2 Valeria

2

Valeria

I couldn’t stop thinking about a certain Prince who smelled of whiskey and rich pine while I had dinner with my date. Brandon was the CFO of my company, and he had asked me on a date to the art show two weeks ago. I had agreed because it had been a long time since I felt intimacy of any kind. I wanted to try something, anything at all instead of moping around my house even on weekends.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?” Brandon asked as I sat on his couch, making sure I didn’t bump with anything as I laid my cane beside me.

“Yes, I am sure,” I replied.

I didn’t drink. The last time I drank beer I was sixteen. Almost a decade. Ever since that incident, I hated alcohol. It made me nauseous.

I could hear Brandon shuffling around his kitchen. My thoughts drifting to Khalid Al Latif. There was something familiar about him, especially how deep his voice was. Husky and masculine, it had made me very aware of how fast my heart beat pulsed when he had leaned closer. I