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“No, you’re not. You have plans with me Sunday night.”
“Perfect. What are those plans?”
“Do you trust me?”
There was a long pause before I heard her draw in a deep breath.
“I probably shouldn't, but I do.”
“Why do you say th
at?” I asked.
“I don’t know you well. Or at all, really. But… there is something about you I trust. Something that makes me feel…”
I hung onto her words and was disappointed when she didn’t finish that statement.
“You can say anything to me, Jessica. I’ll never judge you.”
“It just sounds so silly.”
“I promise it won’t.”
“There’s something about you that makes me feel safe.”
“Why would that be silly?” I asked.
“I don’t know, I guess.”
“That’s fine. But it’s not silly. I’m glad you feel safe around me.”
“Me, too. But you’re really not going to tell me what we’re doing?”
“Nope. I’m only going to tell you that I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock at your place. So, I’ll need your address.”
“My roommate and I have this rule that men we don’t know well don’t come inside,” she said.
“That’s a good rule to have. Then I won’t come inside. I can call you when I’m there and you can come down to me.”
“Then, it sounds like a date. But can you at least give me a hint so I know what to wear?”
“Wear what makes you feel beautiful. There’s no dress code. Be comfortable and feel your best. That’s all I ask.”
“I’m sure that’s not all you ask.”
“It’s all I can ask while being appropriate in the daylight.”
I’d never get sick of her small giggles, and I made a silent commitment to pull as many from her lips as I could Sunday night.
“So, Sunday at eight. Wear something that makes me feel good. Should I come hungry?” she asked.
“You should.”
“Heels or sandals?”
“Whatever works for you.”
“Panties or no panties?”
