by Sara Hazel
“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been doing, alright. Pathetic of me, right?”
“No, sweetie. Not at all. He likes you, and you like him. He told us that he looks forward to your weekly visits, even if you do ignore him.”
“Yeah, it’s pathetic.” I sigh. “I need to go shopping, Amy.”
“Me too. This baby is already starting to make everything I own a little too tight.”
I look over at her and she pats the small belly that she’s just now started to develop.
“I hate you so much,” I reply. “But I also love you, so you’re lucky.”
“I’m the lucky one, girl. You’re the best.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Let’s go to Macy’s so I can cry as soon as I realize nothing in the entire store is going to fit me.”
“We’ll find you the perfect dress, darling,” she says. “And then we can go look at sweatpants for me. I hope Sam finds sweatpants to be sexy.”
“He’d better, or it’s time to find someone else to marry. Baby or no baby. Any man who can’t deal with sweatpants or leggings doesn’t deserve to be with you.”
“You’re so romantic,” Amy replies wistfully.
“I am the least romantic person I know,” I fire back.
Amy just laughs and mutters “yeah, right” to herself.
Lucas
*
I wait two days to text her. I know it’s silly, but I like to build anticipation. At the moment though it feels like some kind of dating game that I shouldn’t be playing, and I vow not to do it anymore.
I like this woman, and I plan to communicate that to her. I can’t do that if I’m still playing some silly games. I have no doubts in my mind at all when it comes to this woman, so I’m going to go straight for what I want. The thought of being with Heidi fills me with warmth, and every time her name pops into my mind I can’t help but develop a raging erection soon after. Which means I’ve got that problem all the damn time now, because Heidi is a constant presence in my thoughts.
When I text Heidi a simple “Hello, beautiful. Shall I pick you up at six on Thursday?” she makes me wait. An entire twenty-four hours. It feels like absolute torture. Has she decided to back out of our date? I can tell that she’s a shy girl, so that must be it. There’s no need for me to worry. Heidi wants me as much as I want her. Ok, maybe that’s impossible, because I want her so bad it’s driving me insane. I can’t sleep at night without whispering her name to myself and imagining her in bed next to me. Heidi is the most beautiful woman I have ever met, and I am determined to make sure she knows that.
When Heidi finally texts me back, I breathe a sigh of relief. “Hey, handsome,” she replies.
This cements my belief that she’s lying to me about the new boyfriend. So, I have a little fun with her.
“Won’t your boyfriend be upset if he catches you calling someone else handsome?”
She texts back immediately: “It’s ok. He’s not the jealous type.”
I reply: “If I was your boyfriend, I’d be very jealous of anyone who tried to steal you away from me.”
Her answer: “Then it’s a good thing you’re not my boyfriend.”
Wow. This one is really playing hard to get. I would never have imagined such a sweet and shy girl would be this way, but I guess I learn something new every day.
“I will be your boyfriend someday,” I reply. And I leave it at that. Heidi doesn’t reply for almost an hour. Then she sends me a text that reads:
“If I knew better, I’d probably back out of our date now. I’m not sure you’re my type. But I’m going to give you a chance. Pick me up at six on Thursday.”
“As they say, Ms. Heidi, it’s a date.”
Heidi
*
He picks me up in his Camaro. The top is down. In February—in freaking Chicago. I am shivering even as I stand here in my giant fluffy coat. I just stare at his car with my mouth open like “WTF, dude.”
He hops out of the car and comes over to me. He offers his hand, and I take it, even though I’m more convinced than ever that this is a crazy idea.
“A Camaro convertible, huh? Nice car. Shouldn’t you have the top up?”
“I was born and raised in Chicago. This weather is nothing.”
“I was born here too. And believe me. It’s something alright. It’s fifteen degrees out right now!”
“We won’t be in the car long.”
“Where are we going?”
“Our first stop is dinner, and after that we’ll see where the night takes us.”
For dinner he takes me to a fancy new American style restaurant called Butterfly. When we walk in, I lose my breath, because the place is stunning and elegant. It’s decorated simply for Valentine’s Day — pink candles and a few strategically placed papier Mache hearts. Soft jazz music adds to the ambiance. I look over in a corner and notice a tank full of lobsters trying to get out. My heart sinks for the poor creatures. They have no idea what their fate is. What kind of terrible person would order lobster after seeing these poor things in their tank?
We are escorted to our table and Mr. Jensen pulls my chair out for me. I make sure to wrinkle my nose at him as I sit down.
“What? You’re not into chivalry?” He asks.
“Chivalry died a very long time ago. Men only pull chairs out for their dates because they’re hoping she takes her clothes off later.”
“You have a very cynical attitude towards romance,” he says as he takes a seat beside me. Not even across from me. He’s right next to me. Not that I mind. He is a very attractive dinner companion, and I am extremely attracted to him. I’m just not all over him like some girls might be. I think that’s what he was expecting from me.
“I have a very realistic attitude towards romance, Mr. Jensen.”
“You can call me Lucas, you know.”
I flash him a smile—complete with teeth. “I didn’t know your name until right now. I honestly didn’t bother to learn it.”
“I bet you think I’m offended by that,” he says as he pours me a glass of water.
“Uh huh.”
“Well, I’m not. Not at all. Not even close. You’ll have to try harder to offend me tonight, Heidi.”
“Challenge accepted,” I reply with a grin. And then we both go quiet for several minutes as we look over the menu. The waiter comes to take our order. I get a medium rare steak, with mashed sweet potatoes, and a side of broccoli. Lucas orders the lobster.
“You must not have seen the tank in the corner over there,” I point out to him after the waiter leaves.
“The lobster is great here,” he says, totally ignoring me. “You can try some if you like.”
“But look at them, Lucas. They’re trying to escape. They’re pressing their little lobster faces against the glass and looking so sad.”
“You have good eyesight if you can see that from here.”
“I can see it. You should go stand in front of it and then cancel your order. Have the steak or something else instead.”
He laughs. “You’re having a steak. It’s a little hypocritical of you to eat the cow and not the lobster. You don’t want the cows to be free?”
“I have never seen a cow in person in my entire life.”
“Ahh, ok. I get it. You can eat it if you’ve never seen it live.”
“Exactly. You’re a quick learner.”
“Maybe you should just become a vegetarian and join PETA. I think you’d make a great animal rights activist.”
“Ok, now I feel bad. I’m gonna find our waiter and cancel my steak.”
“I’m teasing you, honey,” he says. “You should have the steak. It’s excellent here.”
“Ok,” I whisper. “I’ll start my career with PETA tomorrow.”
“Excellent choice.”
“My boyfriend is a vegan,” I say just for fun. I don’t have a boyfriend, of course. Every Tinder date I’ve been on since Christmas has ended in miserable failure. My inner analysis of this date
is already starting to kick in and I think I might be close to understanding why they’re not working out for me. My face heats up and I get that awkward flush as I quickly glance over at Lucas to await his reaction to my boyfriend comment.
He just places his hand on my thigh, and smiles.
“Your boyfriend is a very lucky man.”
“Uh huh,” I reply. If I’m really gonna play this part, then I should demand that he remove his hand, but I’m seriously not gonna do that. I may be awkward on dates, and more than a little self-sabotaging, but this—just his hand—on my skin—feels so damn good right now. His palm is warm, and soft. He’s a wedding planner after all, not a construction worker. He may not have the most alpha job in the world, but he certainly looks alpha. His chiseled jaw is accentuated by just the right amount of five o’clock stubble. His deep brown eyes seem to dance as he looks me over.
He’s both fun and alpha. What a freaking combination. One that I have no idea what to do with.
“So, wedding planner, huh? What got you into that?”
“I like to make people’s dreams come true. And I’m very good at it.”
“I bet you are,” I say as I focus on his mouth. Maybe I’ll be kissing this perfect mouth later. A girl can dream.
Snap out of it, Heidi. This guy is a player and you know it. You don’t want to be giving your virginity up to just anyone, just because you think maybe he wants it. He sure looks at you like he wants it!
“And what about you? I don’t even know what you do.”
“I’m a writer. I have a blog.”
“Really?” He asks.
“Yes, really. I get a hundred thousand website visits a day, and it’s going up all the time. I do very well. I was a journalism major in college. But when I graduated, I decided to start a blog, and now here I am — living my best life.”
“What’s your blog about? You’ll have to send me the link to your site later.”
“Oh, no. I’m not going to do that. I doubt you want to read a blog about romance novels.”
He turns towards me and flashes me that smile again. “Romance novels? You?”
“Yes, me!”
“You’re the girl who told me she has a realistic attitude towards romance.”
“I’ve said too much! I need to shut up now!” I exclaim. A few couples at the other tables look over at me. One woman shakes her head in disgust. Yes, lady, I’m loud. Deal with it…
I soften my voice. “I know better than to believe the things I read in these books; you know. Some nubile virgin is always falling for a handsome billionaire, and he always turns out to be the perfect guy. He can literally do no wrong. It’s nice to imagine, but I know it’s not real.”
He nods and moves his hand farther up my thigh and then inches it closer to between my legs. I’m wearing a long red dress that Amy helped me pick out. I made sure it wasn’t too short, because I’m not confident enough when it comes to my legs. I also didn’t want to give Lucas the immediate satisfaction of seeing them without having to work a little.
Just as I’m thinking about this, he tugs my dress up, and slides his hands across my bare skin. My whole-body jolts in surprise at his touch.
“Excuse me,” I whisper.
“Yes?” He asks.
“My boyfriend…”
“You don’t have a boyfriend, Heidi. Not yet. I told you it would be me and I meant it.”
“Ok,” I reply as I move his hand off me. I really wanted to leave it there, but the whole thing just makes me too nervous. He’s so confident and almost arrogant. I bet he’s used to just touching a woman once and having her completely melt into his arms. All he has to do is look deep into her eyes, tell her how beautiful he thinks she is, and bam—before she knows what hit her, she’s sucking his cock in the parking lot.
Nope. That will not be me. Not at all.
My panties are flooded by a rush of wetness as I picture myself going down on him in his open top Camaro.
“You’ve been coming to my brother’s bakery a lot lately,” he says. “I know why. You can’t fool me, Heidi.”
“I told you already. The coffee there is amazing.”
“No, it’s not. It’s the same coffee just about everyone else in Chicago is using. There’s nothing unique about it at all.”
“I guess it’s just me then.”
“Every time you come in; I catch you staring at me. Why are you so afraid? I think it’s obvious that we both want the same thing here.”
“I don’t want a one-night stand with you, Lucas.”
“I didn’t say anything about a one-night stand, Heidi.”
I am saved by the arrival of our dinner. I get very quiet as I eat, and Lucas doesn’t try to pressure me to talk, which is nice of him.
I try not to watch as he eats his lobster. Lucas orders the most expensive and delicious red wine to go with our meal. I distract myself by drinking my half of the bottle a bit too fast…
Which makes me start talking again. “Oh, wow, this steak is so good. And this wine! Oh my God! It’s amazing! This place is great, really. And yes—I was totally stalking you all those times I came to the shop. I’m glad you didn’t find it too weird.”
Lucas laughs as he places his hand back on my now very bouncy leg.
“Someone seems to have opened up quite a bit.”
“It’s this wine!” I exclaim. Yep, more looks of disgust from the snobby looking couples at the other tables.
“I would say we could get a second bottle if you want, but I’m a bit worried that would knock you out.”
“Oh, no. I get energized when I’m drunk. Like really energized, can’t you tell? I am a party girl. Yes, a very big party girl. People love me. They say I make them laugh. That’s great, right? I think everyone should have something they are very good at. For me, it’s making people laugh. For you it’s planning weddings and looking like a Roman God. Oh, damn. Did I say that? Yes, yes I did.”
I slam my palm over my mouth and erupt into giggles. But now I'm pretty sure I’ve really screwed this one up. There’s no way he’s going to want to go on a second date with the tipsy girl.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says. “And funny too. But after dessert I better get you home. It’s the honorable thing to do.”
“No, I don’t wanna go home, Lucas. Take me somewhere. Anywhere you want. Even your place.”
“You don’t mean that right now, sweetie. But we’ll go to my favorite late-night coffee shop and I’ll listen to you talk about anything you want. You can even lean against me. I’d like that.”
“I bet you would. I will too. Let’s have dessert.”
*
As we leave the restaurant, I’m feeling a little better, but still not totally recovered. I accept his offer to lean on him for support as we walk back to his Camaro.
I stumble into the car and giggle as I get myself situated. Lucas keeps a steady hand on me the whole time to assist.
“Ok, so one glass of wine is your maximum. Good to know,” he says.
“Oh my God, I am so embarrassed. Lucas, you have to know that all those things I said about being a party girl are totally not true, ok?”
“I think that’s obvious, sweetheart,” he says as we drive off.
We reach the Pick Me Up Cafe on Clark, and Lucas helps me inside. I’m grateful that I’m on a date with him and not some creep who would have taken advantage of me in my current state. Though I really want Lucas to take advantage of me. Bad. Every time he touches me now, I feel a little jolt go through my entire body. And I am gushing. My panties are soaked, and it almost makes me want to go to the restroom, throw them in the trash, and come back to the table with no panties between me and Lucas’ smooth hands.
But I’m trying to be a good girl, despite the way he turns to look at me as we sit next to each other in the booth. He sips his black coffee as I stare at my cafe con leche and wonder if I really want my breath to smell like coffee. Well, his will, so I guess it’s alright.
“See? This is nice. After we finish, I’ll take you home.”
“You don’t want to spend the night with me?” I ask. This suddenly feels like a rejection, even though deep down I know why. He’s trying to be honorable, and he’s succeeding.
“Well, you’re that into me now, huh? I thought you didn’t even like me,” he says.
“I do like you,” I reply. “And I’m sorry for everything tonight. This is just too much for me, I guess.”
“We’ll take our time. As much as you need. And you have nothing to apologize for.”
“Ok,” I whisper. I feel a little defeated. And my mind is just so conflicted right now that I don’t feel as though I have an ounce of control anymore.
I decide to take matters into my own hands, so to speak. Since I’m feeling more impatient than ever with Lucas, but especially with myself.
I slide a hand across his leg and leave it resting on his crotch. And just as I imagined, his cock is hard and pushing against my palm.
But Lucas grabs my hand and pulls it off him. “I’m not the kinda man who wants to rush a woman. Especially one that I like this much.”
“Damnit!” I exclaim. We both burst into laughter.
*
We drive back to my apartment building, and Lucas escorts me to the door.
We lock eyes, and I smile shyly, before looking down at my feet.
Lucas places a single finger under my chin and tilts my face up towards his. “I had a great time with you tonight. You’re really something else. Completely different from every woman I’ve ever been with.”
“Is that a good thing?” I ask.
“It’s a very good thing. I’d love to get to know you more. I am certain we are going to have a lot of fun together.”
“Do you want to come upstairs for a bit? I could make some tea or pour you a glass of my favorite five-dollar wine. I won’t be having any, of course, but I want to offer.”
“I think it’s best if I don’t come up. I want to take my time with you.”
“Oh.”
