I steal another?"

I sighed against his lips. The warmth of my breath beat back at me. Holding his gaze, I nodded. "It isn't stealing if I'm giving it to you, right?"

His brows shot up as he gazed back at me with hooded eyes. His thumb brushed over my chin. "Touché," he said and pressed his lips against mine.

This time it wasn't a peck. It was fuller. Warmer. Our mouths opened slightly. The taste of him with alcohol had my mind spinning, and I leaned against him to keep myself straight. My heart erupted in my chest. While one side of me couldn't believe this was happening, the rest of me took it.

He chuckled into our kiss and pulled back, brushing his thumb over my lips. "Stop by the library tomorrow. Same time?"

"Yeah." I swooned and balanced myself against the opened door. "I can go by after work."

"I'll get us another quiet room." He winked at me as he finally stepped out of my apartment. And I sighed as I watched him leave.

Did this happen? Or am I dreaming?

***

"Excuse me?" Nancy leaned against my register during our morning shift. She looked at me with the widest eyes, mouth opened, jaw ready to hit her chest.

It took me an hour to tell Nancy about the other night. We clocked in, looked at the day's schedule, and we were ready to work; until she saw the look on my face. She said she'd never seen me so giddy. I still felt Reece's kiss when I woke up in the morning. So, once Nancy followed me to my register, I had to tell her.

"Say that again?" Nancy flattened her hands against the register's belt. "You—"

"Kissed him." Heat rushed to my cheeks. The warmth of him so close. The fullness of his lips, covering mine in a kiss. Thinking about it, my heart fluttered.

"Okay, okay." Nancy stepped back and lifted her hands but looked at me with disbelief and a cocked brow. "The hot guy at that library was in your apartment?"

I nodded, pressing my lips together.

"And all you did was sip wine and kiss?" Her brows lifted higher than I'd ever seen them.

Oh, boy. I knew Nancy and her romantic, passionate escapades. My night didn't compare but I loved it. "Yeah," I whispered, shyly looking at my hands. "He was going to kiss me again, or maybe I was going to kiss him—either way, it didn't matter 'cause Franny jumped on him and interrupted everything."

"Damn cat," Nancy hissed.

"Yeah, I know," I lifted my gaze, "but he likes cats and didn't mind. He said he'd want to come back."

"Oh?" Nancy leaned excitedly against the register again. "Like when? Tonight? What is it, Thursday? Y'all can do it."

I blinked, nervously tapping the enter key on my register. The quiet beeps echoed in my ear. "Do it? Do what?"

"Ma'am." Nancy took a deep breath and looked me in the eye, blinking rapidly. "One does not have a fine ass man like that in their apartment and not live a little. When was the last time you—" She wiggled her fingers.

I gulped. It'd been a minute. A hot minute. And it had been so bad, I don't even think about it. Ever. "Um—"

"If you're hesitating, then that means you should take the chance. Live a little. Be free and be excited." She threw her hands up in the air. "Stop being shy! I mean, he likes you, right? You're gorgeous, he's going to like you! So, why not?"

Nancy was all about, "go big or go home," and lived her life as such. If I'd said I didn't admire her attitude, I'd be lying. Nancy could look at an opportunity and just go for it. This went beyond men and her relationship adventures.

She did this every day, everywhere. Nancy had tried to apply for the manager position before Joe became our unruly and unfair boss. She didn't get it but had that stopped her from trying? No. Nothing stopped her. I want to be like Nancy.

"So, make me a promise, hm?" Nancy balanced herself on one elbow, then lifted her pinky. She wiggled it until I did the same and wrapped my little finger around hers. "Text that man and live a little."

When she said it, the realization hit me that Reece and I never actually exchanged phone numbers. We saw each other and made plans; old school through talking. No texts. No phones.

When I remained quiet, Nancy sighed and scrunched her lips up to her nose. "You don't know his number, do you?"

I shook my head.

"Man," Nancy pulled her pinky away from mine as she laughed, "the two of you are different, I swear. You get close to each other, don't bow wow, and you don't even have each other's cell?" Still laughing, she pushed away from my register.

"I don't get it." She walked towards the aisles and waved one hand over her head. "Maybe that's what works with you two. Y'all different from everyone else but each other."

What she said made me smile. Reece had said something similar. We were the same; different ends, but overall, we aligned with each other.

Glancing at the time on the register, I still had a few hours before I was done for the day until I saw Reece. I made a mental promise to myself, matching the one I made with Nancy, that I'd live a little when I saw him.