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I head through the door. He doesn’t have to reach for a kiss. Standing on my tippy-toes, I just give it to him. A simple peck on the lips.

“Got a spare toothbrush?” I ask.

He moves at an angle and points to his room. “Use my bathroom. Top drawer, second row. I set a towel out if you want to shower. Sorry I don’t have a change of clothes.”

“No problem.”

I check the time. We still have a few hours until we have to get going to school. The sizzling scent of bacon snaps me away from my responsibilities.

“I’m making breakfast, by the way. Coffee’s percolating,” he says, charming wink included.

I breathe, nostrils widening to take in more scrumptious scents. “I’ll be out in ten,” I say.

When I step into his room, I make a conscious effort not to be too nosy. Granted, there’s not really much to see. It’s immaculate. The bed is made. The floor looks like it was just cleaned. How is there no dust on the top of the TV?

He can’t be the perfect man. That guy doesn’t really exist. As I push the sliding door to his bathroom open, I hope I’m wrong. Can I call a bathroom sexy? Well, his sure is.

This bathroom is nicer than the one I’ve been using in the hall, that’s for sure. The toilet is one of those European bidets. Dare I try it?

After drying off, I use a very effective blow dryer to give my hair some much needed shine and volume. I gather all my things, a small makeup kit, my favorite mascara, and other beauty products I carry around but hardly ever use. Leaning against the sink, I look at my reflection and smile. I feel ready for anything, but I’m really thinking about Marc now.

What makes him tick? What does he like? What does he even do for fun, anyway?

These are questions I’m asking myself as I brush mascara across my eyelashes. Some added contour, something I usually skip over. Adding some lipstick, I kiss at the mirror and almost immediately blush. It’s been a long time since I felt like I had to act sexy. It’s going to take some getting used to.

Gold hoops add a little spice. A green emerald necklace gives me some mystery. Heart stockings bring the perfect amount of sparkle to accentuate my dress. The more things I add, the more confident I feel.

Shooting a glance at the locked bathroom door, I lower the towel. Right to the floor. I let it linger around my ankles before taking another step back to see me. All of me.

When I stare at my body, I don’t necessarily feel sexy. I’ve gotten a little thick around the edges, but mostly, I’m my usual, average self. At first glance, I feel like running and hiding in a different outfit. Guys don’t want the usual. They want the shiny version.

I suck in my stomach and turn, accenting my butt by bending at an angle. I actually start to get into it, feeling myself out. Feeling really sexy. I’m bent in the most uncomfortable position imaginable, but if this is what men want, I’m going to do it.

Standing for a moment, I dim the lights. I imagine Marc entering the room, his hands bringing his warmth across my skin. I smile as his hand grasps my hip, pushing me against his pelvis, twisting his fingers against mine. I see his eyes, and can’t resist him.

A quick knock comes from the hallway. “Ali, your plate of food is coming up next,” Marc calls out. “Five minutes.”

Anxious and shocked to my core, I slip, ass landing right on the tile floor. The pain reverberates through up my spine. “Almost ready,” I croak.

“Take your time.”

Ouch. My beautiful ass.

Quick check in the mirror. Another kiss to make myself feel more confident. Deep breath. I throw my clothes on and get the hell out of his perfect bathroom.

My heels hit the tile, and all eyes turn to me.

Marc’s eyes go big, and he stammers through his words. A perfectly cracked egg dangles between two fingers. The yolk plops in the center of the pan. “Wow... You look absolutely stunning.”

The shiny version.

“Just a little makeup for Valentine’s Day,” I say. “Nothing too special.”

Downplay it to look even shinier.

He blinks three times. “I’m about to get down on one knee,” he jokes.

I look down and blush. “Thank you.”

Sitting at the table, Sammy eats her breakfast. She’s wearing a red corduroy overall dress with a matching beret. She looks adorable. Hopefully her mood stays in the green.

Glancing at the bacon grease stains on his white undershirt, he grabs a wet towel and starts to nudge at it. “I didn’t know everyone was dressing up today.”

Sammy zooms past me to her room. “Backpack!”

I lower my voice. “How is she?” I ask

He looks back, a little uneasy as he hands me a cup of coffee and hot plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. “So far, so good,” he says. “It can change at any moment, though. If she acts out, send her outside for a few minutes. That usually does the trick. I had a talk with her this morning. She knows not to act up.”

Blowing the steam off the top of my coffee mug, I hang my lips over the edge and impatiently sip. I burn my tongue, but it’s worth it. The coffee is really good. Glancing at the bag, I see expensive packaging, gold lettering punched in from a vintage typewriter. The name is foreign and hard to pronounce.

“In any case, I’m keeping it low pressure. It’s a half-day. We’re going to watch a Peanuts cartoon, while we give out our letters.”

Marc scrunches his nose. “Charlie Brown?”

Charlie Brown was one of my favorite cartoons growing up. Don’t ask why. “Hey, what’s wrong with good ol’ Charlie?” I ask.

“What year is it again?”

“Okay, cool guy. What would you suggest we watch?” I ask.

“The Sandlot,” he says. “That was my favorite movie growing up.”

It makes me laugh

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