The 18th Floor

Chapter Forty One

Its Saturday morning and the January blues are in full swing, with the rain pouring down hell above London. Lucien told me yesterday he would come at around 5 to pick me up for our first date. He hasn't told me what we're doing, just to dress casually. Despite everything that has already transpired between us, I can't help but have first date nerves.

Dad seems happy about what is happening between me and Lucien, but like Simon, told me to be careful, not just for my job on the line but also my heart. Which is very valid but I just want to live in the now. I want to enjoy what is happening between us without having to think of the consequences, the what ifs. I'm tired of overthinking, I want something good in my life for once and I feel like Lucien is that goodness.

At around 3, I start to get ready and I've opted for a pair of black mom jeans and a green cable knit sweater, paired with some trainers. I put on a trench coat with the weather still cold, and wrap a scarf around my neck. I can never feel the cold that hits my legs, so I always make sure to dress up warm to avoid catching colds.

Dads gone out to the pub with Dylan, so I'm sat by myself in the kitchen watching out the window waiting for Lucien to pull in with a coffee in my hands.

After 15 minutes, bang on time at 5, I hear his car pull up and door open and shut. By the time I reach the door, the bell rings and I open the door to him standing there in the rain with a smile on his face, but what catches my attention is the bouquet in his hands. He's wearing a pair of blue jeans with a grey hoodie and a plaid jacket on top. I can't help but notice the caps he has also started wearing out of office hours after I once mentioned I liked hats.

"Hi."

"Hi", I smile back.

"These are for you", he says as he extends the bunch of sunflowers and I accept them like a giddy school girl going on her first date. I take them over to the kitchen and put them in a vase with him watching leaning against the door frame.

"Are you ready to go?"

I nod and before I can say or do anything else, he scoops me up and carries me over to the car quickly, trying to avoid us getting wet.

"Don't want your wheels to get wet", he says to me as I look up at him.

I can't help but roll my eyes and laugh, as I plant a kiss on his lips as he puts me down in the seat. He goes back to get my wheelchair left in the doorway and I hand him my keys so he can lock my front door too.

"We're here", he smiles after 40 minutes of driving.

As we get out the car, the rain has stopped and we make our way to what looks like a restaurant. Before I know what's happening, I find my left hand in his.

"Are you comfortable like this?", he stops to ask.

"Yes", I smile back, as he carries on walking, using the momentum from his pull to help me push the wheelchair with my other free hand.

He opens the door for me and we enter what is a massive restaurant on the right side, with the left side occupying several kitchen island units back to back. I turn to him confused.

"We will be making our own pasta, and then going over there to sit and eat", he says proudly. "Because it was the first meal we had together at mine." I can't help the smile that blooms over my face.

"I love it", I say, as he leans down for a kiss.

We get guided over to our stations, a good level height for me to use sitting down. There are three units per row, with four more rows behind me, around 10 other couples, whether it be friends or couples, all here to learn to make pasta. At the front of the room there is another larger unit, with a screen behind for the chef to show in the steps to follow.

Our ingredients are set out across our table top, with a printed recipe to also follow along. The chef arrives a few moments later and before I know it, we get lost in the process of making pasta. Playfully arguing over who has the better skills and taking it in turns to share the process.

Completely oblivious to time, we find ourselves plating up our pasta and being guided to our seats on the restaurant side, as the next batch eager guests that want to make pasta make their way in.

"This has turned out a lot better than I expected", I say to Lucien, after a few mouthfuls.

"I never doubted your abilities", he says.

"I never doubted mine either, it was yours I doubted", I tease.

"If I remember correctly, you munched all your pasta when you came over the first time."

"I was hungry and had no other option, I took what I could get", I laugh back. We fall into our easy conversation and relax in the light atmosphere of the restaurant. I can't help but smile every time I look at him. Take him in. His soft brown eyes look too fragile above his deep dark bags.

They have gotten lighter in the past week, but it pains me to know what he is battling inside his head. But when he smiles, I know its genuine. It reaches his eyes and lets the small dimples he has shown. The little scar above his eye brow creases every time he laughs, and when he does, it's a sound I hope I can always get from him.

I realise I've always found Lucien attractive, from the moment I saw him, but I didn't like him the way I do now till much later on. When I saw the little things he would do for me, the conversations we would have, the light and easy friendship we built. I can't stop thinking about how my first boss might also be my first love.

It is not my first relationship in life, but I wouldn't count anything from college a real relationship and anything I had after was either a fling or what felt like a pity fuck. But with Lucien, it feels real and it makes me happy.

Before I know it, he's paying for the bill and we start making our way back to the car.

"Thank you", I say as he starts gets into his seat. He turns to me and leans in for a kiss, smelling of fresh pasta and his usual musky scent. He goes to pull away, but I bring him back in, wrapping my hands around his neck.

"You're welcome" he says back, "but we're not done for the night."

"We're not?"

"If you're down, we go to my place."

"How down do you need me to go?"

"Cyrene, my love, oh why you do this to me in public I will never know", he says, going back in for a kiss.

My hands wonder down his chest to where I start to feel a bulge. Before I can explore any further, his hands pull mine away, as he whispers to me breathlessly, "at my place."

I kiss him back a yes.