Breakout

Chapter 8

"Zac," Fatima mumbled, shifting her weight from her right foot to her left. "Can you stop staring at me like that?"

He leaned into the doorframe of her bedroom and continued to stare down at her, a grin on his face.

"You look beautiful, Ti," he said, eyes moving down her frame and then up again. "I'm feeling the pink."

"I think you have the wrong idea of how dates work." She crossed her arms and shot him a playful glare. "You're supposed to knock, not use that key I gave you. And you can't just walk up here like you own the place."

Fatima tried her best to keep a straight face but failed miserably. Smiling, she allowed her gaze to take in his laid-back attire. Dark jeans, a long-sleeve black t-shirt, and Jordans never looked this good on someone until now. It wasn't his attire, though; it was the confident man who donned the threads that did it for her. He knew he looked good and didn't need a soul to tell him that.

"You look nice too," She said, lifting her gaze to meet his and then placing it on the timepiece wrapped around his wrist. "Is that the one I bought you?"

He lifted his hand and stared at it. "You already know,"

He called the black and silver Audemars Piguet watch his lucky charm. She'd given it to him when he started his company, and it was a fixture on his wrist whenever he was making a big pitch.

"What you trying to pitch yourself or something?" she teased.

Zac stepped closer, his hand lifting her chin. "If I have to." His thumb grazed her jaw, and she tried to stifle a shiver. His touch was like velvet against her skin. "I'm ready whenever you are."

"Yep, I'm ready," she whispered, moving away to grab her purse and phone. "But please, can we grab some food first?"

He chuckled as they headed downstairs and out the front door. "You thought I'd let you starve? What kind of date do you think this is?"

Grinning, she made her way to his sports car – a rare sight. "You're going all out, huh?"

"Yep, figured you'd appreciate the effort," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I know how much you love this car."

Raising an eyebrow, she shot him a playful look over her shoulder. "You gon tell me where we're going?"

He laughed opening the door for her. "Ain't you the one that's always talking about how much you love surprises?"

"Yea. And?" she quipped, sliding into the passenger seat.

"Well let me do that then, let me impress you a lil bit."

Fatima didn't need to be impressed and Zac understood that so as she settled in the front seat, excitement coursed through Fatima.

They'd been on the road for a good ten minutes when Zac reached for Fatima's hand.

"Got a question for you," he said.

"What?" she looked at their intertwined hands. Holding hands wasn't new for them, but there was something different about this. It was electric. "You want to go steady with me?"

He chuckled. "We already doing that. But my question is what are your expectations with us?"

She glanced at him. His jaw was tense, a sign of his nerves. It was oddly reassuring for her to know he wasn't alone in feeling anxious.

"Expectations?"

"I mean..." They stopped at a red light, and he stole a glance at her. "This is new territory for us, and I don't want to fuck up my chance."