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“Yes.”
“Well, I can cook, and I like to cook, but I’m unprepared to craft the first meal I’ll ever serve you, which has to be an occasion. It has to have a wow factor. No way I’m blowing that. But I’m hell on wheels with DoorDash. So what do you want?”
I did not pay for the DoorDash, Cap did.
He took off his blazer and shoes, I took off my shoes, we ate in my bed while we talked, and Cleo stared at us with pleading eyes and failed in not slobbering (I felt for her, we’d ordered Raising Cane’s, and that fried chicken smell was probably torture for the poor pooch). In the end, I asked him to spend the night, and he said yes.
So I did my nighttime prep and showed in the room in my nightie to find Cap in my bed, covers up to his waist, shoulders to my padded headboard, his glorious chest on display (it was tan too, and glorious didn’t quite cut it as a descriptive word, I’d have to ask Luna how to describe it, maybe sublime or divine or awe-inspiring or transcendent, but you get the picture).
I crawled in beside him. We cuddled, kept talking, and I fell asleep while doing that.
It was the shittiest first date on record.
Yet it was the best I’d ever had.
I threw the covers off me, went to the bathroom, did my business, brushed my teeth, hit the kitchen, started coffee, grabbed my phone and went back to bed.
There, I called Luna.
“Yo, how was the date?” she answered.
“I lost it after seeing Elsie Fay. Cap brought me home. I cried in his arms for maybe twenty minutes, but probably more like an entire hour. I then bared all about Macy. And Dad. And Mom. He told me some shitty stuff about his life. We ordered DoorDash. He spent the night platonically, and that isn’t just about the fact I’m on my period. And now he’s out walking Cleo for me. Though, he liked the outfit you picked out so much he kissed me about two seconds after he saw me in it, and the man knows how to use his tongue. I didn’t have an orgasm, and still, my clit was completely satisfied.”
“Holy crap.”
“I know.”
“You told him about Macy?”
“Yep.”
Her voice was rising. “On the first date?”
“He already knew the basics. He’d researched me. But, outside sharing about my Citadel, I gave him it all. He held me and listened to me then gave as good as he got. Completely open. Seemingly adjusted. Not daunted by my drama. Not fucked up about his. Not even a little bit, on either, Loon.”
“I…don’t know what to say.”
“Well figure it out, because he’s out walking a dog so he won’t be gone forever, and I need to sort this out.”
“You didn’t even get to the restaurant?”
“I barely remember the car ride home from Elsie Fay’s, I was so messed up. But just to say, the restaurant was gonna be Vincent’s, with Platform 18 after that, and he gave no shits we missed either booking.”
“My Lord,” she breathed reverently. “Vincent’s is an ace-in-the-hole, guaranteed blowjob date on its own. But he also booked Platform 18?”
“Yep.”
“For a first date?”
“I know. Those are totally Valentine’s Day or birthday or fiftieth wedding anniversary locations.”
“He’s in as deep as you,” she proclaimed.
My heart stuttered to a halt.
“You think?” I asked.
“What man gets up before eight on a Saturday to walk a woman’s dog, that’s not even her dog, after she blubbers in his arms, lays some heavy shit on him and makes him lose his Platform 18 deposit? It’s a sheer miracle he didn’t sneak out in the middle of the night to go home and then immediately block your number on his phone.”
