Craving Ava

3.2 - Dinner Arrangements

Ava

While being driven by Easton's personal driver in an expensive car through the upper East side, I couldn't help but think about all the events that led me here. It had only been three days since I left that coffee shop and had the most unexpected encounter of my life, and yet, it felt like a distant memory.

At the same time, it also felt unreal. Like I was the main character in one of those sappy romance movies I'd watch when I was feeling lonely and needed a pick-me up. My brain couldn't quite grasp just how real this was.

Easton Maxwell ran after me, tracked me down and asked me out. All within a couple of days. And I didn't know a thing about him besides the fact that he could afford luxury apartments and night clubs.

Holy crap.

Suddenly, I got the urge to finally Google him, as curiosity was definitely getting the best of me, and I needed to know more about the man that found me.

As I typed his name in the search bar, the first thing that popped up was his web page:

"Easton James Maxwell, born on April 8th, 1993 is a well-known entrepreneur, CEO of Maxwell Industries, owner and co-owner of plenty of establishments and properties. In 2019, he made the Forbes' 30 under 30 list at only 25 years old, making him one of the youngest self-made billionaires to date. His father is the billionaire Garrett Maxwell, who's married to his mother, Katherine Pierce-Maxwell. He also has a sister named Ella Maxwell."

Wow. He's kind of a rock star in the business world.

I was extremely impressed by everything he had accomplished at such a young age. He clearly earned his right to be where he was.

I clicked on his profile picture and zoomed in until it covered the whole screen, so I could take in the view. With a dark grey suit, navy blue tie, black Oxfords and the watch I've seen him wear every time, he looked like not only he belonged in Wall Street, but he ran it. So sure of himself, so determined, so relentless. So... Intimidating.

Although I knew there was more to him, this was how most of the world saw him. This was what he allowed them to see.

I took some time to take in his features, something I could never do while I was standing next to him, because I could barely glance at him. Partly because I didn't want him to be able to read me, and partly because I was scared. Scared of looking at him and letting him turn into something real, of getting used to him, of being turned into stone by those emerald-colored eyes.

There were so many reasons to be scared. So many reasons to run.

And yet, I wasn't planning on running. At least, not for now.

As I zoomed in the picture even more, I was able to notice some traits I hadn't before. Like how his ears were slightly pointy, or the scar that he had under his left earlobe, and the tiny mole he had on his forehead. Things you could only notice if you were standing really close. And even though I couldn't bear the thought of getting close to him, there was nothing I craved more.

I enjoyed being close. I enjoyed every look, every touch — accidental or otherwise, and every feeling. I couldn't quite understand what they were, but boy, was I feeling them.

He gave me a myriad of sensations. Most of them good, some of them bad.

And the usual me would have focused on the bad, and used it as an excuse to stop something that hasn't begun yet. The usual me wouldn't take the chance.

But, perhaps, what could be considered as the new me... The new me wanted to see where things go.

Because in just two days, I had felt more than in the entire twenty-four years of my life. I felt joy, I felt excitement, I felt confusion, I felt fear. All at the same time, and so differently. And I wasn't ready to let go of the possibility of there being more.