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I climb out. “Hey, I’m not looking for sex.” My cock does a little sigh in my pants, jumping a little to remind me he’s not in for that agreement.
Do I want this woman? Yes.
Will I wait for this woman? Yes.
Is this woman worth the wait? I believe she is.
I know she is.
I remember thinking I should take a chance with her back in high school, but back then I had the bro squad at my back. They provided a hierarchy of douchedom. I was king douche and I’m not afraid to say it. But she stood up to the douchery and she told me my place. It was refreshing from the girls who wanted me to be the knight in shining armor. They were looking for a Mrs. title, not for love. And I’ll admit I took what I needed and I’m not proud of that fact. It’s one of the reasons I basically ignored women in college. I didn’t want to get roped into being something I wasn’t.
I’m not a hero. I’m not someone’s savior. And I’m not fucking perfect.
She rolls her eyes. “Right. Doesn’t matter, I wouldn’t give it up on the first date anyway.”
“Okay. Glad we have that figured out and expectations are set. So where do you want to go on our first date?”
Her mouth opens then shuts and I can see the confusion in her eyes. She led herself into this trap.
She smirks. “Jacobi’s.”
Ouch.
I make decent money, but Jacobi’s is cha-ching. But I don’t react. I straighten my back.
“Sip Happens Bar.” I decide to counter on the low-end and maybe we’ll meet somewhere in the middle.
A smirk threatens to perk her big and pouty lips. “Modern Love.”
Vegan? Oh, hell nah.
“Jacobi’s it is,” I concede. She’s touched my Achilles heel.
Delia laughs and the sound is my favorite song. “I’m kidding. Sip Happens is just fine. Just wanted to see how invested you really were.”
I step closer to her and slip my hands onto her hips. A shiver runs her body. I lower my head to her ear just like last night. “I’m in for the long haul, sweetheart.”
Her body stiffens and I lean back.
“You okay?” I ask watching her pupils widen and she rolls her lips in.
She was loosening up and now I’m wondering if I read her wrong.
Her eyes stay fixed on something behind us. She pushes back and I feel her fear in her quickly rising chest.
“Delia, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
She shakes her head and I turn to see who or what her eyes are tracking.
Mountain lion?
Bear?
Godzilla?
I spin to see a man with his arms crossed on top of his Camaro just watching us.
“That took no time,” he yells out. “You are a dirty—”
