Linda sighed in satisfaction as she wiped her hands on a towel, surveying her now spotless apartment. The living room sparkled, her curtains smelled freshly laundered, and even the tiny speck of dust she'd missed the week before was gone.
She slumped onto her couch, allowing herself a brief moment of rest before glancing at the clock. It was almost 1 PM, and Chris was due in an hour. Her stomach twisted—not from nerves, of course. It was just lunch with Chris, after all.
The aroma of jollof rice wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of fried plantains she had finished just minutes ago. She stood and smoothed her dress, checking the kitchen one last time to make sure everything was perfect.
At exactly 2 PM, the knock came. Linda's heart leapt slightly, but she shook it off, heading to the door with a steady breath.
Chris stood there, dressed casually in jeans and a fitted shirt that somehow made him look like he'd walked out of a magazine. He held a bouquet of lilies in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
"Hey, Linds," he said with a boyish grin. "Hope I'm not late."
Linda smiled, stepping aside. "Right on time. Come in."
Chris handed her the flowers. "Thought these would brighten your place a little. Not that it needs it—it already smells amazing in here."
Linda laughed softly. "Thanks. Make yourself comfortable while I grab a vase."
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The meal was lively, filled with teasing and laughter as they sat across from each other at the small dining table. Chris, true to form, made a show of praising her cooking.
"Linda, this rice," he said dramatically, holding up a forkful, "is the stuff dreams are made of. I might have to start dropping by your shop daily just for the leftovers."
Linda rolled her eyes, laughing. "Don't flatter me, Chris. It's not that serious."
"No, seriously," Chris said, pointing his fork at her. "If you ever decide to stop running your shop, you could easily open a restaurant. You'd have lines out the door."
"Great. So now I'm running a fashion designer shop and a restaurant? What's next, Chris? A construction company?"
Chris chuckled. "Hey, I'm just saying—you've got options."
Linda shook her head, but she couldn't help smiling. His easy charm always had a way of making her feel lighter.
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After they finished eating, Linda began clearing the plates, but Chris stood, grabbing a dish towel.
"Let me help," he said.
"You're a guest, Chris. Sit down."
He smirked, grabbing a plate from her hand" me? A guest? Have you forgotten I once slept over here?
Linda rolled her eyes but let him follow her into the kitchen. As she rinsed the plates, he stood beside her, drying them and cracking jokes about her perfectly organized cabinets.
"Do you have an alphabetized system for these plates too?" he teased, opening one of the cupboards.
Linda snorted. "No, but now that you've mentioned it, maybe I should."
They were both laughing when Linda stepped back to grab another plate and her foot caught on a stray towel. She yelped, stumbling slightly, and Chris reacted instantly, catching her by the waist.
"Whoa, careful!" he said, his hands steadying her.
Linda froze in his arms, her heart pounding as she looked up at him. His face was just inches from hers, and for a moment, the playful atmosphere evaporated.
Chris's gaze softened, his eyes flicking between hers and her lips. Linda swallowed, her pulse racing. She wasn't sure if it was the lingering warmth of his hands on her waist or the way the air between them felt heavy, but she couldn't move.
Chris leaned in slightly, his breath brushing her cheek, and Linda felt herself leaning too
Suddenly, a loud crash came from outside, jolting them apart.
"What was that?" Linda asked, stepping back quickly and looking toward the window.
Chris sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Probably your neighbor. Sounded like someone knocked over their trash bins.
Linda peeked through the curtain and, sure enough, her neighbor across the hall was apologizing profusely to a delivery man whose cart had tipped over. She turned back to Chris, her cheeks warm.
"Looks like it's nothing," she said quickly, grabbing the towel again.
Chris chuckled softly, picking up a glass to dry, Lucky timing, huh?
Linda's heart was still pounding, but she forced a smile. "Yeah. Lucky."
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As they finished cleaning up, Chris glanced at the time.
"Well, I'd better get going," he said, his voice light but his eyes lingering on her. "I've taken up enough of your day."
Linda shook her head. "Not at all. You're welcome anytime."
Chris smiled. "Careful, Linds. I might take you up on that."
Linda laughed softly, walking him to the door. As he stepped out, Chris turned back.
"Oh, and about that date?" he said, his voice teasing.
Linda raised an eyebrow. "Date?"
Chris grinned. "Next Sunday. This time around, it's my place.
Linda rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her chest surprised her. "We'll see. Drive safe, Chris."
As she closed the door behind him, Linda leaned against it, her thoughts swirling. She couldn't deny it anymore—Chris wasn't just getting under her skin. He was already there.