A Beautiful Instrument

10: Show Me

We pick up Indian food and drive toward University Circle.

"Are we still headed to your place?" I ask.

"Yep. Have you changed your mind?" He retorts.

"Take me to your castle, prince." I urge him onward. We pull into a parking garage and take the stairs up to the fourth floor.

I'm winded. "Wow, those stairs tell me I need to get back to the gym."

Jeremy gives me a once over. "Your body looks just fine from my view."

"Yeah, but apparently I need to work on my breath control." I joke, bringing up his early observation. He smirks at me and pushes his door open, waiting for me to enter. As I brush past him, he catches my arm and leans down to kiss me. It catches me off-guard and he leaves me breathless.

"Yep, definitely going to need to work on that breath control. I can help you with that." He offers.

"You're quite generous with your time, aren't you?" I reply.

He beckons me in. "Come on in."

"Whoa." I wander to his living room window to admire the view. He literally has Severence Hall framed by his large living room windows.

Jeremy steps behind me and puts his hands on my shoulders. "Home away from home."

"It's gorgeous." I say.

"It is. It's even better sharing the view with you." He murmurs in my ear as his hands run up and down my arms.

I turn around to face him. "We should eat while the food's still warm."

His eyes search mine for a minute then he turns away, retreating to the kitchen. "What can I get you to drink? I have water, milk, wine, beer, tequila, rum..."

"Did you seriously just offer me milk?" I laugh at the choice.

I step out of my shoes. I never took off my open-toe, high-heeled booties to walk the zoo and now my feet are killing me.

"It's an option." He defends offering me milk.

"Only if you have fresh-baked cookies to accompany it. What kind of wine?" I ask, taking time to check out his space.

"White or red."

"What varietal, you goof?" I know he knows wine better than by color.

I sit down on the couch, still admiring the view of Severence Hall. Jeremy brings two wine bottles and holds them in front of me. One is a six-year old estate-grown Chardonnay. The second is a Grüner Veltliner, typically a bright wine with balanced minerality.

I turn around. "Who selects your wine?"

He grins. "I got a guy who owns a wine shop in Chesterland."

"You have a wine guy yet you asked me what color wine I wanted? Tsk, tsk, Mr. Connors." I tease.

He leans down and whispers in my ear. "Most women aren't as particular and definitely aren't here to evaluate my cellar."

I twist away so I can reply to him directly. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Connors, but I think we've established I'm not quite like most other women."

"That you aren't. So what will it be?" He agrees.

"The Grüner. Here let me help you." I plod over barefoot and stand next to him in the kitchen.

He looks at the top of my head, looks at my feet, and then back up to my face. "You seem to have shrunk."

"My feet were killing me in those shoes." I confess.