Claim: Volume One

by Ashley Suzanne

“Hi. Can I help you?” I ask sweetly, not wanting to offend, but wanting to know what he wants.

  “Are you Loren?”

  “I am. And you are?” Confusion must be written all over my face, because he kindly grins and takes a seat across from me. I’m about to ask him to leave, to tell him I’m waiting for someone, when he begins to speak again.

  “Hi, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Joel.” No. He’s not Joel. Joel wears suits and has a chiseled from the God’s face. This man’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans with an even larger shirt with sneakers. Not even nice sneakers, but ones that should have been retired a few years ago.

  “I’m sorry. Joel?” There’s no possible way he’s who he says he is.

  “Sure am. I’m glad you wanted to meet today. My Dungeons and Dragons group couldn’t meet until later tonight and this beats hanging out with my grandma any day.” Oh fuck no. No. I … no.

  “You look a lot different than you picture.” How does one say this nicely without coming off like a shallow asshole?

  “Oh, yeah. I had another picture up a few weeks ago, but it didn’t get a lot of response, so I found this one online and decided to use it. I don’t know why they didn’t like my last one, though. Who doesn’t love anime?” You have to be shitting me.

  I’m not naturally a mean person, but how can I not be pissed and want to say something? I have to. He tricked me and I feel played. This isn’t okay.

  “Joel, I don’t know how to say this without offending you, but I’m going to try anyway.” I take a deep breath and try to think of a nice way to get my point across. “You fooled me. You didn’t portray yourself as who you really were. And now, I’m feeling guilty about wanting to leave because I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  “Can you honestly say that if I would have used my real picture you would have still met me for coffee?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure, we’ll never know since you didn’t give me the chance to get to know you. I was tricked into coming here under false pretenses of meeting the man in the picture. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Have coffee with me. That’s what you came here to do. Why leave now? We can at least talk.” The look on his face breaks my heart. I understand why he did what he did; Joel’s not exactly the kind of guy women are fighting to be with, but it doesn’t make it right. Going against my better judgment, I decide to stick around for the rest of our catfished date.

  Over the next half an hour, we talk about a variety of different things, stemming from music to television shows. When he’s not talking about Dungeons and Dragons or anime, he’s a pretty cool guy. We share a lot of the same interests. Not enough to make me want to ditch Nolan for him, but enough to say I wouldn’t mind being his friend.

  As we’re getting up to leave, I give him my email address and he makes me promise to watch some show about zombies, calling it the greatest show on TV. I accept his challenge and advise him to check out Sons of Anarchy. We agree to email each other after every season until we’re caught up and can watch them live. It really wasn’t all that bad. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still upset he turned out to be a liar, but what can I do?

  Honestly, I was kind of hoping I would meet Joel, he’d be the man in the picture, and prove to me that I’m wanting Nolan too much and should cast my net a little wider and meet a few more guys. All Joel’s fake profile did was prove to me it’s a scary dating world out there and I’m lucky to have met Nolan my first time internet dating.

  I probably should follow my gut and give him a shot. A real shot. Not back away when I start to feel things. It might be too soon, I might be a little wacky, but they’re my feelings and they’re valid no matter how much I try to suppress them.

  Chapter Eight

  Loren

  With only one day left in the work week, I’m more than happy to begin the weekend. Plus, I have a date with Nolan tonight. He texted early this morning, I assume on his way to work, to let me know his football team made the playoffs and they had an away game on Saturday and he needed to switch our date to tonight as opposed to tomorrow. It’s perfectly fine with me. I’d rather see him sooner than later.

  Jordan’s not shown his face around the office, but I have a feeling he’s in town. All that’s fine with me, as long as he steers clear of me until I’m ready to see him or if it’s for a professional reason.

  On my way out of the office, I grab a few files I should work on over the weekend and speed walk out the doors. If someone sees me and needs something, I could very possibly be stuck here for hours. Out of all the nights in the year that I’ll work overtime to help out the company, tonight’s just not one of those nights. I have me a date with cowboy.

  ****

  Since Nolan’s not going to be here for an hour and a half, I enjoy myself with an extra long, extra hot shower, shaving all the prickly hairs on my legs and bikini line and scrubbing each and every inch of my body with the loufa until my skin’s as soft as possible. Taking the extra time to rinse, lather and repeat, my hair’s going to be the best it’s ever been. After I’m satisfied with the results, I wrap myself in a towel and search out the perfect outfit.

  Cleo got me this adorable little dress with a floral print and it looks amazing with a jean jacket over top and paired with my cowboy boots from the other night, I’ll look like his perfect match. Quickly dressing after checking the time, I sit down at my makeup table and put the finishing touches on my masterpiece—light hues on my eyes, a clear gloss on my lips and a few swipes of the magnificent mascara Cleo talked me into buying on my lashes. I swear it makes them look like falsies, but I promise they’re mine.

  Standing in front of the mirror on the back of my door, I snap a picture and send it to Cleo. It’s not more than a few seconds after the message sends that she responds with “YES. YESYESYESYES!” Thanking her for the boost in my self-esteem, I take a seat on the couch, making sure everything I’ll need to take with me is nearby and wait for Nolan to arrive.

  Ten minutes before he’s supposed to be here, a knock on the door pulls me out of my own head. Standing, I smooth out my skirt and check the peephole—Nolan. Opening the door, I usher him inside while I get my purse. When I turn back toward him, he’s standing in my doorway holding a bouquet of flowers, dressed in a white button-up shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a pair of tight jeans and those damn boots. He’s not wearing his hat, but that’s perfectly fine. His dark locks are styled in a messy, I-just-woke-up-and-left-the-house-looking-this-sexy kind of way. It’s drool inspiring.

  “I hope you like lilies,” he says, handing me the flowers in his hand.

  “I love them.” They’re my favorite. When I was a little girl, I always said at my wedding I wanted lilies instead of roses. Okay, need to think of things other than weddings. Anything other than that.

  Pulling a vase from under the sink, the one I bought just in case a guy ever came over bearing flowers—which hasn’t happened until now—I fill it with water and deposit the lilies inside. Carrying the vase to the dining room, I push aside the files I brought home and place them in the center.

  “Beautiful,” I mutter, surveying my new centerpiece courtesy of Nolan.

  “We should get going so we don’t miss the band.” Picking up my purse, I walk behind Nolan until we’re out the front door, where he takes my hand and leads me to the truck. Opening the passenger door, he helps me inside, then walks around to his side and climbs in.

  “You look stunning tonight, Loren.” A weird feeling I had forgotten all about stirs something in my stomach. Butterflies? Possibly, but I’m not going to get ahead of myself tonight.

  “Thanks. You look pretty handsome yourself.” This is uncharted territory for me. I’m never usually nervous on dates, but this one, I can feel my hands sweating. I keep rubbing them on the fabric of the seat just in case he wants to hold my hand. Thankfully, he keeps both of his on the steering wheel, occasionally reaching for the radio to turn up the song.

  His gentleman behavi
or continues when we reach the bar and he helps me from the truck, opens the door for me, and even goes as far as to pull out my seat at the table he reserved near the back of the bar so we can still talk and hear the band. He thought of everything.

  “I figured we can listen to the band and grab some dinner afterward, if that’s okay with you?”

  “Sounds perfect.” I need a little time before I can even think of eating anything. Luckily, he doesn’t push the drinking, either, not putting up a hassle when I order a water instead of a beer.

  His buddies’ band isn’t anything like his—they’re playing a mix of newer rock music and a lot of older stuff I know. We don’t really talk, just enjoy each other’s company, which is nice. I’ve been on enough first dates to know men usually like to try to get to know the woman really quick so they don’t feel bad for trying to get in their pants by the end of the night. I haven’t even gotten the slightest inclination that Nolan’s interested in anything more than what we’re doing right now.

  “They’re really good,” I say loudly over the music.

  “Yeah. The bass player. That’s my kid brother. Taught him everything he knows.” The pride in his eyes is unmistakable. This isn’t just his friend’s band; it’s his family. Unlike a few nights ago, I feel honored he’d bring me to somewhere so familiar to him, a place that’s his to meet people who are important to him.

  Taking the lead, I grab his hand under the table and intertwine our fingers. He smiles, pulls our hands to the tabletop, kissing the tops of my knuckles. The moment his lips hit my skin, all I can think is that I want them on mine. I want to taste him. Hell, I just want him.

  The last song the band plays before their break is the same one Nolan played for me the other night when we were alone. It’s a good rendition, but nothing on how Nolan performs. When the lead singer lets the crowd know they’ll be back in ten, the bass player comes over to our table and introduces himself.

  “Hey, I’m Jeremy. You must be Loren,” he offers, taking my free hand and shaking it. How adorable is this kid. He looks identical to Nolan, only missing the dimples and the muscles. Other than that, they very well could be twins.

  “I am. It’s nice to meet you. Your band is wonderful.”

  “You’re right, Nolan, she’s pretty awesome.” Nolan blushes with his brother’s comment, looking similar to how I did after Cleo called him Mr. Dimples to his face. I can now see how he thought that was cute and nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m flattered he’s already talked about me to his brother.

  “Oh shush, he’s the awesome one.” I squeeze Nolan’s hand. “Should we get a round of drinks?” My nerves suddenly fly away, leaving me feeling like I’m where I’m supposed to be with people I’ve known forever. It’s easy with Nolan and even easier with his family. I don’t feel out of place or freaked out anymore. I feel … perfect.

  “The kid’s only twenty. No drinks for him.”

  “Come on. Just one? I won’t tell Brad. I swear.” Watching the interaction between them is endearing. I have no siblings so I have no idea the dynamic of brotherhood, but if I did have someone else growing up, I’d hope it was like Jeremy and Nolan.

  “Yeah, come on. Don’t be a baby,” I defend Jeremy. Deciding to not listen to the argument from Nolan, I walk up to the bar and bring back three beers, handing one to Nolan, another to Jeremy and taking the last one back to my seat. “There. It’s handled. Problem solved. Enjoy, Jeremy.”

  “You better marry her, Nolan. If you don’t, I will.” It’s my turn to blush while Nolan chuckles. Yeah, I can see myself falling in love with him and his family.

  “We’re gonna take off after these beers. You good to get home with Brad?”

  “Yeah. You better get Loren out of here. I think she’s rethinking dating you and wants to get a piece of your little, but sexier brother.” I spit a mouthful of beer across the table and the boys burst into a fit of laughter, deep husky voices with matching chuckles, complete with shaking shoulders and slaps on the back.

  ****

  The restaurant Nolan picks is not anything I would have ever assumed. I figured we’d end up at a small diner or something where we could talk, but we don’t even leave the bar. Walking outside the main doors, Nolan leads me to the staircase on the outside of the building. Allowing me to go first, I worry about him looking up my dress, but then remember I wore my sexy, white lace thong with matching bra, so I’m good. If he gets a peek, at least it’s a good one I have nothing to be embarrassed about.

  At the top of the staircase, there’s a small table set up on the roof, complete with lit candles on the table and a little light illuminating from the window. “What’s this?” I ask, confused how he could put all of this together if we’ve been together the whole night.

  “It’s my idea of a perfect date. You said you wanted someone to go outside the box and try something new. Well, here’s something new. I can pretty much guarantee you’ve never seen a band and had dinner on a private roof.”

  “You got me there. This is definitely outside the box. Very romantic. Thank you for actually reading my profile. It’s nice to have someone interested in me for a change.”

  “There’s nothing about you that doesn’t interest me.” Thankfully I’m sitting when he says this, because if I was standing, there’s a good chance my knees would have buckled and I might have fainted. When little girls dream of their perfect boyfriend, they’re envisioning Nolan. No doubt about it.

  He disappears inside the door on the roof, returning with a dish of pasta which he serves on both of our plates. During our meal, we joke and talk about our favorite things, those little things that the website wanted us to give away before we even met. I was right, these conversations should be saved for when you’re actually dating. Knowing everything about someone before you get a chance to meet them ruins the surprise.

  “That was wonderful,” I say, pushing my plate toward the center of the table so I don’t eat any more.

  “It’s the one thing I can actually cook.”

  “Well, you have one more dish than I do. I can’t cook for shit. I’ve actually burned hardboiled eggs before.”

  “How the hell do you do that?”

  “Don’t ask.”

  After we polish off a glass of wine, we head down the stairs and back to his truck. “This was the best date I’ve ever been on. Thank you.”

  “Great. Now I have to make the next one even better.” I can’t lie and say I’m not really excited that he wants to go on another date. I seriously lucked out with him.

  The ride back to my house is filled with us singing along to the radio again, much like the other night, other than he lets me control the station. He doesn’t seem too happy with my choices, scrunching his nose when I belt out every word to Katy Perry’s Dark Horse, complete with dance moves and everything. My comfort level with him is strange even to me. It usually takes me a few weeks to warm up to someone the way I am with him.

  Maybe because it’s meant to be? I don’t know, and I’m also not going to question it. I’m just going to live in the moment and be happy.

  Chapter Nine

  Loren

  Nolan pulls in my driveway behind my car and kills the engine. Again, and it still catches me off guard, he walks around to open my door. But it doesn’t stop there. Taking my hand in his, he walks me to my front door and waits for me to fish my keys out of my bag before giving me a kiss on the cheek.

  I want more and maybe it’s because this date was nothing short of amazing. My first impression of Nolan only seems to prove true time and time again. I’m keeping myself in check because all I want to do is tell him we’re running away, getting married and we’re going to live happily ever after. All those women I would make fun of for doing the same thing … I’m starting to regret how I’ve talked about them.

  Love at first sight just might be a real thing. It happens. If these feelings I’m having are pointing me in the right direction, I’m just about head over heels for t
his man. Regardless of how jaded my heart’s been over the past few years after all the shitty relationships I’ve been in, Nolan’s broken right though that tough-as-nails exterior. I just want to be happy with him.

  He very well could be my happy ending. Well, in the future, he’ll be my perfect finish, but for now I really need to remember we’ve only been on a couple dates and saying anything like this to him would just frighten him off.

  “I had a wonderful time,” I say, fumbling with my keys. Cliché, I know, but until you’re in the situation, you don’t really know what to do. This seems natural.

  “I did, too. I’ll call you later in the week and we’ll plan something for next weekend.” My heart backflips. He’s feeling something for me as well. It’s not just a one-sided emotion. He wants to see me again. The smile on my face matches his.

  “I’d really like that.” Now, do I ask him to come inside? Is that too forward? Will he assume I’m just another run of the mill sluts? Or, is he expecting me to put out? Oh, this is too much. Not many dates of mine in the past have gotten me to the point where I’m freaking out about the next words that come out of my mouth.

  “Would you like to come in?” I blurt out, immediately regretting it. A pained look crosses his face and I wish I would have just left well enough alone.

  “I can’t tonight; I have an early shift in the morning. Next time?” At least I’m not the only one who feels uncomfortable and awkward. He barely stumbled through his excuses of work … on a Sunday.

  “No problem. I’ll talk to you later.” I abruptly turn, fumbling for the right key and shove it in the lock. Before I’m able to turn the tumbler inside, I feel Nolan’s hands on my shoulders, squeezing lightly and he nuzzles his face into my hair.

  “I really want to. I just can’t right now.” Slowly, I spin to face him, staring up into his blue eyes. There’s something more to him. I no longer feel like he’s blowing me off but might have a legitimate reason to not want to come inside. I still don’t believe he has to work, but it’s something serious.