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I stretch my body out, feeling every muscle adjust before throwing the covers off and bringing my feet to the floor.
What should I do today?
There is one place I know I need to stop by at some point, but the thunderous rumble erupting from my stomach lets me know that my first priority needs to be food.
And fast.
I pick up my phone and call Brian, hoping he might be home from school to get some breakfast and catch up. Maybe even see if he has some insight into what might be bothering Natalie. But after the fourth ring, it goes to his voicemail, and I hang up feeling slightly disappointed.
After putting on my clothes from the night before and leaving a note for Natalie on her nightstand, I make my way out into the hallway, down the giant staircase, and out the massive front door.
I find myself driving around town until a blue neon sign for a small old diner catches my eye. I park by the front door and go inside, noticing only a handful of customers. As I take a seat at the counter, a perky young waitress comes over.
“Well, hey there, handsome. What can I get for you?” she asks while flirtatiously playing with a piece of her dark hair. Her wanting eyes travel up and down my body.
She can’t be any more obvious that she wants me.
“Umm.” I grab a menu and quickly scan it over. “I’ll just have the Sunday special with a glass of orange juice. Thank you.”
The woman continues staring at me, and when it takes longer than normal for her eyes to blink, I realize she’s checked out. Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me.
I clear my throat. “You ok?”
“Oh yes. Of course. Sure thing. Sunday Special.” She shakes her head out of the fantasy she was just in, which, I would bet my life savings, was featuring me. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
The way she looks at me tells me she isn’t referring to anything offered on the menu.
“No, I think that would be it,” I respond casually, trying to give her the hint that I’m not interested.
“Ok then, well, if you change your mind, just holler for me. I’m Tina.” She points to her name tag, which resides right next to the cleavage spilling out of her tight shirt.
“Will do,” I say and look down at my phone, hoping she will walk away. I’m relieved when she does.
Soon enough, a plate stacked high with all the breakfast essentials is brought to me. The aroma of bacon fills my nose, and I shove my fork into the masterpiece. It isn’t long before I’ve wolfed down the eggs, pancakes, bacon, toast, and glass of orange juice. Now I feel ready to conquer whatever the day throws at me.
Or at least ready for the next daunting task on my agenda.
As I drag my fork over the empty plate, procrastinating leaving, a young couple, probably around my age, enters the diner. They are holding hands and sit a few barstools away from me. The girl keeps her hand on the guy’s thigh as they share one menu between the two of them. Every few seconds, he looks at the girl, and they both smile like they’re sharing a secret.
Maybe they just fucked in the parking lot.I laugh at this thought.If they did, good for them.
I want Natalie in that way.
So badly I do.
The girl’s body is one you only see walking down a Victoria’s Secret runway. Actually, due to the fact that Natalie has meat on her bones, it’s a lot better than what you would see on a runway.
A. Lot. Fucking. Better.
But besides her body, all the other things about her drive me wild. The way she laughs, the way she looks down at the ground when she’s nervous with me, the adorable pink color on her cheeks that reveals her emotions, the way she feels in my arms … the list is endless.
However, as much as I want Natalie in that way, it’s more important to me to take things slow with her.
I can be patient.
For her, I can wait.
But how long is the appropriate amount of time to wait?
