Wrong for Me

07|feed me

NAOMI COLE—JUNE

WE STEPPED INTO THE cool and fragrant record store and I instantly felt like I was in heaven. Rows upon rows were filled with boxes of records filled to the brim. Incense was being burnt over the front door, the wonderful smell of lemongrass filling our senses as soon as we crossed the threshold.

"We talk a lot about me liking music," I started, turning to face Dante whose eyes were already on me. Just looking up into those brown orbs of his made butterflies fill my stomach. "But what kind of music do you like?"

I watched as his mouth quirked up into a smirk and I just knew he was going to say something flirty. He wasn't very good at hiding his intentions.

"Whatever it is you keep singing. I like that."

"Hmm," I hummed, turning to face away from him as I felt myself flush. I was not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had me over here all flustered. "How did I know you were gonna say something like that?"

Instead of responding, I watched as he stopped in front of one of the boxes and lifted out a record that must have caught his eye.

"The Backstreet Boys?" I questioned incredulously, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Don't tell me that's what you listen to."

"Here you go again," he muttered, pointing a finger at me accusingly although the amused look on his face gave off the complete opposite impression. "Music shaming now, Naomi?"

I groaned and rolled my eyes at his words as a chuckle boomed from him. Our eyes locked as I held back the smile growing on my face to no avail. This guy was having better comebacks than I was!

"But no, I don't like The Backstreet Boys. My little sister used to force me to listen to their music with her and learn the dances."

"That sounds horrendous. I'm sorry you had to go through that Dante."

We continued down the rows until we stopped in front of the section I had been looking for. Skimming through, I finally picked up the album I had been looking for with a grin on my face.

"Were you even alive when that came out?" He scoffed as he took the Nirvana album from my hands. Gently, that is.

"No, but I thoroughly enjoyed it," I replied, snatching it back from him with a smirk on my face. "What were you, like six when it came out?"

"Eleven."

Damn. As much as I didn't want to think about, the age gap between us was so apparent. The guy was literally fifteen when I born for crying out loud. The thing that always made me overlook that however, was that we were both two consenting adults and I really enjoyed his company so far. His attractiveness was definitely an added plus.

We continued walking through the store, stopping at almost every single section and sharing banter about music and artists. I was surprised that we had a lot in common in relation to our taste in music. By the time we were done, I had picked out three records while he stuck to two—a Stevie Wonder one and one Pearl Jam. Complete opposites.

"That'll be $120," the girl behind the cash register spoke in a monotone voice as Dante reached to hand her his card.

"Let's split it," I demanded, pushing his hand away before she could grab the card. "I'll pay for my own."

Dante turned to face me with that smirk and amused expression that seemed to be his trademark.

"Are you this difficult all the time, Naomi?"

"Difficult?" I questioned quite loudly as I moved to cross my arms and furrowed my eyebrows. Nothing about me was difficult and if anything, I was being a wonderful person for wanting to pay for my own things. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He chuckled at my words, clearly not phased by my expression as he replied with, "I'm supposed to be courting you, but you're making it very hard by always offering to pay for everything."

My tense expression melted as his words and I let my arms fall back to my sides. I was being difficult. This guy was trying to impress me—just as I was trying to do for him—and I was quite literally hindering him.

"Oh," I murmured as he handed the cashier his card to swipe while he looked at me out of the side of his eyes.

"Thank you so much," He spoke to the cashier before I followed him out of the store and back out into the humidity. Straightening my hair today was a bad idea.

"Wow, we were in there for an hour," I remarked as I looked down at my phone to see the time, two texts from Veronica, and a message from some guy I met on tinder. He would have to wait.

"You hungry?" Dante inquired, suddenly reaching out to grab my wrist and pull me towards him as a man not paying attention almost plowed into me. "Asshole," he muttered under his breath.

Okay sure, it was a little dumb of me to be so flattered by this guy saving me from yet another catastrophe. It was basic human decency. But it may have also been the fact that I craved physical contact in any aspect—clearly including a grip of the wrist. I was very obviously going a bit crazy.

"I am...yeah," I breathed out, gaining the courage to look back up into those mahogany eyes that were already staring down at me.

He seemed to always have his eyes on me.

"Let's go."

***
WHEN DANTE LED ME down the street to get lunch, I hadn't expected him to take me to a park near the university filled with a bunch of food trucks. But I definitely didn't mind.

"You've never seen this place?" He questioned as I stayed close to his side as we pushed through the throng of people. This place must have been popular.

"No and I'm surprised. I like to refer to myself as a know-it-all, but you got me this time Dante."

He responded to my words with just a simple shake of his head before we began to looking at all the trucks to decide what he wanted. Of course, he knew that he wanted a burger by the time we reached our third truck, but I could not make my mind up.

"Can we walk down one more time?" I asked, gritting my teeth as I hoped he wasn't getting completely annoyed by me. I was acting quite childish in my own opinion.

"No," he retorted, turning to face me with a serious expression on his face. I would be worried about what he had to say next if I wasn't so enamored by his chiseled jawline and those hallowed cheeks of his. "We're settling this right now. You're getting the Mexican food."

He grabbed my wrist—just as gently as he had before—and pulled me towards the truck as I protested.

"Your mouth practically watered every time we passed this place." He sent me a smirk over his shoulder as I glared at him—I didn't meant it of course. "You're getting this."

"Fine," I conceded, letting a sly grin grow on my face before I said my next words. "Are you gonna feed me too?"

"You're too much."

Finally, I placed my order for a bowl at the Mexican truck and then we were off to find a seat at one of the many picnic benches that were sprawled around the park. Both of us were clearly hungry, as we remained silent while we dug into our food.

"Maybe I need to start consulting you when it comes to food because this is delicious," I practically moaned on my second bite, watching the way his eyes flashed up to me for a second—his eyes quite wide. Okay, maybe the moan wasn't good idea. "Good choice, Dante."

Changing the topic I added, "But now...it's time for the hard hitting questions."

"And that would be?"

"We only know the most basic aspects of each other's lives. We need to go more in depth," I replied hesitantly, hoping this wasn't too much for him. I mean, this was a date right? And that's the type of things you ask on dates.

"Ask away, sweetheart."