Fuck.
I run a hand through my hair, pushing it off my forehead as I wait. I dressed up for her and I dress up for no one. I don’t have to considering I work from home, safe at my desk, behind my laptop, on various website development projects. I took a few courses at the local community college and somehow fell into the profession. I don’t make a ton of money, but it’s enough. Plus I had money left over from the sale of our house. The new owner tore it down, but the area became a hot commodity considering its close location to the ocean.
So yeah, I’m not wealthy, but I’m not struggling. And I can dress up on occasion to impress a girl, though I haven’t done that in a long, long time.
I’m wearing a pair of black pants and a white button-down shirt untucked, the sleeves rolled up to my elbows since it’s so damn hot. The air is close, unusual for this time of year, and sweat dampens my forehead as I pace in front of the restaurant, ignoring the others who are waiting to get a table. They’re all couples. Younger, older, they’re chatting and laughing, sounding like they’re having a good time, and I feel like I’m about to be dumped. Maybe Katie chickened out. Had second thoughts. Worried I might be something I’m not.
She’d be right.
Glancing at my phone, I check the time. She’s almost ten minutes late. Is this normal? I don’t know considering I haven’t closely studied her habits. I hadn’t followed her around long enough to know. Since we’d started talking, I’d stopped following her, lingering in her neighborhood. I cut it all out. It felt like a violation and she’s been violated enough through the years. Plus, she could recognize me. Bad enough that I have to live with what I’m doing to her. I don’t need to add fuel to the fire.
I start pacing again and glance toward the parking lot when I spot her. The relief I experience at seeing her walk toward me is almost overwhelming. The lust I feel at knowing she’s come to meet me is almost as strong.
As she draws closer, I notice the faint smile curving her lips. Lips that are pink and full and welcoming. Her hair is down, falling about her shoulders in casual waves, and she’s wearing a dress. A dress that wouldn’t be considered sexy or revealing, that covers her almost to the point of being modest, but the dark pink fabric seems to cling almost lovingly to her slight curves. The slope of her shoulders, her small, round breasts, the dip of her waist and flare of her hips.
I’m sweating, and not just from the heat. I’m sweating because the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen is approaching me, offering me a shy wave, and I wave back, wanting to shout in triumph that I’ve got her.
I’ve got her.
The restaurant is nice, the food amazing, and the company wonderful. Our conversation was stilted at first and I blame myself. I’m not used to this sort of thing. Spending time with someone new, learning about him, being willing to allow him to try and learn about me, it’s difficult.
I’d texted Brenna before I left, telling her where I was going but not telling her it was a date. It feels too new, too fresh, and I didn’t want to share it. What if this dinner ended in disaster? As in, he hates me and never wants to see me again. I’d be too embarrassed to admit it, even to my sister.
Brenna swore she and Mom took the Find My Phone app off my cell, but who knows if they’re telling the truth or not. I’d rather be somewhat honest with them and let them know where I’m going than receive a hysterical call from Mom in the middle of my date.
Who are you going with? Brenna had texted back when I told her my evening plans.
A friend.
I’d kept it simple, chewing on my lower lip, waiting for her to dig. She likes to do that. She knows I don’t have many friends, but she’s been wrapped up in her own life lately. I think she’s having trouble with her boyfriend, though she’d never, ever admit it. She prefers to pretend everything’s perfect between them. They have the ideal relationship, whereas I’m the damaged one who will most likely never give Mom grand-kids.
Such a depressing thought, more so because we all know it’s true.
Have fun! had been her reply minutes later. I could tell she was distracted. She only ever uses exclamation points when she’s distracted.
“Do you have any siblings?” I ask, more like blurt out of nowhere. We’re halfway through our meal, Ethan and I, and the conversation has lulled since we started to eat.
He has his fork in his mouth when I ask my question and he sets it down on the edge of his plate, chewing thoughtfully and swallowing before he answers. “No, I don’t.” He pauses, those rich brown eyes studying me, seeming to sparkle behind his glasses. I’ve never found a man who wore glasses attractive before, but when had I ever found any man attractive before? “What about you?”