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I immediately want to hide as I remember what I currently look like.
He looks me up and down for a moment before tipping his head back and laughing.
"Really?" he says.
His laugh is deep and genuine, warming me from the inside out. It rumbles through his chest like he didn't expect it or hadn't done it for a very long time.
He recovers, and then holds out his arm gallantly. I look at him shocked. "You still want to go out?" I ask.
"Of course," he says. "Nothing has changed from when I first asked you."
I take his arm, mentally planning how I can make the date even worse.
He takes me to a seafood restaurant, and I complain loudly to everyone in the vicinity that I hate seafood. Then, when he orders a nice wine, I drink directly from the bottle.
"I backwashed," I tell him with a smirk.
I smack my food, slurp my soup, burp loudly. Basically, anything that I've been taught is impolite in any company, let alone a date with a hot man.
No matter the outrageousness of my behavior, he stays calm and collected, looking like everything I'm doing is completely normal. He chats pleasantly with me even though I say nothing in return. He ignores the tables around us that are watching me blatantly in shock. He eats his food hungrily pretending like I'm not using my hands to eat my seafood linguine dish.
After two hours of throwing out everything I can think of to push him away, dinner is finally over. We make our way outside, and before I can call a cab to go home, Will suggests a walk by the pier.
"You've got to be kidding me," I say exhaustedly. I'm completely out of any further ideas for how to be disgusting.
"You don't like the ocean?" he asks with a smirk.
He knows exactly what I'm thinking, and it makes me begin to wonder what his motive is. If he thinks that I'm the ultimate challenge, and this is all to get me in bed before he tosses me to the curb, he's got another thing coming. It makes me mad just thinking about it, and my plan immediately flip flops from wanting to push him away, to wanting to attract him. Maybe he deserves for someone to break his heart the way that he has broken so many others'.
"I'll be right back," I tell him, running back into the restaurant. I head to the bathroom, ignoring all the patrons who are looking at me in disgust from my show at dinner.
In the bathroom, I take a comb out of my purse, and I get to work on the rat's nest that I managed to create. When it's smooth, or at least as smooth as I can achieve with a comb and some water, I put a little powder and some lipstick on my face. I then rinse my mouth out, hoping that the onion smell has faded a little bit after dinner.
Walking back out, I manage to elicit that same laugh out of him as before. It's so attractive that it elicits stares from everyone in the vicinity.
"Shall we?" he asks, holding out his arm for me to take. I grab onto it, and we set off.
It's a beautiful night. San Francisco is colder than I had expected it to be before I got here, but tonight it's almost balmy compared to normal. He tells me about life in the Navy, how he's excited at the prospect of fighting for the country. He's naive about the realities of war, but I of course can't tell him how I know that. I can't tell him about the war-torn countries I've been tossed into. The atrocities that I've seen human beings commit against each other. I feel a shiver of dread at the thought of Will becoming a casualty of this war.
"Do you know when you'll be deployed?" I ask suddenly, cutting off a story he was telling about one of his commanders.
"There are rumors that it will be soon," he says, fear and excitement conflicting in his voice. I nod, and we continue to walk along the shore, now in silence.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" I whisper as we watch the waves roll in.
"Yes. She's always felt like home," he responds, the pain slipping back into his voice.
"Where's home?" I ask.
"The Oregon Coast," he says. "Not far from here. My pops ran a small fishing business, so I grew up on the ocean. It feels like home."
He looks so dashing and sophisticated standing next to me that I can't help but smile at the thought of him working a fishing boat.
"What?" he says with a laugh, his eyes getting stuck briefly on my laughing mouth before he yanks his gaze away. "I'll have you know I was an integral part of Pop's fishing business."
"I'm sure," I say in jest. He surprises me by scooping up some water and splashing me with it. I sputter from the shock of the icy water drenching my top.
I'm about to retaliate when I see that he's frozen, trying desperately to keep his gaze away from me. Puzzled, I look down and notice that the front of my white top is almost completely see-through from getting soaked. The silk of my bra is also soaked through...you can basically see everything.
