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Braden
I cannot stop thinking of my blind date girl.Firecracker.I’ve spent the entire day hanging on every text she sends, waiting for the next moment of connection, the next sassy comment, the next spark I can feel right through my phone. And now I’m waiting to hear that warm, sultry voice.
I turn my phone screen on again. Seven fifty-nine. Almost time. Would it be ridiculous to call a minute early? Or is it ridiculous that I’m even worrying about that? Fuck, I have no game whatsoever. Not that I want to play games with her, but I don’t want to seem like an inexperienced idiot either.
Eight o’clock. Finally. I dial her number, and she answers on the first ring. “Hello, mystery man.”
“Firecracker. How was your day?”
Her deep inhale has me wondering what she looks like, imagining her chest rising and falling. “Well, you talked to me through most of it.” She pauses, lowering her voice. “It was good. How was yours?”
I think back through my day. Talking to her is what stands out most in my mind, until I remember my conversation with Vince. “A little crazy,” I say.
“Crazy, huh? Like the rest of your life?”
“Something like that.”
“Tell me, mystery man.”
“I’m not sure you can handle it,” I say playfully. Mostly because if we dive into this, we’re crossing an emotional line.
“I can handle more than you might think, but we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to talk about.”
Resting my head against the wall, I say, “Let’s not force the conversation. Let’s just talk. See where it goes. Now, tell me about you.”
“About me?”
“What do you look like? I’ve been dying all day, trying to imagine you, but I need something to go on.”
Her breath hitches for a second, but she quickly recovers. “I’ll tell you, but only if you promise to make your fantasiesreallygood. For me, not just you.”
“I didn’t say they were sexual fantasies, Firecracker.”
“Then you’re missing out.”
“Tell me.”
“Okay, uh, I’m tall-ish. About five-foot-eight. I’m kinda gangly, or at least that’s how I’ve always felt. I mean, I have boobs—that sounded dumb. Obviously, I have boobs.”
“Stop saying boobs.”
“Why?” she laughs.
“Because they’re all I can think about now, and I want to imagine all of you.”
“Okay, well, they’re very full B-cups. Now, should I give you a second to imagine them around your—”
“Firecracker,” I warn. “Don’t start what you don’t plan on finishing. I’m enjoying this, but we’re bridging on phone sex territory, and I still have no idea what you look like.”
“Fine, we’ll put a pin in the phone sex.” She laughs and all the blood in my body rushes south at the sexy, effervescent sound. “Anyway, I have really fair skin and burn easily.”
“Redhead?”
“Strawberry blonde. At the moment my hair is long with side-swept bangs. Oh, and I have lots of freckles everywhere. I used to hate them, but I love them now.”
“Freckles.”
“Like that?”
