what sandra thinks

when we met. e/elevator.

I hate elevators.

It was all I could think as I stood there, staring at my shoes, waiting for it to arrive. I would have taken the stairs, but my interview was on the thirty-fourth floor. And my beautiful new heels were not meant for stair climbing. Especially not thirty-four flights.

When the elevator doors opened, I sighed and stepped inside along with several others. Too many others. I didn’t like elevators when I was alone, but I liked them even less when they were crowded. I could feel the panic beginning to build.

Twelfth floor.

A couple of people left the elevator. I let out a little sigh. Good.

Eighteenth floor.

Three more people got off. Just as I let out a breath, feeling the panic subside a touch, someone new got on. Someone tall. And gorgeous. And… Fuck! I’m staring. The moment I realized my gaze lingered too long, I tried to look away, but then I caught the sexiest little smirk on his face. His perfect face with perfect stubble and perfect lips and a perfect angular jaw. I wanted to reach out and touch him.

Fuck! I’m still staring.

I smiled, thoroughly embarrassed, and turned my eyes down. He took another step closer to me and turned to face the elevator doors. I could feel the heat radiating off him. And I could smell him. Musky and masculine and… Oh God. I need to focus. I have an interview, for fuck’s sake.

Twenty-sixth floor.

The last four people left the elevator. The last four except for me. And Mr. Tall and Sexy.

I could feel my knees shaking. I was nervous for my interview, but that was not the reason for my trembling. It was him. I took a deep breath as subtly as I could and looked up at the numbers changing as the elevator ascended. But out of the corner of my eye, I could see that his eyes were on me.

Oh God. Is my hair okay? Is my skirt too short?

Suddenly, I was too aware of my every move. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I let them hang at my sides. Then I clasped them together in front of me. Then I reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. (It fell again immediately after.) I was overwhelmed by my anxiety over the interview, the elevator, and the beautiful man beside me. This was not good.

And then it got worse.

The elevator came to a stop with a sudden jolt. It was so jarring that I nearly stumbled, but Mr. Perfect reached for me and held me by my upper arms, steadying me. His touch ignited something in me. And I felt anything but steady. I took a few deep breaths trying to stave off a full-blown panic attack.

When he released me, I started hitting buttons, willing the elevator doors to open.

“Oh God.” I whispered. That’s when I felt it. His hand took mine from the buttons and held it.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He spoke softly. His voice was deep and comforting. It felt like velvet.

“I’m sorry.” My voice was a little shaky. “I don’t do well in elevators.”

“Look at me.”

It took me a minute, but I finally turned to him and looked at his face, my eyes meeting his. “Hi.”

He smiled. I think he was holding back a laugh. “Hi. I’m Nick.”

“Stella.” I looked down and realized he was still holding my hand. And I knew he could feel mine trembling in his.

“I’m going to make a call to get us out of here, okay?”

I nodded, but when he started to let go of my hand, I clutched his like it was the only thing keeping me standing.

“Nick?” The panic was taking its toll. “I think I might pass out.”

He let go of my hand and wrapped both of his around my waist. “I won’t let you fall.”

God, he has nice hands. And he smells so good. Not the time, Stella!

Nick cautiously lowered me until we were both sitting, leaning against the elevator wall. I took a few calming breaths, but with Nick’s eyes on me, they weren’t so calming.

“How do you feel now? Better?”

“Yeah.” I closed my eyes and covered my face with my hands. “God, this is so embarrassing.”

“Stella.” He took my hands away from my face. I stared at him, awaiting his next words. “No need to be embarrassed.” He smiled at me. “I like that you’re flustered, though. It’s fucking adorable.”

Oh God.

At that moment, the elevator started moving and promptly stopped again. It was jarring and it completely freaked me out. Without a thought, I grabbed onto his arm. He covered my hand with his and kept it there.

“I think I need to distract you. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

I took a deep breath—again—and tried to remember something about myself. Anything. “I…” He made me so nervous. “I have a cat that likes to eat donuts.”

Oh my God. That’s what I thought of? Kill me.

Nick laughed. “Fucking adorable,” he mumbled. “This doesn’t seem to be helping you relax, though.” He smiled again. “I have another idea to distract you.”

“What is it? Please… anything.”

“Anything?”

He took my face in his hands, and I nodded.

And then he kissed me.

—♥—

p.s. — When we finally reached the thirty-fourth floor, I walked out of the elevator and Nick followed. I approached the desk and smiled to the receptionist. “I’m Stella Layne. Here for an interview with Nicholas Hunter.” The moment his name fell from me, I made the connection. Nicholas. Nick. Oh fuck.

Hot guy: model unknown (but I’d be happy to work on him… I mean *for* him)

©2022 what sandra thinks

when we met. d/diary.

Note: this is stolen from myself, slightly edited. It’s a throwback to the 2018 A-to-Z challenge. I wrote a story (based on my real-life college experience) as a series of diary entries. This is the entry where I meet the guy. THE guy.

• • •

Dear Diary,

I’ve decided that chemistry is my favorite class. I’ve always been more of a math girl than a science girl, but I have a good reason for my newfound love of chemistry. A few good reasons…

Reason #1: Chem is at 11 am. So I’m actually awake for it.

Reason #2: Professor Doctor Strange is awesome. Of course that’s not his real name. He’s really Dr. Davis… but he has a sexy accent and totally reminds me of Doctor Strange. So I’ve christened him thusly.

Reason #3: I didn’t know anyone in the class so I sat at an empty table and figured I’d have some random partner. But no one sat with me. Stupid odd number of students in the class. But! Dr. Strange said he’d have to be my partner. I was totally fine with that… although I should not be having impure thoughts about my professor. But I’m not going to stop. Fuck… I hope I pass the class! Failing would be embarrassing. Especially with my professor partner.

Reason #4: I lost sexy-accent-professor as my lab partner. That’s not the good part of this reason, though. This is: We have an even number of students in the class now. Someone transferred in. So I got him for my partner.

Mr. Hottie. The guy I saw at dinner the day I moved in. The guy I’ve been dreaming of seeing again. And now he’s my lab partner.

Mr. Fucking. Hottie. Is. My. Lab. Partner.

Oh my god. This kind of thing never happens to me.

My heart is beating so fast. I need to chill the fuck out.

—♥—

p.s. — I guess this is cheating—using something I wrote a long time ago—but I thought it was perfect for this. If you want to read the whole story, you can! Dear Diary | A to Z 2018

Hot guy: model unknown (but I’d like to run my fingers through his hair)

©2022 what sandra thinks

when we met. c/crush.

“Grace, no! I’m not going to talk to him. He doesn’t know I exist, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Whyyyy? Kelsey, you’ve had a crush on Ryan Callahan since you were thirteen! You need to do this before graduation or you’re going to regret it.”

“No, I’m not! I’m fine with admiring him from afar.”

“He might have a crush on you, too…”

Yeah, right. “I seriously doubt that.”

“You never know, Kels. I found out something this morning that I think you should know.”

“What?” Now she was making me nervous.

“He’s going to Yale.”

“What?? Are you fucking with me?”

“Nope. You and Ryan are both going to Yale.”

“Oh my god.” I couldn’t breathe.

“See? You definitely have to talk to him!”

“How the hell can I? I get flustered just watching him sit there in Calculus. And you want me to talk to him?”

“He’s just a guy, Kelsey.”

“He is not just a guy! He is the perfect guy. He is so damn attractive. And he’s nice, too. He’s confident without being cocky. And he’s smart. And funny.” I sighed.

Grace sighed, too, but hers was exasperated. But this conversation was over. We were walking in the opposite direction from my next class.

“I have to get to class. I’ll meet you later.”

My eyes were on the floor as I shook my head and turned around. I didn’t notice anyone was there. Until I smacked right into the hard chest of Ryan Callahan.

He grabbed me around my waist to steady me. God, his hands are warm. And big. I sort of fell into his eyes. They were even bluer up close.

My mind started going a mile a minute. Oh fuck. Did he hear our whole conversation? Oh my god, did Grace know he was there?!? I bet she did. I’m going to kill her! My thoughts were so frantic that it took me a minute to realize he was talking to me.

“Hi, Kelsey.” His smile was devastating. And… Wait. He knows my name?

“Ryan.” Jesus my voice is shaky. Get it together Kels! “Sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Lucky me.”

It was only then that I realized he was still holding me. I froze. But he didn’t. He bent his head down to mine and whispered into my ear.

“I think you’re perfect, too.”

Then he kissed my cheek.

When he finally took his hands from me, he smiled again. “See you in Calculus.”

I stood there in shock.

Oh god. He heard everything.

—♥—

p.s. — Yes, that is a picture of Shawn Mendes. Couldn’t resist. The ultimate young-girl crush. 

Hot guy: Shawn Mendes (my future son-in-law, according to my daughter)

©2022 what sandra thinks

when we met. b/bakery.

Every morning, Parker walked into the same bakery at the same time. And every morning he saw her. She worked in the back, but he knew exactly where to sit with his cappuccino to have a clear view of her creating the most beautiful and delicious pastries and desserts he’d ever tasted. He watched her hands move like magic as she worked. And he sighed when he saw her tuck the fallen strands of honey blonde hair behind her ear. Beautiful.

Someday, Parker thought. Someday, I will find the courage to talk to her.

He was trying to get over his shyness. His promotion at work, regular visits to the gym, forcing himself to go out when his friends asked—they all helped. Yet he still never spoke to her.

He didn’t even know her name. Until that day.

It was particularly crowded at the bakery that morning, but Parker still snagged his table. It was so busy, though, that the girl at the counter needed help. She turned to the kitchen and called out, “Amelia… could you come out front?”

Amelia.

She was too busy to notice him staring, which was good because he couldn’t take his eyes off her. But when the crowd dispersed, he turned away and pretended he was reading so she wouldn’t catch his eyes on her. He knew he had to leave, but he also knew that if he did, he’d be disappointed in himself. Again. He started overthinking the simple act of talking to her. That’s why he didn’t notice someone standing beside him.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

Parker turned toward the voice and his eyes landed on her. Amelia. Unable to speak in that moment, he gestured to the chair near his and smiled. When she smiled back and thanked him, he felt his heart pounding in his chest.

“You’re welcome, Amelia.”

With a smile, she questioned him. “How do you know my name?”

“I heard her,” he said, gesturing to the girl at the counter.

“I think I should know your name, too.”

He smiled. “Parker.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Parker.”

“Finally?” He suddenly got very nervous. Had she noticed him before?

“Yeah. I see you here almost every day. How could I not notice the gorgeous man who watches me while drinking his cappuccino?”

“Oh my god,” he mumbled, covering his face with his hand, feeling embarrassed. But… wait. Did she say gorgeous? He took a deep breath, dropped his hand from his face, and smiled at her. “How could I not watch the beautiful woman making the most delicious things I’ve ever tasted?”

“And you’re charming, too.” She spoke softly, but with a smile.

Parker didn’t know what to say to that. They sat in silence for a few moments, sharing glances and smiles, until finally, she spoke again. “Parker?”

He looked into her sparkling blue eyes. “Yes?”

“I hope you’re going to ask me out now because I’m too shy to ask you.”

Again he smiled. Shy. She was shy. But she paved the way for him to overcome his shyness. With her, at least. “Amelia…” He reached for her hand and she gave it to him. “Will you go out with me?”

“I will.”

—♥—

p.s. — I don’t know what my obsession with bakeries is about, but in at least four stories I’ve written, a bakery is involved. That must mean something. Oh yeah—I love cake.

Hot guy: model unknown (but if you find him, send him to me)
!!!Update: Found him. Brazilian model Rafael Lazzini (yum)

©2022 what sandra thinks

when we met. a/accident.

I have the worst luck ever. Was it too much to ask to make it home without anything going wrong? All I wanted was a glass of wine and a hot bath. But nooo. Worst luck ever.

I rounded the corner at Main and Park, just a few blocks from home. I hit the brakes as soon as I saw a car backing up toward me. Clearly the driver was trying to park on the side of the road. Illegally. And clearly he didn’t see me because when I stopped, he didn’t.

The shatter wasn’t horrible, but it was enough. “Dammit,” I mumbled to myself as I pulled over. Why was this idiot trying to park here?! I whipped my door open. I twisted around and slammed it closed harder than was necessary. I was angry. I climbed over a row of flowers, nearly tripping and falling on my face, to meet the idiot driver on the sidewalk.

I stopped when I reached him. He stood with his back to me, looking over the damage. But I didn’t wait for him to turn around before speaking. “Why the hell…” I began, “were you trying…” Before I finished my rant, he turned to face me. My words died on my lips and my jaw nearly hit the sidewalk.

“Go ahead and finish,” he said, smiling at me.

I stared at him without saying a word. He was fucking gorgeous and he knew it. He’s enjoying this. How dare he smile at me like that! But I had to stand my ground. “I was going to say… uh…” I tried to continue sounding angry, but I knew I was failing. “Why the hell were you trying to park here?”

“Aw, you were doing so well the first time,” he said, letting out a little laugh that was far too sexy. “Maybe you could try that again? You know, with more feeling this time?” Another smile, which, at that moment, both annoyed and melted me.

“Well,” my words turned into a mumble, “it was your fault.”

“I just wanted to go in there,” he said, pointing over his shoulder to my favorite coffee shop, “to get a cup of coffee.”

“Maybe you should have tried the parking lot?” I was flustered, but apparently, my sarcasm knows no bounds.

He grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face the lot. “It’s kind of… full.”

What the hell was he doing touching me? How am I supposed to stay mad when Mr. Fucking Perfect is touching me and sparks are racing through my entire body?

“Oh.” I turned back to him, disappointed that his hands fell away from my shoulders. “I guess we should exchange information.”

“Is this your way of asking me for my number?” he asked.

Cocky bastard. “What? No!”

“Relax,” he said, touching my arm. “I’m just teasing you.”

How embarrassing. I stood in silence staring at his stupidly perfect face.

“Why don’t you give me your info and I’ll send you a check for the damage?”

“Is this your way of asking for my number?” I teased him.

“Yes.” He admitted it without any shame or embarrassment whatsoever. And he knew he made me nervous.

“Wait a minute,” I finally came back to my senses. Sort of. “I have no idea what this is going to cost to fix.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll give you enough.”

“Look, Mr. Moneybags, with your fancy car and your perfect hair, I don’t want your money.”

I felt my cheeks burning at my own words. And he smiled. “So you admit this was your fault?”

“No!”

He laughed. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but you are so much fun to tease.”

I glared at him, but it had zero effect on him.

“I’m Spencer. And you are…?”

“Aaa… Ashley.” I couldn’t even spit out my name coherently. Damn him.

“Ashley. I’d like to take care of this for you. And get some coffee.”

“Right. Should I just wait here while you get your caffeine fix?”

“Why don’t you let me buy you a cup of coffee?” he asked, flashing that killer smile again. “Or would you rather yell at me again?”

“No, I’m good with the yelling. For now.” I found myself smiling, too.

“So, coffee, then?”

I let out an exasperated sigh, complete with an eyeroll.

“Fine.”

—♥—

p.s. — I’ve decided to send my “hot guy at the end of every post” on hiatus until after the a-to-z challenge is over. You know, since I’ll be featuring a hot guy in every post already.

Hot guy: model unknown (but he can hit my car anytime)

©2022 what sandra thinks