Thirty and Single.

Chapter 23.

"Green! Green! Please wait for me."

I heard Colton calling out, but I kept walking, pretending I hadn't heard him. It had been months since he started asking me out, and he hadn't given up. I guess this was his way of proving he meant it.

"Green, Goddamn it!" he yelled.

I stopped in my tracks and turned around sharply.

"What?" I asked, more annoyed than curious.

"Meet me at seven. Sharp."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because it's a date," he said simply. "I'll pick you up at six-thirty."

And just like that, he turned and walked off.

A date? Colton Zachary was finally taking me on a date? The thought bloomed in my chest and, despite myself, I smiled.

I stepped into the elevator, and just before the doors closed, Corey and a woman I vaguely recognized from the IT department walked in, hand in hand. Our eyes met, and I could see the momentary discomfort on his face.

"Genesis, I hope you're well," he said, clearing his throat.

"I'm fine," I replied politely.

"Baby, who is she?" the woman asked him.

He glanced at me and muttered, "Just someone from my past."

Without hesitation, the woman pulled Corey into a passionate kiss, right there in the elevator. I pressed the ground floor button and stood still as they continued their make-out session beside me.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, I walked out briskly and left them behind.

When I got home, I took my time getting ready. I did my hair and makeup—thank you, YouTube, and picked out a dress that made me feel both comfortable and beautiful. I was nervous. The thought of being on a date with Colton Zachary made my stomach flutter.

At 6:25, there was a knock on the door.

I knew it was him. I glanced at myself one last time in the mirror, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

He stood there in a crisp white shirt and dark blue pants. His hair was still damp, and he smelled incredible. I stared at him, speechless.

He smiled and pulled me into a hug, warm and grounding, then placed a kiss on my temple.

"You look beautiful," he whispered.

"Thank you," I said, my voice quiet and shy.

The drive was silent, but comfortable. He kept glancing at me when he thought I wasn't looking.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

He took my hand and said, "It's a surprise. I don't want to ruin it."

"Just a hint?" I tried again.

He looked at me, kissed the back of my hand, and smiled. "We're almost there."

Five minutes later, we parked at a quiet park. Colton got out, walked around to open my door, and then pulled some blankets and a camera from the backseat.

"Let's go this way," he said, holding out his hand.

I followed him through a path lit by small fairy lights until we reached a tent glowing softly. It looked magical.

"Ladies first," he said, holding the flap open.

Inside, the tent was cozy and romantic. Bottles of wine and champagne sat beside a basket of food, and a projector was set up across from a thick blanket and pillows.

"Wine or champagne?" he asked.

"Wine, please."

He poured a glass and handed it to me. I took a sip—smooth and sweet.

"This is really good," I said, impressed.

He smiled, picked up his camera, and started snapping pictures of me.

"Stop," I laughed. "You're embarrassing me."

"I can't help it," he grinned. "You're beautiful."

We ate, we drank, and we watched movies under the stars.

"How long did it take you to plan all this?" I asked.

He took a sip of his wine and shrugged. "A couple of days."

His eyes locked with mine. Then he leaned in and kissed me.

The kiss was slow, deliberate. He didn't need to say anything, his kiss told me everything. That he wanted me. That he meant this. That it was real.

Our hands explored, our breaths mingled. I ran my fingers through his hair. He held me like I was something precious. It felt perfect. We felt perfect.

I pulled away, breathing hard. He was panting too, and smiled at me.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Why?" I whispered back.

"Because I didn't treat you the way you deserved to be treated."

"And how do I deserve to be treated?"

"Like a queen. Because you are one."

I kissed him again, this time deeper, hungrier.

I closed my eyes and surrendered to the feeling, his lips trailing along my neck, his fingers tracing down my back. His touch ignited something in me, something raw and hungry.

He held me close, lifted me effortlessly. The world faded away, there was no gravity anymore, only heat and motion. His hands, his mouth, his breath, every part of him wrapped around me.

I turned in his arms, aching for more. I didn't want the moment to end. I didn't want to sleep. I wanted the ache. I wanted him—all of him.

I climbed on top of him, something I'd never done before. It felt bold, new, and liberating. I looked into his eyes as I guided him into me. The sensation was overwhelming, electric.

He gasped, gripping my waist. I held his hands down, kissed his earlobe, and felt him lose control. We moved together like a perfect rhythm, fitting into each other like pieces of a puzzle.

It wasn't just desire, it was something more. A connection. A fire. A promise.