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EasyDude: I’m 6ft3, black hair, blue eyes, pretty ripped. Hope you don’t mind tattoos?
Holy shit. He sounds just like a dream come true. I’ve always had a thing for tats. I’d never get one myself because needles freak me out. But tats on guys are insanely attractive, and immediately, my cunt tightens a bit thinking about Trent’s ink.
HeartLove: not at all. I love tats. where do you live btw? Can I ask that?
My heart beats in my throat as I wait for him to reply. I can’t be Trent, can it? It can’t be him, it can’t be him!
EasyDude: florida
I sigh, relieved yet a little disappointed as well. Because it’s not my hunky next-door neighbor. This guy lives halfway across the country. But I suppose it takes the pressure off actually meeting and we can just flirt a little. No big deal.
EasyDude: now you ;) where do you live?
HeartLove: I’m in Iowa. I’m 5ft5, curly brunette, brown eyes, very curvy
EasyDude: very curvy? ;)
HeartLove: I’ll be honest – I’ve got double D’s, a big ass, wide hips and lots of soft rolls.
I hit “send” before I can change my mind, and squint my eyes shut until I feel the phone vibrate in my hand with a reply. And it takes forever! Certain I’ve turned him off, I throw my phone down on the bed and leap up, feeling like an idiot. Just as I’m heading out of my room to go down and make some pancakes for breakfast, I hear my phone buzz and I stop in my tracks. He’s answered.
EasyDude: you sound gorgeous
EasyDude: wish you didn’t live so far away
Holy shit! He thinks I’m “gorgeous”? That’s a word to describe Cindy Crawford and Sports Illustrated supermodels, not girl-next-door Janie Martin. But I find myself smiling at his compliment, even if it’s just based off my own, but very true, description of myself. But maybe he’s just being polite? Time to check.
HeartLove: why? what would happen otherwise?
It’s so much easier to flirt on-line than in real life. Still, I blush because I’m way out of my comfort zone. But it feels nice, I have to admit.
EasyDude: I’d ask you out, of course
HeartLove: maybe I’d say yes
EasyDude: I hope you would
HeartLove: what would we do?
EasyDude: we’d start by getting to know each other a little
EasyDude: I’d ask you questions about yourself
HeartLove: Like what?
EasyDude: Like…
EasyDude: what would you do if you had a million bucks? :)
I giggle a little. A million bucks? I’d probably fly to Aruba and book a week-long vacation on the beach. It’d be even nicer if I had someone to go with. I find myself suddenly wishing EasyDude didn’t live in Florida because if he’s from the Panhandle State, he’s gotta love warm weather, right? I’m just about to answer when Ying actually does text me, totally bringing me out of the moment. She wants to arrange our study session, as expected. I answer her with flying fingers, but by the time we’ve texted back and forth a few times, ten minutes have passed. Hope EasyDude’s still there.
HeartLove: If I had a million bucks, I’d like to travel the world for a bit. How about you?
But this time, he doesn’t answer. One minute ticks by, then another, and then another. With a sigh, I put my phone back down on the bed, pulling my bathrobe tighter around me as I stand up. Oh well. Maybe he’ll answer later. I resolve to start spending my day a little more sensibly: making pancakes for breakfast, and then meeting up with Ying for our study session. That’s good girl Janie getting back in the groove.
So with another sigh, my limbs start mobilizing. But as I leave the room, a roar sounds outside the window. Oh right. It’s Trent’s lawn mower being switched back on, and in the back of my mind I wonder why he took a break? Was it a pit stop? Or something more fun?
Oh well, sneaking one last peek at him from my window, I resolve to start my day. Because between EasyDude and my handsome neighbor, I’ve got my hands full … even if both are just make-believe.
5
Trent
My hands grip the lawn mower tighter as I push it effortlessly along the grass, enjoying the vibrations it sends up thru my arms. This whole gardening thing started out as just something to do after jail, but I’ve quickly grown to like it. Very much, in fact. Working with my hands, being outdoors all day, completing repetitive jobs, and not having to speak to anyone, has been the perfect way to keep my mind of things. This small town in Iowa is the perfect place to start over. Because everyone thinks they know the full story, and everyone is wrong, except for her.
I’ll call her Mary to make things easy. Mary told me she was eighteen, and when I’d teased her by wanting to see her ID, she’d whipped it out in a flash. How could I have known it was a fake ID? It’s not like I’m an expert at these things.
