Leo

I knock on the door and after knocking the second time, the door to Josephine's apartment opens.

No words leave my mouth as I take Josephine in.

So far, I've seen her in her scrubs, in a dress, in shorts and t-shirt and in lounge wear. But her wearing a tight black dress, with a neckline that dips a little towards her cleavage and the hem reaching the middle of her shins with a split up her left thigh; she looks so fucking beautiful.

"You're early." She leaves me standing on the threshold as she goes back to her bedroom. I close the door and follow her.

"I said I'll be here at seven thirty."

"No. You said eight." She sits on her vanity and grabs a makeup brush. "I still have thirty minutes to get ready."

"I said seven thirty, but it's no problem." I take a seat at the foot of her bed and watch her in the mirror as she applies something pinkish to her cheeks. Blush, I guess it's called.

"I only have to do my makeup and wear my heels." She says as she applies mascara.

"You don't need makeup." I say. "You're naturally beautiful."

"I know. But I Googled the name of the restaurant you're taking me to, and Beyoncé eats there!"

"Who's Beyoncé?" I joke but my voice makes it sound like I'm not.

She turns around and gapes at me. "Please tell me you're joking. I really can't tell with your poker face."

I crack a smile. "I'm joking."

"Good." She nods and turns around to continue with her makeup application. "Otherwise I would've had to terminate this friendship."

I feel a burst of pride bubble in my chest at her use of 'friendship'. Look at me, making a friend. All on my own.

"Candy wanted to go there once but when she told them her name, they said, 'sorry, you don't seem to be in our system and therefore we aren't able to reserve you a table.'" She shakes her head and grabs another product. "What assholes."

"You need connections to go there." I say.

"How were you able to get us a table?"

"I have my connections." I shrug. When your cousin is a famous club owner, it can get you into such places.

She puts on lipstick. I can see it through the mirror. It's a fiery red color. It contrasts with her dark hair and black dress.

Fluffing her wavy hair, she stands up, grabs her heels, then sits back down to put them on. This time, when she gets to her feet, she's a few inches taller.

The dress looks killer on her. Its simplicity is really sexy. It's all black, even her shoes. All except for the red lipstick that I want to smear off her lips.

"You look incredible." I say, my voice low.

"Thank you." She beams at me and grabs her purse. "You clean up well as well." She gestures to my suit.

I borrowed it from Antonio. And it's all dark gray with a white button down. He almost got mad at me when I told him it's a bit too tight on me, insinuating I have more muscles than him. Which is true. But he refused to believe me. He even called his wife and asked whose arms are bigger. Of course she said his and kissed him before going back to a work call. He puffed his chest afterwards and gave me a smug smile. But whatever. I know I'm bigger and stronger than him, and I don't need someone else to tell me so.

"Shall we?" I ask, then follow her to her front door. "You're not gonna bring a jacket?" I notice she didn't bring one.

She gives me a look. "We're in Miami and it's almost August. Of course I'm not gonna bring a jacket."

I nod and we descend the stairs together. She's right, Miami in July can sometimes be hell. But it can also be unpredictable at times and rain. But she's lived here since birth, so she's used to how Miami weather behaves. I open the passenger door for her when we reach my truck.

She sets her purse on the seat so she readies herself for me to grab her and help her inside the car.

My hands grip her waist and one of her hands lands on my forearm and the other on the edge of the seat. I hoist her up and she sits. I could easily press a button and the running boards will pop out where she can put her foot to hoist herself up. But me helping her up my truck has been something I enjoy doing.

"Well, thank you." She smiles and doesn't try to fasten her seatbelt, waiting for me to do it.

And I eagerly comply. My fingertips graze her hip and a little tingle runs up my arm.

Being close to her, the scent of her shampoo and just her filling my senses. All I want is to inhale as deeply as possible.

But I don't do that, instead I get behind the wheel and start the car up, pulling away from the parking spot.

"Well, this is quite romantic." She muses, running her palms across the leather of the seat.

"The truck?" I ask, a little confused.

"Yeah, it's like the ones they always use in romance movies. There's no console so the girl always scoots to the boy and they, like, cuddle while he drives."

She paints a good image. One where the 'girl' in the movie is her and the 'boy' is me.

"This thing is older than my dad. There's nothing romantic about it." I say to deflect my mind from conjuring up images where she's doing more than cuddling me. She's my friend. I shouldn't think like that about her.

"And the bed?"

I peek a glance at her.

"What about it?"

"The couple in the film always go stargazing while there's a million pillows and blankets. It's all warm and cuddly." She hugs herself.

I chuckle. "Remind me to bring pillows and blankets next time so you're all warm." I turn on the radio and of course what's playing is some romantic country song.

Our eyes meet and we both laugh.

•••

After helping Josephine out of the truck, I rest my palm on her lower back as we walk to the restaurant after handing the valet the keys to my car.

There's literally a red carpet and golden bars on either side.

"I feel like Beyoncé right now." Josephine leans into me to whisper excitedly.

"Wait till you see the inside." I whisper back.

We enter 'Ocean Prime' and the interior is just as extravagant as the exterior. The theme is golden with a hint of blue to represent the ocean and the seafood they serve. The ceiling is high and the tables are a few meters away from each other, making the place look humongous.

"Oh, my god." Josephine murmurs to herself. My hand slides to her waist when she mindlessly sways towards the biggest fish tank I've ever seen near the entrance.

A hostess nears us with a tablet. "Welcome to Ocean Prime." She has the biggest smile on. "Under what name is your reservation?"

"Monaro." I answer, handing her my ID.

"Table for two." She confirms, giving my card back. "If you would follow me?" She leads us to a table near the back, like I requested, where the view of the ocean is spectacular—especially at night time.

After we're seated, I give Josephine a few moments to absorb her surroundings. This is probably—if not—the most ornate restaurant in Miami.

"Leo." She whispers, as if afraid she'll break the glass vase in the middle of our table if she talks in a regular tone. "This place is...wow."

"I rarely eat out in these kinds of restaurants, but this one doesn't serve you a bite and calls it a meal, like most fancy places do."

"I sure hope so. I haven't eaten since four and I'm starting to get really hungry."

A server appears at our table. "Can I get you started with a drink?" He smiles at Josephine.

"Um." She quickly grabs the drinks menu and scans it. "A glass of Sangiovese, please."

I don't think she chose one of the few Italian wines on the menu by accident. It's probably the only one she can pronounce, as the rest are all French.

"Excellent choice." He nods. It is an excellent choice but they say that to whatever you choose. "And you, sir?"

"I'll have the same. Thank you."

He walks away, and Josephine slowly closes the menu. "I have no idea what type of drink that was." She giggles softly.

"It's a dry red wine." I explain.

We chat a little while drinking our Sangiovese wine. She tells me about her work this week and how one patient, who's a nice older lady, asked if Josie would sit with her while she ate and watched her tv show.

Josephine tells me she sat down with her and had to watch an entire hour of a black and white silent show.

"It was the most boring hour of my life." She laughs. "Every time I tried to make conversation, she shushed me."

"Now you know to stay away from her room during lunch break."

"Oh, yeah." She nods and swallows the last sip of her wine. Her cheeks have become a little flushed.

"So, when can we order the real meal?" She asks in a low tone. We've already eaten our appetizers. Caviar. She didn't really like it at first, but it grew on her with every small bite she took. I'm not a big fan of caviar myself, but I enjoyed seeing Josephine devour my portion as well.

"You know what you want?" I ask her.

"Let's see." She looks at the menu, but I keep my eyes on her, watching how her teeth sink into her lower lip as she concentrates on the meals written.

I pretend to push my chair forward so I can adjust myself. I'm not sure how much longer I can take it, being face to face with her and having to control myself. This is the first time I have had a problem with someone. A friend. Fuck, I need to get myself and my mind under control.

"What is," she points at a meal with her finger as she reads in a mock French accent. "'Coq au vin.'"

"Something with chicken." I manage to get out. The word coq sounds like 'cock' coming from her mouth. "But since they're known for their seafood, I'd get some type of fish."

"Hmm." She closes the menu and looks at me through her lashes. "Why don't you just choose something for me?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I pretty much eat everything." She shrugs. "So go wild."

I order us two different fish meals so we can taste from each other and another glass of wine for Josephine.

"So," she says after swallowing her bite of crabfish. She approved of what I got for her, but she tasted my bluefin tuna dish, too. Which she also likes. "What would you be doing if you didn't join the army?"

Her question slightly surprises me. Because I've never thought about it myself.

"Honestly, no idea." I say. "The reason I joined was because I didn't know what to do after high school."

"What was your dream job growing up, then?"

"Um," I lean back to think. "I've always liked cars and watched Formula 1. So I'd say an F1 racer."

"That's really cool." She nods. "And you can still do it, too."

I shake my head. "I'm not sure about that."

She takes hold of my hand on top of the table and firmly encircles her smaller fingers around my bigger ones.

"Yes, you can." She gazes at me. "You just need a little training. And since you're filthy rich, you don't even need sponsors. Just sponsor yourself."

My fingers tighten around her as I tell her something not many people know about me. "I don't want to only race cars, though. I'm more intrigued by the mechanics of the car itself. The truck I drive now, when it used to be my uncle's, he got into an accident and it got pretty banged up. It was me who fixed it while I was here."

My family thinks I did it because I had nothing better to do, but I fixed the vehicle because I liked doing it.

"It's in really good shape, from my little knowledge about cars. So I'd say you're pretty good at what you do." Her smile is encouraging.

"I am." I say, proudly.

She grins at me; her smile full of light and hope. Two things I never let myself think too much about.

I raise our clasped hands and plant a soft kiss on her knuckles.

•••

"I was pretty full after the main course," Josephine says and palms her stomach. "But I would've been an idiot if I didn't get a dessert. And I'm glad I did. It was amazing." She sings.

I chuckle and rest my hand on her lower back as we exit the restaurant.

"We can take a walk if you want." I suggest. Mostly for selfish reasons, because I don't want this night to end just yet. "The scenery is amazing."

"Sure."

I go in the direction of where I know not many people will be present. Even though I don't mind people when I go for walks, as I like to sit down and people-watch, I know at this time of day the street will be bussing with locals and tourists.

The restaurant is behind us, and the sound of chatter is fading into the background. My mind drifts, thoughts about my future and what my next step is. I can get called back to duty any minute now.

My conversation with Josephine during dinner made me believe I can pursue what I want. I'm not going to stay in the army forever. I want a normal life, a two-story house with a white picket fence. Maybe a dog too. I want what my parents and brother have. A house, a job and, most importantly, a partner.

What will my partner look like? What would she do for a living? Is she the quiet type like me or the opposite? She'd do all the talking while I listen intently. She'd smile at me whenever our eyes meet and I would return the smile. We would sneak away during parties and family dinners to have a quick make-out session—that could possibly lead into more.

She would ask me questions no one dares to ask and she would know my deepest secrets.

She would be my shoulder to lean on.

She would be the mother of my children.

I want all that.

Josephine shudders next to me, and I glance at her.

"Are you cold?"

She has her arms crossed, and she tilts her head to peer at me. "What? No, I'm not cold."

Her arms have goosebumps all over them. It's clear she's cold, but she doesn't want to admit that since I told her to bring a jacket and she refused.

"Here." We stop walking and I take off my suit jacket and hold it to her so she can put her arms through the holes. "This will keep you nice and warm."

I stand in front of her and pull the jacket up to her shoulders. The look she's giving me tells me exactly what I need to know. To not tell her 'I told you so'. And I want to say that so much, but my smug smile says it all.

She rolls her eyes, but then she cracks a smile and chuckles. My smile expands into a grin.

I remove her hair from inside the jacket and smooth out the strands while she peeks at me through her dark lashes. Her gaze has something hot in it.

My fingers rest on the side of her nape, my thumb barely touching her jaw.

She's so fucking beautiful I wonder how she's still single. How could any man or woman walk past her and not want to get to know her better?

She's the only person who doesn't look at me with pity when I talk about how I have no idea what I'm gonna do in the future. She doesn't mind that I don't talk much. She doesn't care that I don't have a lot of friends, that I can barely text. She accepts me for all I am.

My thumb moves across her jaw, her skin like liquid silk against the pad of my finger. I wonder if she's as soft everywhere. I bet she is.

My eyes move to her lips to find her softly biting her bottom one. The red lipstick has faded a little from eating and drinking, and I want to remove the rest with my tongue.

She's become a really good friend of mine in a short amount of time and I'm sure if I kiss her right here and right now, it will change things. For better or worse, I'm not sure.

And I don't think I want to take the risk. Not now, at least.

So I do the next best thing. I peck her forehead, swing an arm over her shoulders, tugging her to me, and we walk.

• ••• •

A/N:

I can sense a little tension ... 👀😂