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“Is this good enough?” I asked softly. He turned his head and looked at me, letting out a low whistle.
“Damn, girl,” he murmured, his eyes scanning up and down my body. “Turn around.” I slowly turned around for him to see, my whole body feeling warm under his gaze. “It’s perfect.”
“Good,” I nearly whispered and headed to the kitchen.
“Oh, and Ashton?” he called out. I paused, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Yeah?” I managed to get out.
“Just heat up the leftovers from last night. It’s later than I realized and I have to work in the morning.”
“Okay then,” I responded. I retrieved the leftovers, tossing them into the microwave for a few minutes while I grabbed a couple of plates. After plating the food, I joined him in the living room and sat on the other end of the couch. I felt his eyes on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.
“You look amazing, just in case I didn’t say that earlier,” he said.
“Thanks.”
“I actually didn’t think you’d do it,” he admitted with a chuckle.
I shrugged “Well, I’m a good sport and a bet is a bet.”
“Are you taking any calls tonight?”
“Nah, my line is off. It would be pretty rude to get a call while we’re hanging out, don’t you think?”
“Not really.”
I paused in my eating and looked at him. “You wouldn’t be bothered by the fact that I’m having phone sex with another man or woman—”
“Wait, women call you?” he asked, his mouth agape. I laughed at his shocked expression and nodded.
“Lesbians and bisexual women do exist, sir. I haven’t gotten one of those calls yet though,” I said.
“Ah gotcha,” he said. Most of dinner was quiet, the only noise coming from the TV as the sports broadcasters talked about highlights from an earlier game. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”
“ I did,” I admitted. “It’s been a while since I’ve had fun. You know, ever since the break up and everything.”
“Yeah, same,” he said, putting his empty plate on the coffee table.
“I’ll take that to the kitchen,” I offered, grabbing it and quickly standing before he could object. When I reached the kitchen, I placed the dishes in the dishwasher with a sigh. As the time limit for our original bet wound down, I found myself a bit nervous about actually having sex with him.
I turned in the direction of the living room and watched him for a few moments. He’d turned to a scary movie and seemed to already be engrossed in it. “Just play it cool,” I whispered to myself before walking back over to join him.
I sat on the opposite end of the couch and crossed my bare legs, trying to focus on the TV. “What is this?” I asked, trying to be discreet about wiping my sweaty palms on the couch.
“The Conjuring or something.” He looked at me. “Why are you all the way over there?”
“Where else would I be?” I asked, cringing at the nervousness in my voice.
“I don’t know. You could be…closer,” he offered, his tone low.
I glanced at the digital clock on the cable box. 11:51 p.m. Only nine minutes left.
“It’s not a big deal,” I said with a nervous giggle.
“Then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I moved closer to you,” he murmured. I cleared my throat and shifted in my spot a bit.
“I guess it doesn’t really matter since you moved over here before I could object.”
