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You’re welcome, by the way.
And for anyone who was subjected to seeing their favorite vibrator sitting on a park bench, I’d like to apologize on behalf of Alma for your trauma.
Thankfully, I was able to push tomorrow’s long list of work to-do’s out of my head and shut my eyes.
Sleep had been the number one man in my life for as long as I could remember.
Well, sleep and Adam Levine.
I’d been a Maroon 5 fan forever. We’re talking in-utero crushing. If I ever found the musical balls to audition for The Voice, you could bet your sweet ass I’d be Team Adam all the livelong day.
But that was a pipe dream.
I’d be more likely to run into Adam Levine at the fucking dollar spot at Target than meet him while auditioning on an internationally known reality show.
But, sleep? Well, he wasn’t a mere pipe dream. He was the real deal.
My main squeeze.
And he and I were about to get all kinds of up close and personal.
I shut my eyes and my breathing slowed, and just before my nocturnal Casanova wrapped his big, strong arms around me, my phone vibrated across my nightstand and echoed off the otherwise silent walls of my bedroom.
With my eyes still closed, I groaned and turned over onto my side to haphazardly grab my phone. Once the little vibrating bitch was in my hands, I peeked my eyes open to find Incoming FaceTime Call: Leo flashing across the screen.
FaceTime? What the hell?
For no apparent reason besides pure shock, my heart pounded inside my chest, and I hid myself and my phone under the covers.
Why was he FaceTiming me?
Besides the embarrassing urine collection session and the awkward lunch with his great-aunt, we’d been on one date.
Surely, that did not translate to FaceTime calls.
Text messages? Of course.
Phone calls? Definitely.
But FaceTime? I don’t think so, Leonard.
We hadn’t reached the date number five threshold where I started showing myself sans makeup and living my truth of being a real girl who poops and has a tendency to get all kinds of bitchy on days one through three of her period.
As of right now, with only date number one in the history books?
I was a glowing, airbrushed goddess who never had to shit, smelled of roses after a five-mile run, and only ate portion-appropriate meals.
I sure as fuck didn’t answer FaceTime calls in the middle of the night when I looked like Hagrid from Harry Potter.
I had a rep to protect until I’d fully won him over with my girlish charm.
Thankfully, the vibrating rings came to a halt and a missed FaceTime call tallied itself in my call log.
I stared at my phone and tried to comprehend the situation, and eventually, came to the conclusion that it had to have been an accidental FaceTime call.
A FaceTime butt dial, so to speak.
With my fingers to the keys, I tapped out a quick text message and hit send.
Me: I think you butt-dialed me.
His response came thirty seconds later.
Leo: Why didn’t you answer?
Me: Because I figured it was an accident.
Leo: But it wasn’t an accident.
Shock registered itself on my face in the form of wide eyes and a parted mouth. I was the real-live version of one of the sex dolls men could purchase from Alma’s site for the bargain price of $29.95.
Me: You FaceTimed me on purpose???
Leo: And that’s a bad thing because…?
Me: No, not bad. Just…kind of weird.
Leo: Weird? LOL. How is that weird?
Me: Because we haven’t reached date number five yet.
Leo: And date number five is when FaceTime calls are allowed? Is there some dating rule book I’m not aware of?
Me: More of a silent, unwritten rule book. It’s the personal-intimacy-dam-breaching date.
Leo: I’ve never really been the kind of guy who plays by the rules, sweetheart. And I’m not sure how FaceTime prematurely breaches any personal intimacy barriers. Are you naked? Is that why this is a problem?
Panicked, I answered the only part of his text that seemed relevant. I wasn’t just lounging around at my nudist colony retreat. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t sure I’d ever wandered around my apartment naked when there wasn’t a sexual reason.
Me: I’m not naked!
Leo: I’m going to FaceTime you again. How about you answer this time?
Every stubborn bone in my body stood at attention as I shook my head. My vagina wasn’t blowing in the wind, but I looked like hell after a tornado. No way I was answering that call.
Me: Nope.
Leo: Answer the call, Gemma.
Me: I can’t. It will ruin the whole allure. I can’t have you seeing me look like Hagrid before we’ve even gone out on our second date.
Leo: Who is Hagrid?
Had he seriously just asked me that?
The entire fucking world and their moms should’ve known who Hagrid was.
Me: YOU DON’T KNOW HAGRID FROM HARRY POTTER?
Leo: Are you talking about those movies with the little wizard boy?
