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His narrowed eyed stare burns through me. “You’re acting like I broke up with you.”
“No, I know. I’m sorry.” The apology feels weird. I’m not used to having someone I care about stick around. “I know this is my fault.”
“But to answer your question… no. Exclusivity, yes. But I don’t need a title. I just need to feel like I’m not walking on eggshells with you. I can’t be constantly afraid of freaking you out because I care about you.”
“I can help with that,” I say more confidently than anything else in this conversation. “No more freaking out. And I won’t even let my vibrator touch me, so you don’t have to worry about the exclusive thing.” I hold my eyes to his so he knows I’m serious.
“Okay.” The way he draws out the word makes me think he’s still hesitant.
“I know words aren’t enough, Troy. Just let me figure out how to prove them, okay?” I reach for him and he allows it, taking my hand in his. I can’t help my sigh of relief. “I missed you,” I say. The admission lifts a weight from my chest.
“I missed you more.” He swipes his thumb softly across the back of my hand before releasing me. “Stay for a bit? Are you hungry?”
The bar is chaotic with the holiday crowd, but I sit at the corner trying to come up with a way to show Troy I want this next step. I’m not good at sentimental gestures, so I’m wracking my brain for something fun. By that I mean I’m googling date ideas–something I never thought I’d be doing–but adding extra search words like “unique” and “spontaneous.” It’s not until I add the key words “possibly illegal” that I come across a blog that gives me exactly what I’m looking for. This is perfect.
I wait until Troy catches my gaze from the other side of the bar. As soon as he does, he walks over to me. “Any chance you have a day off this weekend?”
“I usually have Tuesdays and Wednesdays off, but I can probably make something happen. What are you thinking?”
“Lauren!” She’s pouring a beer from the tap directly in front of me.
“What’s up?”
“Remember like an hour ago when you told me to ask if I need anything else?”
She laughs. “Am I going to regret that already?”
“Can you cover one of Troy’s shifts this weekend, if you don’t work? He’ll owe you.”
“Hey!” Troy interjects, but he doesn’t seem bothered.
“Sure, I actually asked for Saturday off for something I’m not doing anymore.”
“Thanks! I owe you one too!”
“I just want to hear about whatever you’re planning.” She gives a knowing look as she walks off with the beer, and Troy looks between us like he isn’t quite sure what just happened.
“Okay. I have a date to plan! Check please!”
“Saturday is two days from now. How much time do you need?” He’s teasing me, but there’s curiosity in his tone.
“Who the hell knows. I’ve never even been on a date before.” I shrug. “So, better safe than sorry.”
He slides my check in front me, minus my appetizer and a couple of beers. I wait until he leaves to help another customer before I pull out enough cash for my bill, an extra twenty and my pen. Before I leave, I scribble on the bottom of my receipt.
Be ready at two. Wear a suit. Be prepared for a commitment.
Troy:To be clear, I’m assuming you don’t mean a swimsuit. Like a suit I’d wear to a wedding.
Me:Exactly like that.
Troy:See you on Saturday.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
TROY
Thissuithasn’tbeenworn since the last event my fraternity had before I graduated. It fits a little tighter now, but in all the right places. My hard work lately is paying off. Since I got to California, I picked up an exercise routine similar to the one I had when I played football in high school. My only consistent workout in college was keg stands.
