"Oh, um...I don't know. I didn't exactly plan on answering her." I stumble over my words.
"Okay, well let's discuss this." He backs up, gliding his hands through the air, showcasing his privates like a Price Is Right model. "See, if you said green bean, I'd be very upset. However, if you told her an eggplant, I'd probably never wear pants again. So what's it going to be Jess?"
This conversation has just crossed over into crazy town. Brett is always funny, but this ludicrous conversation is a bit odd even for him. Just as I'm about to mentally inventory the produce department, I catch a small glimmer in his otherwise serious eyes. Oh my God! He's messing with me. Again. Hopefully I'm not wrong about this, because I'm about to turn the tables on this jokester.
I slide my eyes down his body. Swaying my head side to side, I pretend to weigh my options. "Well," I answer quietly, "I guess I would have to say a kosher dill pickle."
"What?" he asks incredulously.
"Yeah, definitely a dill pickle spear." I look down at his feet pretending to be embarrassed, but really trying to keep him from the seeing the smile I'm desperately attempting to hide.
"What?" he yells. "A spear?! Not even the whole pickle? Jesse, you need glasses!" he screams, trying to defend his deflating manhood. I can't hold back the laugh that's building inside any longer. I burst out laughing causing the disbelief to fade from his face.
"Oh, I get it. You're a funny girl today, huh? Ha. Ha. Hilarious, smart ass." He pretends to be annoyed as I continue to laugh. "Yeah, laugh it up now, because I'm about to pickle you." He leans forward, so close I can feel his breath against my ear as he whispers, "hard." I abruptly go quiet, as I feel myself getting wet and it has nothing to do with the chilly water coming from the shower head. Who knew such ridiculous words could have this kind of effect on me, but the way Brett says them, instantly turns me into a wanton woman.
Lifting me off my feet, I wrap my legs around his waist as he pushes me against the wall. He uses one hand to turn the water as hot as it will go. It only warms a fraction of a degree, but it's just enough to keep us in the shower for another twenty minutes. Brett utilized those minutes and made good on his promise. We properly christen my shower. Hard.
Brett
IT'S BEEN seven weeks since Sarah showed up at Nell's. I have to say, I thought I would never have another shot with Jesse after those first few days. Everything went so wrong so fast, but I never should have underestimated her. She hasn't asked about Sarah again, which really surprises me. I keep waiting for her to sit me down to have "the talk" one day, but she never does.
After the first two weeks, I realized how weird she gets when I drop her off on Wednesday nights. She always hugs me extra tight and repeats over and over again what a good time she had. She talks a million words a minute, and chews on her thumb nail. I've learned both are telltale signs that Jesse’s nervous. At first I couldn't figure it out, but when she made zero attempts to reach me on Thursdays, it didn’t take me long to figure out why.
Jess and I text all day. She sends me sweet notes, and I send her dirty ones. On Thursdays though, she goes quiet. I realized she must remember that I visit Sarah on Thursdays. So, I go out of my way to call her every night as soon as I get home. We talk for hours, and those are the best hours of my entire day.
Jesse may dread Thursdays but I've grown to loathe them. I went to Sarah's every day after her freak-out at Nell's. For the first two days, she stayed locked in her bedroom. She wouldn't eat anything, and if it wasn't for the fact that I could occasionally hear her TV changing channels and the shower going on and off, I would have worried. On day three, I ducked out of work a little early to check on her and when I got there, she was standing in her kitchen with a huge smile on her face.
"Hey Sexy! I was wondering when you were going to show up," she says, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. As she moved her hands back down I caught the sparkle off her left hand.
"How you doing, Sarah?" I ask, trying to figure out what the hell she's doing still wearing her rings.
"I'm good. Are you just going to stand in the doorway and stare at me all night, or are you coming inside?" Her candor is nothing unusual, but I'm still suspicious as hell.