Austin steps behind me and places a hand on my hip as he deposits the rest of the dirty dishes in the sink. Throughout the night he has treated me to these soft, innocent touches here and there. A hand on my knee, a brush of my hair behind my ear, a gentle kiss to my temple. Each time they spark a sweet heat in my chest that radiates in waves throughout my body, making me flush. A week ago, a man touching me, even innocently, in front of my father would have freaked me out. Now, I yearn for those fleeting touches. Austin has already conditioned my body to respond to the simplest of caresses.

“I am afraid we are not being the best dinner companions.” My father’s voice interrupts my enjoyment of Austin’s proximity. “Beth has never had much interest in business.”

Austin places another soft kiss on my temple. “Sorry if we’re boring you, darling.” The slightest undertone of sarcasm is just enough to tell me he’s teasing me with the term of endearment. I hate them and I think he knows it. Every pet name he’s used tonight—darling, sweetie, honey, dear—all leave his mouth with an annoying hint of condescension. I like when he calls me Goose. It isn’t some generic platitude to show people we are special to each other. It’s just for us.

“It has been a lovely evening, but I am afraid it is getting rather late. I should be heading home,” my father declares, standing and grabbing his suit jacket off the back of his chair. I hadn’t noticed he’d taken it off. He rarely does, even at home. The sight fills me with pride, knowing that my father actually relaxed and might have even enjoyed his evening in with me. With us. Usually our ‘family time’ leaves me with the feeling that our visits are a chore for him, just one more in his long list of responsibilities. Tonight was different. Because of Austin.

“I’ll walk you out, Richard,” Austin calls after him.

The door shuts behind them and in the quiet of my empty apartment, a rush of happiness washes over me. I was terrified when Austin blew into my apartment like a hurricane, but he made my evening. For the first time in my life, I think my father actually likes me. Tonight, with Austin by my side, I almost felt normal. One dinner with my boyfriend—or whatever he is—and the way my father sees me is changing. I’m a person and not a walking mistake. Maybe it’s because around Austin I’m finally starting to feel like a woman. God, how cheesy is that? But it’s true. Austin makes me feel powerful, sexy, worshiped. Maybe he’s right. Maybe somewhere inside me there’s a sexual goddess.