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I bit my lip and wrote a saucy response before deleting it and writing something else. Nervously, my fingers hovered over the “send” button for a few seconds before I slammed my thumb down a little too hard.
What are we doing?
In the minutes it took for him to respond I nearly chewed off my thumbnail. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked, but I didn’t want either of us to assume different things. I didn’t want it to turn into an ugly mess. In all honesty, I was just so happy that we were talking again and the thought of jeopardizing that made me ill.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the text and read his response.
I don’t know, Abbs. I just know that I’m happy I saw you that day at Simone’s. I’m happy you’re home even if it’s only for a little while.
I heaved out a sigh and thought out my response carefully. Apparently I was waiting too long, though, because he texted me again.
I know you won’t be here forever but can’t we just enjoy each other for a little while? Get to know each other again?
Of course I wanted to enjoy him and get to know him again, but I didn’t want either of us to end up empty or broken like last time. But this isn’t going to be like last time. We were both adults. We can handle seeing each other casually.
I don’t want either of us to get hurt.
Which is why we’re both going into this knowing exactly what it is. Come on, Abbs, when’s the last time you had a little fun?
In 2008 when we got drunk off my dad’s scotch and I convinced you to go streaking down Monte Carlo Ave.
That wasn’t fun, I almost got arrested.
I laughed.
That was the best part.
Knox didn’t respond for a few minutes and I wondered if he had fallen asleep. Probably, considering it was after midnight and he opened the gym at seven. He had a point, though. As long as we both knew that nothing long-term was possible we’d have less of a chance of getting hurt. We’d hang out, have some fun and maybe steal a few kisses. It would be harmless.
Let me make you dinner on Friday.
I tapped a finger against my chin before responding.
Are you asking me on a date?
The response was almost instant.
Yes.
Totally harmless, right?
“He’s going to cook for you?” Simone asked as we browsed through the denim section of a local, way overpriced shop. My inner shopaholic wanted to come out and play, but I managed to keep her at bay.
One pair of jeans, I thought to myself. One very cute pair of jeans to wear to Knox’s place tonight. Knox’s house. Just the two of us. My palms weren’t sweating about that or anything.
“Yeah,” I nodded and held up a pair of faded denim. She wrinkled her nose in distaste and I dropped them.
“Nervous?” she asked and grabbed a darker pair with rips in the knees, checked to see if they were my size and then threw them at me.
I nodded. “Too nervous. It’s just Knox, but it’s a date. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been on a date? Especially a date with him.”
“Honey, you’re going to have a great time. He actually hasn’t shut up about you. Every time I see him you’re the first thing he mentions.”
Butterflies settled in my stomach and my inner teenage girl squealed. Would it be weird, though? Was he expecting sex? Because that was something I hadn’t done in a while either.
God, I was a fucking disaster.
“Listen, I know it’s a big deal because it’s Knox and you’ve been in love with him since high school-”
