Confessions of a Twenty-Something City Girl

Blockbuster and Chill

"I should probably get going," I say as I step out of the shower, wrapping the white towel over my damp body to dry off.

"Wait, I thought you were staying with me tonight?" Noah asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Oh, I just thou—" I start to stammer. Noah wants me to stay the night? I wonder if he could tell that was my first time. There are so many emotions rushing through me right now - I'm already thinking about when I can have him next.

"I don't think so, Miss Hart," Noah says, drawing me into a tender embrace. His towel drapes loosely around his waist as he kisses me softly, his lips lingering with a sweet warmth. Pulling back just enough to meet my gaze, he flashes an irresistibly charming smile, "Would you do me the honor of staying the night?"

"I suppose I could be persuaded," I reply with a playful smile, rising onto my tiptoes to press a gentle kiss against his lips.

"Are you hungry?" he asks.

"Starving!" I exclaim.

"You strike me as a pizza kind of girl. How does that sound?" Noah suggests.

"Only if there's ranch involved!" I say, excitedly.

"Pizza and ranch it is," he agrees with a grin. "How do you like your pizza?"

"I usually do half cheese and half mushrooms and olives. It's weird, but I love having a slice of each," I chuckle. "What about you?"

"We'll have to order half cheese and half mushroom and olives then," Noah says, his eyes smiling into mine. "As for me, I'm a 'the works' kind of guy. The more toppings, the better."

"Good to know," I smile back.

"I'll go place the order. If you head into my closet, you can grab whatever clothes you need to get comfortable. Make yourself at home," he says warmly as he walks out.

Finishing drying off, I step into the bedroom. I still can't believe what just happened. A permanent smile stretches across my face as steamy flashes of our passionate time together flicker in my mind.

Entering Noah's closet, I'm enveloped by his delicious scent and the sight of his meticulously organized personal clothing store. Dozens of perfectly pressed white, grey, and black button-down shirts stand proudly beside an array of tailor-made suits.

A lit glass case against the wall displays hundreds of shoes, ranging from athletic sneakers and Italian leather loafers to stylish kicks—it's clear he's a sneakerhead. Continuing through the closet, I find a large gray couch beside a long glass display case filled with Bvlgari, Gucci, and Cartier cufflinks, as well as dozens of Rolex watches and unique designs like Richard Mille—just the kind Drake raps about in "Going Bad."

At the end of the jewelry display, a tall full-length mirror reminds me that I'm still in a towel and prompts me to find something to wear. I return to the button-down shirts, choosing a white one and slowly buttoning it up. As I make my way through the primary bedroom and down the floating staircase, Noah approaches me with excitement, lifting me up and showering me with butterfly kisses.

"Damn, I like you in my clothes," Noah says with a smile, mentally capturing the moment of me in his white button-down. "Pizza and ranch are ordered and will be here shortly," he announces happily.

"A man who knows the key to my heart," I tease.

"I hope to learn a lot more about that," he replies sincerely, bending down to kiss me again.

"If you play your cards right," I giggle.

"Good thing I'm an expert card player," he shares.

"And humble. Don't forget, humble."