"Yes!" she squeals, grabbing her jacket and getting ready to leave. I made her promise she wouldn't be here when Brett shows up. The last thing I need is for her to be here drooling over him and embarrassing me more than she already has.
"I need every single detail when you get home tonight, or better yet, when you get home tomorrow morning." I just roll my eyes at her. She’s so excited you would think she was going to sleep with Brett tonight. Wait, no one is sleeping with him. Not even me, well, at least not tonight.
After pacing my apartment for twenty minutes, I finally hear a knock on the door. I do one last boob lift and smooth out the front of my dress, trying to calm my nerves. I take a deep breath and pull open the door to see the most beautiful man I have ever seen standing in the hall. He is wearing dark jeans that are perfectly washed out around his thighs, a long sleeve black button-up that fits his hard muscular body like a glove. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his defined forearms. I had no idea a man's forearms could turn me on like this. He's wearing black shoes and a belt that so closely match, I swear they were made specifically to be worn together. The entire package causes my mouth to go dry. This man could grace the pages of GQ, yet he is here to pick me up. At least I remembered the push-up bra this time. Maybe that will help me rise to his level.
When I finally make it to his face, I see a knowing smile creep across Brett's mouth. He's caught me checking him out. Great! I'll never hear the end of this.
"Jesus, Jess, you look gorgeous!" he says, leaning over to brush a kiss across my lips. "So we're staying in tonight?"
"Oh, um. Sure."
"You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Settling. I know you didn’t spend that much time getting dressed in that sexy as hell dress, making sure every hair is in place, and putting on enough make up to guarantee there isn't a man in the world who will be able to take his eyes off of you, just to sit on your couch and watch TV. So, I'll repeat. Are we staying in tonight?" He's right. After the time I spent getting ready, there is no way I'd want to waste looking this good, and being on the arm of a man who looks that good, on just staying in.
"Nope, you're taking me out. To somewhere that doesn't have pizza. And just because you are giving me a hard time, I'm ordering the most expensive item on the menu. I hope you brought your life savings with you."
"There she is! No alcohol needed this time, either," he says, pulling me into a hug, running his hands across my bare shoulders. "You really do look incredible tonight. I'm not sure I want to take you out in public. You might cause a few men to spontaneously combust, and I'm terrified one of them might be me." I giggle at his silly compliment.
"You look pretty handsome yourself."
"Apparently, I do. I think I saw you froth at the mouth when you opened the door."
"Not my fault. You were the one who rolled up your sleeves like that."
"What? Jesse Addison, do you have an arm fetish? It's not quite as kinky as I was hoping for, but I can work with that," he says while crossing his arms over his chest and using one hand to slowly stroke his exposed skin. We both start laughing, and it feels awesome to be able to joke with him like this. It's a welcome change from the nervousness I usually feel. I guess giving a man a hickey can really loosen a girl up.
"Oh God, you're ridiculous. Can we please go before you start molesting your poor arms in the middle of my living room? You owe me dinner, remember?"
"Lead the way."
When we get outside, he leads me over to a shiny silver BMW sports car. I freeze as he pulls open my door.
"You have a BMW?" I ask in a voice a little higher pitched than I meant.
"Yes, is that a problem? Do you hate Germans?" He tries to joke, but looks confused.
"Brett, this is a really nice car." He stands waiting for me to get in, but I’m still frozen in place.
"She is, isn't she?" He lovingly runs his hands over the convertible hardtop. The very, very expensive convertible hardtop.
"Where's your Jeep?" I ask because when he drove me home last night, it was in an older model Jeep Wrangler. I surely was not expecting him to show up in a nice sports car today.
"It's at home. This is my other car. I'm not taking you out on our first date in a beat up Jeep I've had since college."
Any comfort I felt with Brett inside has now vanished. It doesn't take a genius to realize this is a successful man. He's gorgeous, drives a nice car, wears fancy clothes, and probably won't even bat an eye when I order the twenty-three dollar steak at dinner. He is like...a real adult. Here I am a too-curvy, twenty-six year old college student, who works in a coffee shop. I share an apartment to keep costs down, and I’m currently wearing my roommate’s clothes because I didn’t want to spend the money on a new outfit tonight. It wasn't until this moment that I realize just exactly how far out of my league I am tonight.
"What's going on, Jesse?"