Since Wolfey’s the other night was a total bust, I’m moving down the list and forgetting all about it. Out of sight, out of mind. I know what you’re thinking, I should just give up the list and come up with something else. Something like, oh, I don’t know, just telling her the truth. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be a dude and tell a woman you love her only to have her shoot you down? Neither do I, but I’m guessing it would cut me deep. Especially considering this is Charlotte we’re talking about. It’s not like I could just drop that bomb on her, walk away, and never see her again. Our families are practically related. I’ll have to spend Christmas and birthdays with her while she looks at me with pity from across the room. Poor, lonely Gavin holding a torch for his best friend while she moves on, marries Rocco, and spends the rest of her life listening to Barbara Streisand and shoe shopping with him.
This list is my only hope of saving face. It has to work. So I’m moving on to one of my favorites on the list: take her to The Cheesecake Factory. Glancing down at my cell phone, I see a text from Tyler reminding me what to do.
Chicks love cool guys that order for them. Be cool, dude. Make sure she knows money is no object. Chicks dig it when guys say that.
“Hey, Gavin, sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch,” Charlotte says brightly as she kisses me on the cheek and then rushes over to take her seat across from me.
It takes everything in me not to vault over the table and tackle her to the ground. I’m guessing that would be frowned upon at The Cheesecake Factory.
“It’s fine. I haven’t been here that long. How was job hunting today?” I ask as I signal for our waitress so she can get Charlotte something to drink.
“Job hunting sucks. I should have just stayed in college for the rest of my life,” she says with a laugh as she looks over the drink menu. “How was work for you? I heard you’re doing some new promotional thing where you’re letting customers vote on a toy name. That sounds fun.”
“The customers seem to like it so far. We’ve gotten some great submissions and some creepy ones,” I tell her.
“Creepy ones?”
“Well, the creepy ones have all come from Tyler. I need to block him from the company website.”
Charlotte laughs and I’m instantly hard. I try to think about something other than the musical sound of her laugh, like cheesecake. But that doesn’t help; I love cheesecake. And now I’m thinking about smothering Charlotte’s body with cheesecake and then licking it off. I wonder if she would taste better with cherry cheesecake or blueberry? Does blueberry sauce stain the skin? I bet Uncle Drew would know the answer to that …
“I was asked to come to the grand opening of a new sex toy store in Cleveland this weekend. You should totally come. They want me to cut the ribbon during the opening ceremony,” I explain.
“That sounds fun. I’ll definitely be there. Just text me the address and when it is. Thanks for asking me to lunch too. I haven’t been here in a while. Rocco brought me here on our first date and our bill was outrageous.”
Fucking Rocco. I’ll show him. My bill will be bigger than his bill.
“So how’s Brooklyn?” Charlotte asks, checking a text on her phone and then setting it to the side of her silverware.
I don’t know. How is Brooklyn? I haven’t spoken to her since she passed out at the table and Tyler drove her home. I told him if he gave her my cell number or told her where I lived, I’d tell my mom he still sucks his thumb at night when he sleeps.
“She’s great. Just great. Wonderful and great.”
Charlotte leans forward and puts her elbows on the table while I gush about Brooklyn.
Holy cleavage, Batman. Don’t look directly at the cleavage. Look at the ceiling.
“They have a light burnt out. I should tell someone,” I mutter as I stare above our table.
I feel Charlotte’s hand cover mine on the table. Swallowing thickly, I will my penis not to make a fool of himself under the table. I can feel him perking up and that’s all I need—him standing at attention, slamming against the underside of the table, and making the glasses and plates clang together. And now I’m picturing my penis rising up like a phoenix and repeatedly smacking against the table like he’s knocking on a door. Maybe that would impress her. “Hey, Charlotte, look what my penis can do!”
Charlotte’s thumb starts tracing small circles on top of my hand, and I’m pretty sure the clanging of the table is about to commence in two seconds.
“Brooklyn is really pretty. A little crazy, but pretty. Does she make you happy?”
She makes me happy when she’s passed out cold.
“Totally happy. She’s great.”
When she’s not speaking. Or breathing.
“That’s good. I’m glad you’ve found someone who makes you as happy as Rocco makes me.”