Dancing On The Edge Of A Knife

41. Date

Ester felt her heartbeat pick up pace at the sight of him.

It's been a month since they started dating and tonight he had invited her over to his place.

Ester and Devon had had many dates in that one month. He would come to her place various times. But when he asked her to come to his apartment, Devon had always sensed her discomfort and told her she didn't have to say yes. It seemed like Ester thought something would happen whenever he invited her over.

And she did. Since she was so inexperienced in dating, the first time after Devon visited her, she had googled what signs she would have to look for in order to be prepared that he wanted more than just her company.

And almost all of them said: At a dinner at his place it is almost impossible not to have sex afterwards. Ester was not completely relying on those internet articles of course. She knew he would never do anything she didn't want.

Which was the thought that brought her here. Standing at his doorstep, shyly smiling up at him.

"Come in." He said, opening the door wider after a second of appreciating the beautiful woman in front of him. She was wearing a red dress and her make up wasn't too much, which Devon loved. She never used a lot of make up and he wouldn't have her any other way.

The man himself was looking pretty handsome too, Ester thought as she stepped into his house for the first time. He was wearing black oxford pants and a dark blue dress shirt. It was simple, yet he looked very attractive in it. If not for the bulging muscles she could see through his shirt, then his million dollar smile would definitely do it.

"Every time I look at you I think you could not look any better. And then each day you prove my statement to be false." He smiled, tightly hugging her waist and planting a light kiss on her lips.

Ester smiled and blushed after comprehending his compliment. He was being extra sweet tonight, she noted. And she was not mad. Both of them said they were not big romantics. Yet they enjoyed when their partner went out of their usual way to resemble cliche romantic.

"You don't look so bad yourself, Sir. Every time I look at you-"
"Oh shut up." Devon pulled back with a chuckle and flushed cheeks. He guided her through the hallway and into his living room/kitchen/dining room.

Devon lived in an apartment a few streets away from his sister, who lived in a house in a rather posh neighbourhood. And many blocks away from his mother who lived in the richest part of the rich.

"I never knew you lived in an apartment." Ester noticed, glancing around the little flat. It was small, but screamed of Devon. His walls were dark grey and he had a black leather couch sitting in the far corner of the room with a glass coffee table in front of it. The t.v. was huge and behind it was a dividing wall between kitchen and living room.

As they stepped further into the room, Devon pulled out her chair from the dinner glas table and she thanked him before sitting down, still glancing around.

"I don't need much space, since I hardly ever am at home. Plus, less space means less cleaning." He chuckled, making Ester roll her eyes in amusement.
"Of course." She said as she watched him sit down across from her.

"I made salmon with potatoes and asparagus. Is that okay with you?" He asked her and Ester's stomach growled at the sound of that and at the delicious smell that only now reached her nose.

"I'll take that as a yes." He chuckled, making her blush in embarrassment.
"I'll go check on it." Devon said, getting nervous now. He stood up and went to check on the salmon.

"I put it in ten minutes ago. But I'd leave it in for another five to ten. At least that's what the recipe said." He told her, walking over to his fridge. He took out a bottle of red wine and opened it.