by Long, Marie
He looks thoughtful for a moment, then narrows his eyes. “Chest or band?”
“What?”
“Chest, then.” He does some counting on his fingers. “The way you make it sound, she’s pretty big, so I’m thinking maybe around a thirty-five band.” His eyes suddenly go wide. Dude! You realize that’s probably a double-D cup?”
I blink. Several times. Did he just calculate her bra size in his head? It amazes me that Chris practically has this down to a science.
“Are they real?”
I shrug. “Never said they were real. I honestly have no idea. Guess you’ll have to find that part out yourself, now won’t you?”
“Damn right, I will!” He springs up from the couch and marches to his room, napkin in hand.
The old Chris is back. Never thought I’d actually be glad about it.
* * *
Noon rolls around and I can’t take it anymore. It’s seven hours till my date with Denise, but I really want to call her to hear her voice again. I dig the folded paper out of my wallet and hastily dial her number. She answers on the third ring.
My heart pounds. Her voice is beautiful on the other end. “H-Hi, Denise. It’s Dominick.”
“I thought I told you to call me when you’re about to leave?”
I bite my bottom lip. I can’t tell if she’s just joshing me or really annoyed that I called too early. “Sorry, uh, if you’re busy, I can go …"
I’m met with silence on the other end. Did she hang up on me?
“No,” she finally says, and I exhale a quiet sigh of relief. “I got back from the study group not long ago. But I have to go do laundry in a bit.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll let you go do that. You still up for the date tonight?”
“‘Date?’ I thought we specifically agreed on ‘dinner,’ not a ‘date.’” I can practically hear the smile in her voice.
“Isn’t it the same thing?”
“Not quite, but I’ll let it slide for now. So we’re still on for Jade Fusion?”
“Yep. I’ll see you around seven.”
“I’ll be waiting. Later, Dominick.”
I open my mouth, trying to think of something more to say, trying to think of a way to keep hearing her voice for a little while longer, when I’m met with the buzzing sound of the ended call.
My heart swells with excitement. How ridiculous is this? I feel like I’m back in high school on my first date. I haven’t gone out on a date—a real date—in months, maybe even a year. The few girls I ended up with since starting college turned out different than I expected, and they all moved on to the next guy.
But Denise seems genuine. Like the girl I always wanted in my life but could never get.
With seven hours to spare, I can’t keep still. I call the restaurant and make reservations, and then rummage through the clothes in my closet for the white button-down shirt that has my motorcycle club’s emblem embroidered on the left side. The graphic is small and abstract, like a tattoo design. I also find a pair of casual black pants. With the clothes draped over my arm, I head to the kitchen, grabbing the iron and ironing board from the hall closet along the way. While I’m unfolding the ironing board, Chris’s door creaks open from down the hall.
Chris stops at the kitchen doorway, his phone in one hand, and a bright smile on his face. I’ve not seen a smile that wide on him in a very long time. He’d been in his room all morning on the phone, so I assume his chat with Adrienne went well. But as soon as he notices me ironing, his glow turns to curiosity. “Holy shit, we have an iron?”
I roll my eyes. “You mean I have an iron.”
“Right. So what’s up with this?”
“I told you, I have a date tonight. We’re going to Jade.”
“The Asian place?” He whistles. “All the girls seem to like eating there.”
“It’s got atmosphere.”
“Heh. Well, you must really love this new girl or something.”
I smile. Sure feels like it. I turn the heat setting to Delicate to iron the shirt. “What’s up with you and Adrienne?” I look back up at him in time to see him beaming again.
“Well, at first, she was like, ‘who’s this creepy guy calling me?’ so I let her know what was up. Put the charms on her, y’know.”
I guffaw.
“She wondered where ‘the guy from the club’ was, and I told her you were my roommate, but a bit of a flake, and to not expect you to call her.”
I reset the iron and glare at him. “You what?”
“Hey, I had to think of something, dude.” He shrugs. “Anyway, we swapped pics, and she sounded totally interested. Even said I was hot! Can you believe it?”
Picking up the iron again, I resume pressing my shirt. “No, I honestly can’t believe it.”
He gives me the finger, but I ignore it.
“We’re going to the movies tonight, then to one of her girlfriends’ house parties.” Chris’s face lights up. “Dude! You should bring your new girl, too. We can make it a double date.”
I gawk at him. “You can’t be serious.”
Chris laughs. “I’m telling you. We can show off our hot new chicks at that party.”
“Naw. I’m taking things slow. I’m not gonna fuck up this date. And how the hell do you know if Adrienne is hot? You haven’t even seen her.”
“I told you, we swapped pics. Holy shit, she looks amazing!”
I shut the iron off, set it aside, and carefully fold my shirt and pants. “How do you know the picture is even real? She could’ve manipulated it or something.”
“Nope. This pic is as real as it gets. Look!” He shows me his phone.
The picture is his current wallpaper. It’s definitely Adrienne. She’s wearing the same red dress from the club. She strikes a teasing selfie pose, angling the camera in such a way that it looks like the top of her dress is barely covering her tits. The peaks of her nipples create small beads beneath the fabric. I wonder if she took that picture last night? Probably intended to send it to me whenever I called. I’m glad it’s Chris who got the pic and not me. “Yup. That’s definitely her, all right.”
Chris nods. “No kidding! Oh, and her boobs are a single D, not double. She looks between thirty-five and thirty-eight inches. But they are most definitely all real.”
I arch an eyebrow. “You can tell all that from a picture?”
“Of course I can! I’ve seen and felt enough of them to know the difference.”
I shake my head. “Right. Well, hopefully, for your sake, she’s a keeper.” I pause and cast him a look. “You are going to try and keep her, right?”
He stiffens. “I dunno. That depends on her. Why are you so insistent on me keeping a girl? It’s getting old.”
“Because, frankly, I’m sick of your shit every time you dump a girl the day after sleeping with her.”
“I don’t dump them. They dump me.” He grimaces, perhaps realizing how utterly pathetic that sounds.
“Yeah,” I say, “they dump you because they find out you were sleeping with five other girls just hours before them.”
“Dude, get off my back about it, all right? I’ve yet to find ‘the one,’ and I’m not ready to settle. Not everyone’s all prim and proper like you, Dom.”
I grunt. “I’m far from being a saint, but I also don’t want to be known as a guy who fucks anything that moves, either.”
Chris narrows his eyes at me. “What the hell are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying to just give Adrienne a chance, will you? Please?”
“Well, she’s my new wallpaper now, so that’s a start, ain’t it?” He looks at his phone, and the annoyed look on his face lifts.
I’ve known Chris since high school, and he never sets a picture of a girl as his wallpaper unless he’s really interested in her. Perhaps there is hope for him, but I’m not holding my breath. “Fair enough.”
“I told her to come by here. She’ll be over in an hour or so.”
My jaw drops. �
��What? Why the hell did you do that?”
He gives a light shrug and heads for the living room. “She insisted on coming over. Who am I to reject a girl with such beautiful boobs who thinks I’m hot?”
“You’ve lost it, man.” I shake my head.
“What can I say?” Chris says from down the hall. “That girl makes me crazy! Now help me clean up the living room, will you?”
Chris? Cleaning? Maybe he really has gone crazy.
* * *
The five hours remaining feel like an eternity. I sprawl on the couch with the TV on, but I’m too distracted to watch it. I can’t stop thinking about Denise. I want to call her again, but I restrain myself. The last thing I want to do is creep her out with my constant calling. Besides, she’s probably busy doing laundry. I wonder what she’s gonna wear to dinner.
A sudden knock at the door makes my heart race. I spring up from the couch, rush to the door, and peer through the peephole.
It’s Adrienne.
She knocks again, and Chris suddenly yells from behind me, “Got it!”
I jump and spin around. Where did he come from?
Chris, wearing one of his favorite pro football jerseys, pushes me aside. “I told you, I got it.”
I take the opportunity to disappear. “Keep her away from me,” I mutter then head for the stairs. I hide in the stairway and listen. When I hear the door open, I peek around the corner.
Adrienne enters wearing a short denim skirt and a white spaghetti-strap camisole, which strains to accommodate her large tits. She furrows her thin, penciled eyebrows at Chris as she slowly walks around in black, open-toe stilettos, assessing him like a doctor diagnosing a patient.
I could swear I see Chris wipe some drool from the side of his mouth.
Adrienne finally stops in front of him. “Chris?”
He gawks at her, as if she has him under some magical spell. “Yeah … That’s me,” he says breathily.
She grins. “You look even hotter in person.”
You’ve got to be shitting me.
“Yeah?” Chris winks. “Well, you know. I aim to please.”
“So where’s that flakey roommate of yours? I kinda wanna put my foot up his ass for not calling me like he said he would.” She says this so innocently, it’s a little frightening.
“Ah, you just missed him. He’s a bit unreliable and scared as shit of girls. Especially the beautiful ones.”
I clench my jaw. Fuck you.
Adrienne flicks a lock of her ebony, red-streaked hair from her face. Her stylish bob looks like she just left the salon before coming here. “Shame, ’cause he was cute. Probably has a nice ass, too. Too bad it’s going to have an imprint of my foot on it when I see him again.” She crosses her arms and cocks a hip.
Chris’s eyes are clearly drawn downward, most likely to her tits. “Uh … y-yeah, Dom’s such a dick, isn’t he?” He looks up for a moment, and then his gaze drifts downward again. “Can I, uh … get you something to drink? Water? A beer? Milk?”
I roll my eyes. Oh for fuck’s sake. He’s going to blow his chances before the date even starts.
Surprisingly, Adrienne laughs. “No, thanks. I am a little hungry, though.” She leans up against the back of the couch, her arms still crossed. “How does Chinese sound?”
Chris manages to lift his eyes again. “Sounds great. So this is officially a date, then?”
“It’s lunch.” Adrienne uncrosses her arms. “You’re not just some guy looking for a one-night stand, are you?”
“Yes—I mean—no! Hell no! Fuck it, let’s go eat.” He takes Adrienne by the arm and leads her out the door.
I remain in my hiding place and listen to the muffled sounds of car doors slamming and an engine starting. The sounds fade into silence, and I come out from hiding.
I can’t believe that actually worked.
Chapter 6
Six thirty can’t come fast enough. I fiddle around with the GPS maps on my phone to find the quickest route to Denise’s house. She lives only ten minutes away, and not far from downtown, where the restaurant is. I give myself one last check in the mirror and remember to grab a spare helmet out of the closet on my way out. As I start up the engine, I suddenly have a thought: what if she’s afraid of motorcycles? I guess if she refuses to ride with me, we could just take her car. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to spend time with her, but I hope she won’t be scared to ride.
The traffic in town isn’t bad for an early Saturday night. I reach Denise’s house about fifteen minutes early. Her neighborhood is quiet and quaint, with picket fences in front of almost every house. I park my bike along the curb, set my jacket and helmet on the seat, and head up the walkway leading to her small, white house. I ring the bell and stuff my hands in my pockets. Beyond the screen door, an inner door opens.
It’s not Denise.
The woman steadily chews her gum while she stares at me with cold, calculating, dark brown eyes. She looks older, maybe early-to-mid forties. She tilts her dreadlocked head and looks down her nose at me. “Yes? Who’re you?” she asks in a thick, Caribbean accent.
I clear my throat, trying not to let her stare faze me. “Hi, I’m Dominick. I’m supposed to pick up Denise. Is she here?”
Dreads blows a small, pink bubble. “Denise, eh?” She raises an eyebrow, then cranes her neck and looks beyond me. “So where’s your ride?”
I thumb over my shoulder. “There.”
She blinks. “You shittin’ me, right?”
I shake my head, but before I can answer aloud, footsteps approach and Denise appears behind Dreads. She pushes past her and opens the screen door. Denise wears a blue dress over black leggings. Her hair is cornrowed in the front, with the back twisted out into a cascading ponytail of thick, curly hair. Her smooth, caramel face doesn’t look made up, but her full lips glisten with some kind of sparkly, peach-colored lip gloss. The only jewelry she wears is a pair of small silver hoop earrings and a silver necklace with a charm in the shape of a fleur de lis. My heart skips several beats as I take her in. When she smiles at me, I practically melt.
God, she’s beautiful.
“Hi, Dominick,” Denise says to me as she steps outside. She’s wearing black flats, perfect should we go on an after-dinner walk.
Dreads places a hand on Denise’s shoulder, stopping her. “Hey. You’re not actually going out with this carless deadbeat, are you?”
I lift an eyebrow. Deadbeat?
Denise looks back at her. “I just met him, Lauren. He fixed my car, and we agreed on dinner.”
Dreads—Lauren—pops her gum. “He fixes cars and doesn’t have one of his own? What’s wrong with that picture, hmm?”
I frown. I have a driver’s license, but I didn’t want a car when I came to college.
“What are you talking about?” Denise asks, looking back and forth between me and Lauren.
Lauren points outside. “Look at what he intends to drive you around in … or should I say on.”
Denise follows Lauren’s direction and gasps. “A motorcycle?” She looks back at me and pales. “You’ve got to be out of your mind, Dominick!”
I grimace. This was not how I wanted our night to start out. “There’s nothing to worry about, Denise. I’ll make sure you’re perfectly safe. You can even use my jacket so you don’t get cold.”
“’Ey, now,” Lauren interjects. “She’s not gettin’ on that thing! It’s a death trap. What kind of man fixes cars and doesn’t have one of his own, anyway, hmm?”
Is this woman her roommate or her mother? I don’t feel like arguing with Lauren. “We can take your car if you want, Denise,” I say in a calm voice, ignoring the other woman. “I don’t own a car. I’ve had other passengers before, though, and I’ve kept all of them safe.”
Denise doesn’t respond.
Damn it. I’m fucking this up.
“‘Other passengers,’ hmm?” Lauren says. “Other girlfriends?”
It takes everything I have to keep my c
ool. She could very well be Denise’s mother.
Denise turns away from me. Her shoulders slump, and she seems disheartened, a little fearful. She doesn’t trust me. I’m not sure what to say or do.
“Lauren, let me talk to Dominick in private, please.” Denise says.
Lauren scoffs. “You’ve gotta be shittin’ me, D.”
Denise shakes her head. “Please.”
Lauren gives me the stinkeye. Sucking her teeth, she reluctantly spins on her heel and disappears inside, shutting the inner door behind her.
I exhale quietly, relieved to be alone with Denise. Being this close to her makes my heart beat faster. Her fresh scent, a mix of pears and cocoa butter, tickles my nose. Everything about her arouses me.
“Sorry about that,” Denise says. “Lauren can be like a mother hen sometimes. She’s a friend of the family, and going back to school for her PhD, so we ended up as roommates. She’s always looked out for me since I was a kid.”
I make a sour face. “But you’re a grown woman. You don’t need that kind of … supervision.”
She smiles. “She means well. Really, she does. She’s just had some issues in the past. I shouldn’t say.” She pauses and bites her bottom lip. “Just go easy on her, all right?”
I shrug. It sounded serious, but it’s none of my business, and I’m not gonna pry. “Fine.”
“So, about that motorcycle … ”
I sigh deeply. “I just thought that—”
“We were going to Jade Fusion. Does it look like I’m dressed to ride a damn motorcycle?”
I cringe. Not really, but you do look stunning. “Look, if you really don’t wanna ride, we can take your car.”
She looks thoughtful. “Were you really expecting me to get on that thing?”
The fact that she doesn’t acknowledge my previous comment tells me that she might possibly be reconsidering. God, I sure hope so. “I didn’t know what to expect, but I had hoped you might have been feeling a little adventurous tonight.”
“It looks dangerous.”
“Life is dangerous sometimes.”
“What if I fall off?”
