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“Youarein real clothes.”
“These arenotreal clothes.”
“They look pretty real to me.” His impish grin returns in full force just the way I like it. “Andthey felt pretty real to my bank account when I got the receipt that was just shy of a good steak dinner.”
“Hey, I didn’t tell you to break the bank to buy me something I’m never gonna wear again.”
“Never?!” Chuckles spring loose during his creeping closer. “Do you meanunlikelyto wear again?”
“I mean once I get out of this shit, I’m not putting it back on.”
His teeth sink into his bottom lip as if trying to keep a groan at bay.
Seriously?
Does he want to see me topless?
Wait, is itmytits he wants to see or justsomeone’s? After all, I did ruin his chance at getting laid last night.
“Sorry about screwing up your date,” I meekly apologize. “I-”
“Better not eventhinkabout apologizin’ for that shit again,” Slater sweetly scolds, hands lifting to cup my face. “There isno onein this world that matters more to me than you, Angel Cake.” His thumbs softly stroke the skin underneath them. “You should know that by now.”
“Still…I didn’t mean to ruin your night or…morningmore likely.”
“You didn’t.” The softness of his words blankets me as his hands fall back to his side. “I did that all on my own.”
Curiosity gets the better of my mouth prompting me to investigate, “How? How is that possible? You’re likethe perfectcatch!”
Unfamiliar redness suddenly appears in his cheeks. “Is that right?”
“To any woman that doesn’t snipe for the same team…uhh…yeah.” More words come rushing out of my mouth without waiting to be examined or evaluated or analyzed first. “You’re sweet. And kind. And charming. And funny. And built like The Commodores wrote that song aboutyoubut then had to change it last minute to be about a woman in order for it to sell a zillion records.”
“And here I thought your music knowledge failed to expand past your inner emo girl shit.”
Tossing him a teasing glare naturally occurs. “Is that how you fucked up? You let your ‘TheDevil Went Down to Georgia’ side come out too soon on the first date?”
“Hey,” he warmly chuckles, “I am as the good Lord made me.”
“Fiddle obsessed and sexy in a pair of Levi’s?”
Slater momentarily balks at my open flirting while I silently thank my “Sk8er Boi” stars for my vibrating device giving me a reason to look elsewhere.
Wow.
I might’ve hit my head harder than I thought.
I know nothing showed up as unusual, but something isclearlymalfunctioning in there.
How else can I explain the shit I just said out loud?
One simple swipe across the screen reveals to me another surprise, although unlike my comment, this one I probably could’ve seen coming had I given the situation a little more thought.
Harv: I hope you know I’m thinking about you Arley.
And he’s probably the one Ishouldbe thinking about.
Not the man standing across from me in his good date jeans.
