Needing Her Read online

  Next we go to the stacks of t-shirts.

  “I don’t need any more t-shirts,” he says.

  “But these aren’t for working out. They’re to be worn out on our casual dates.”

  “I have to wear a collared shirt in public.” He points to the rack behind us. “How about a polo shirt?”

  He would look good in a polo shirt with his broad shoulders and muscular build. He’d look good in a t-shirt too. He’d look good in anything.

  “Okay, but we’re getting you a t-shirt to wear for when we’re home watching TV or making dinner.”

  He’s smiling at me and I can’t figure out why until I replay what I said. Home. Watching TV. Making dinner. We’ve just started dating and I’ve already assumed we’ll be spending all this time together.

  He slips his hand around my waist and leans down to me. “It sounds like we’ll be seeing each other a lot.”

  “Would you be okay with that?”

  “I would be more than okay with that.”

  He lets me go and I focus my attention back on the t-shirts. I pick out a dark blue one. Then I get a white polo shirt and a black one. I chose basic colors that I’ve seen him wear before. The shirt style is a big enough change. He wouldn’t wear the shirts if I picked ones in colors he doesn’t normally wear.

  We go to the register, and after he pays I take a pair of jeans and the white polo shirt and hand them to him. “Okay, go change.”

  “I’m already dressed.”

  “You’re too dressed up for a movie. I feel underdressed. I’d feel better if we were both wearing jeans.” I reach up and kiss him. “Please?”

  He sighs, then takes my hand and we walk back to the dressing room. Before he goes in there, he gives me a kiss. “I’m only doing this because I find you extremely irresistible and hard to say no to, which is a dangerous combination by the way.”

  I laugh as he goes in the dressing room again. He comes out in the new outfit. He looks like a super hot college guy. His dress clothes make him look older than 25, but in the casual clothes he could pass for 22 or 23.

  I take the clothes he had on and neatly fold them up and place them in the sack.

  “What do you think?” He stands in front of me. “Because I feel very uncomfortable right now so I hope you like it.”

  “I love it. You look great. But why are you uncomfortable? Do the clothes not fit right?”

  “They fit fine. I’ve just never been out in public in clothes like this. In college I occasionally wore polo shirts but with regular pants, not jeans.”

  “Well, relax, because you look really hot.” I thread my hand with his and we walk out of the store.

  “Now I need to get something for you.” He glances around the mall. “They don’t appear to have any designer stores here but I’m sure we could find something nice at that department store.”

  “I don’t need anything. I’m good.”

  “Come on. Let me buy you a dress. Or jewelry. Whatever you want.”

  “Really, Pearce. You don’t need to buy me anything.”

  “I have to get you something.” He scans the stores again. “I know what to get.” He takes me over to a jewelry store.

  “Pearce, no. I don’t want you buying me jewelry.”

  “I’m not. I’m buying you this.” He holds up a tall crystal vase. “Do you like it?”

  “Yes. It’s beautiful. But don’t buy me that. It’s too much.”

  He cocks his head, a grin on his face. “You do know I have money, right?”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should buy me expensive gifts.”

  “I want to.” He takes the vase to the register. While he’s up there, I check the price. It’s $250. He shouldn’t be spending that much on me but I can’t seem to stop him and at least now I’ll have something to put my flowers in.

  We take our shopping bags to the car. “Thank you for the vase. That was a very nice gift.”

  He wraps his arms around me. “You’re welcome. But it was more of a necessity than a gift. You’ll be getting a lot more flowers from me and you needed something to put them in.”

  “Now I need to do something nice for you. I don’t have money to buy you a gift but I could make you dinner sometime. Or I could make you brownies or pie or banana bread. Not to brag, but I’m a really good baker.”

  “You bake?” His brows rise. “I didn’t know people our age bake. Or that anyone still bakes.”

  “I guess a lot of people don’t, but I do. I find it relaxing and I love the way the house smells when something’s baking in the oven.” I check my watch. “Do you want to head inside to the theater? I was thinking we should go to the movie now and have dinner later.”

  “Good idea. Let’s get the movie over with.”

  “Hey!” I playfully hit him. “Movies are fun. You promised to be positive about trying new things.”

  “I never promised that.”

  “Well, then just pretend you like it, for my sake.”

  We go back inside and walk down to the theater. He lets me pick the movie so I pick an action film. If I’m making him go to the movies, I thought I should pick something he might like.

  After we get our tickets, we stop at the concession stand and I order a bucket of popcorn and two large sodas. Pearce tells me he doesn’t drink soda, but I explained that soda and popcorn go together and that he had to at least try it.

  We snack on the popcorn while waiting for the movie to start.

  “Sorry,” he says when his hand bumps mine in the bucket.

  I nudge his side. “That’s supposed to happen. Hands meeting in the popcorn bucket? It’s a form of flirting. Actually, that’s more true for 12-year-olds than people our age, but since you’re new to this you should practice. Go ahead.”

  He plays along, dipping his hand in the bucket and finding mine. But instead of leaving it there, he picks it up and kisses it.

  “I’ll pass on the popcorn trick. I can find better ways to flirt.” He puts his arm around my shoulder. “Are you having fun?”

  I move closer to him. “Yes. Are you? And don’t say no. You have to be positive.”

  He kisses me. “I think I’d have fun doing most anything with you. And that’s saying a lot because I don’t normally have fun.”

  “Then I need to change that, because everyone should have fun. Even stuffy old businessmen.”

  “Hey.” He takes his arm back. “I’m not old! Or stuffy!”

  I shrug. “You will be if you don’t add some fun to your life.”

  He smiles and puts his arm around me again.

  The movie starts and I shift a little so that I can rest my head on his shoulder. He lightly rubs my arm, and just like when he held my hand in the park, I get the feeling he’s telling me something with that simple gesture. I feel like he’s telling me he’s starting to care about me or maybe he already does. I hope so, because I care about him too.

  After the movie, I take him to a sports bar. It’s one of those places with giant TVs everywhere and pool tables and dart boards. It’s Saturday night so football is on and it’s loud and crowded. That doesn’t bother me, but I was worried it might bother Pearce because he’s not used to places like this. I only suggested it because I thought it would be fun to watch some of the game. My dad and I used to watch football together on the weekends and I miss it. I don’t have anyone to watch games with anymore.

  “Do you like football?” I ask Pearce. We just ordered. We both got a burger and beer. I was a little surprised Pearce would order that. I thought he’d order something more sophisticated, like a steak and a glass of wine.

  “I love football,” he says, “but I don’t have much time to watch it with my work schedule.”

  “You work too much. It’s not good for you.”

  “I don’t have a choice. There’s a lot to be done.” The waitress drops off our beers and he takes a drink.

  “You’re not working tonight.”

  “Because I had someplac
e better to be.” He holds my hand across the table. “Someone I had to see.”

  “So you’re saying I should hang out with you more so you don’t go into the office so much?”

  “I hadn’t thought about that, but yes, that would work.”

  As he takes another drink of his beer, I glance over at the table next to us where four women around my age are sitting and talking. I do a double-take when I notice they’re all looking at Pearce. Looking at him like they’d like to take him home and, well…do things. They look away when they see me watching them. I scan the rest of the bar and see some other women checking him out. Does this always happen when he goes out?

  Pearce is definitely the hottest guy here, but he’s also with me so these women need to back off. I’m usually not the jealous type, but for whatever reason, I just felt a twinge of jealousy seeing other women look at Pearce that way.

  Pearce doesn’t even notice this is going on. His eyes are on the TV, watching the game, his hand holding mine on the table.

  I rub his hand to get his attention. “So you never told me what you did today. Were you at the office this morning?”

  His eyes shift from the TV back to me. “Yes. I spent the entire day there. What did you do?”

  “I went to my volunteer job from nine to noon, then I worked on a paper that’s due next week.”

  “Where do you volunteer?”

  “I thought I already told you this, but I guess not. Every Saturday I volunteer at a homeless shelter. I teach people how to read. Today I had this older man who—”

  He stops me, his hand gripping my forearm. “What shelter? Where is it?”

  I glance down at my arm. Why is he gripping my arm like that?

  “It’s near downtown, close to the bus station. It’s kind of a run-down area, but I heard the city has plans to fix it up.”

  “Don’t go there anymore.” He uses this strict tone that makes me feel like he’s telling me what to do.

  I don’t like that tone. At all. I already have a controlling mother. I don’t need a controlling boyfriend as well.

  “Pearce, I volunteer there. I have for a year. I’m not going to stop going.”

  “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to tell them you’re done volunteering. I can’t let you go there.”

  “LET me?” I yank my arm away from him. “You don’t get a say in it. And the fact that you think you do makes me wonder if you’re not the man I thought you were.”

  “Rachel, I’m telling you this for your own good. You shouldn’t be going to that part of town.”

  “We’ve been going out for a week and you’re already telling me what to do? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

  “You didn’t have a problem telling me what to wear.” He sits back and motions to himself. “And now look at me. I look ridiculous.”

  I feel my temper rising. “First of all, every guy in here is dressed like you. You would’ve looked ridiculous wearing a shirt and tie. And second, if you didn’t want to wear the clothes I picked out, you could’ve just said no.” I get up and grab my purse. “I need some air.”

  “Rachel, wait!”

  I storm out the door, angry and confused. Why is he trying to control me like this? He hasn’t done this before. This is why I don’t rush into relationships. You think the person is normal, but after a few dates they turn out to be crazy and controlling.

  “Rachel.” Pearce comes out of the restaurant and stands in front of me. “Rachel, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that about the clothes. I like the clothes.”

  “No, you don’t,” I mutter.

  He half smiles. “Okay, maybe not, but you’re right. I would’ve looked strange wearing a tie in a sports bar. Or the movies. And I appreciate the fact that you took the time to help me pick something out. And maybe eventually I’ll come to like these clothes.”

  When I don’t say anything, he continues. “You have to understand, this is all new for me. Movies. Sports bars. Jeans. Shopping malls. It’s a lot of change all at once.”

  My lips creep up. “I did kind of make you do a lot of new stuff in one night. I didn’t realize that. Next time, I’ll just pick one or two new things.”

  He lifts my chin up. “So there’s going to be a next time?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “When you stormed out of there like that, I wasn’t sure.”

  “I’m not good at arguing. If I feel myself getting really angry, I have to leave and calm down before I can talk to the person again. I’ve always been that way.”

  “And I’m the type of person who likes to talk it out and end it as soon as possible.”

  I smile. “That’s going to make for some interesting fights. I’ll leave and you’ll be left talking to yourself.”

  He smiles back. “Yes, I suppose that’s what will happen. But since that’s a very ineffective way to argue, let’s try to avoid letting it get to that point.”

  “Pearce, why did you react that way when I told you I worked at the shelter?”

  “Because it’s not safe and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I only go there during the day. And I’m not alone. There are plenty of people around.”

  “Maybe inside the building, but outside is a different story. I’ve driven through that area. I’ve seen what’s it like. There are drug deals taking place on the street. Men lurking in the alleys. Even the police won’t go there.”

  “What were you doing in that part of town?”

  “I was on the way to meet with one of our distributors and I accidentally made a wrong turn and ended up going down that street where the shelter is.”

  “I know it’s dangerous, but I only go there once a week and I’m making a real difference with those people. The first person I taught to read was a man named Raymond, and now a year later, he can read entire books. It’s changed his life. He has all this confidence now. And he got a job and just moved into an apartment. Do you know how great it feels to be able to help someone like that? When he read his first sentence we were both crying. I still cry when one of my students reads their first sentence.”

  Pearce is smiling at me. “You’re very special, you know that?”

  “I’m not. My students are. You wouldn’t believe the horrible lives they’ve had. But they made it through all that and they’re trying to get a better life by learning to read so they can get a job. And I want to help them do that, which is why I keep going to the shelter.”

  “Maybe you could meet somewhere else. There’s a bus stop at the shelter. They could take the bus to a library and you could meet them there.”

  “Pearce, you need to let this go. I know you’re concerned about me, but you don’t need to be. I can take care of myself. And you need to know right now that you can’t tell me what to do. I can’t be in a relationship like that. You can express your opinions and concerns, but in the end, I’ll make my own decisions.”

  He opens his mouth to say something, but then stops before he does.

  “We should go inside and have dinner,” I tell him. “They probably thought we left.”

  We go back to our table just as our food arrives. After that fight we had, we keep our dinner conversation light. I ask him what he thought of the movie and then we talk about football and watch the game on TV. I feel like I’m on a date with just a normal guy and not a billionaire. Pearce is relaxed and smiling and laughing. In just a week, he’s really loosened up around me. And I like it. I like seeing him not so serious and having fun. He needs that. He needs more fun in his life. And I’m going to make sure that happens.

  “Do you play darts?” I ask Pearce after the waitress clears our plates.

  “I can’t say that I ever have.”

  “Do you think you can handle one more new thing tonight?”

  “I think I could.” He drops some money on the table for the check, then follows me to the dart board.

  I quickly explain the rules and then we start. He struggles on the first game, but gets better i
n the second. And by the third, he’s getting really good.

  “You’re a fast learner.” I step in front of the board for game number four.

  He hugs me from behind and kisses my cheek. “I had a good teacher.”

  That must be true because he wins game four. We make that our last game, then head back to the car.

  Another awesome date. The fight wasn’t good but it was over quickly.

  It’s late, but I don’t want the night to end. And maybe it won’t. I’d kind of like Pearce to finish what he started in my kitchen. This time with both of us enjoying it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  13

  PEARCE

  “Would you like to go my place?” I ask as we’re driving away from the restaurant. “I have cable TV, so consider that before you answer.”

  “Hmm. All those channels are pretty tempting. Do I get to pick what we watch?”

  “Of course. The guest always picks.”

  “Your place is like a half hour away. And then you’ll have to drive me all the way back to my place.”

  I glance at her. “I don’t see the problem here.”

  “It’s just a lot of driving.”

  “I don’t mind. I like driving. But you need to make a decision fast because if we’re going to my place I need to take the next exit.”

  “Okay, let’s go to your place. I’d like to see it. Do you keep it clean or is it messy like the stereotypical bachelor pad?”

  “I have a cleaning staff that comes in, so it’s clean.”

  As we’re driving, I try to figure out what I’m doing. Bringing her back to my place? After a night of nonstop flirting, kissing, and touching? The sexual tension so thick I can feel it in the air? This is going to lead to sex and I told her we would wait. But I know she wants it. After I touched her like that in her kitchen, she was ready to do it right then and there. And as for me, I’ve wanted to have sex with her since the moment I saw her sitting in that lecture hall. I’ve never felt this level of attraction to a woman in my entire life. Every time I’m with her I have to work to hold myself back. So why am I even questioning this? We both want it and we’ve waited long enough. Longer than I’ve ever waited with anyone else.