I’m not ready to tackle that.
Audrey
That’s fair.
I’m proud of you for telling me.
Me
You asked me point-blank.
Audrey
You could have lied. Or gaslit me. But you were honest. That takes courage, Jamie.
Thanks for all the ice cream goodies. I’m going to make myself a huge sundae and watch Home Alone.
Me
A woman after my own heart.
I have a date tonight,and it’s safe to say I was a little unhinged at work the entire day because of it. I’m fairly certain Chelsea was ready to muzzle me more than once. I couldn’t stop talking about Jamie, or asking her questions about dating etiquette.
I’ve dated before. I’ve even had sex … although not that much. I’ve never felt comfortable with giving it up to someone I barely knew, so one night stands were off the table. And a lot of guys expect it after a certain number of dates. Jamie is an NFL superstar. I’m sure he’s had countless one night stands. He’s probably slept with dozens and dozens of women. Maybe triple digits. Gross. God, I really hope he hasn’t slept withthatmany women, but I’m not asking for a number.
That thought occurred to me at lunch today, and I had a full panic attack. I began thinking back to the last time I had sex, and I can’t remember. I actually cannot remember the last time I slept with a man. That kiss with Jamie was the first bit of action I’ve had in well over a year, but I know it’s been longer than that since I had sex.
The entirety of my sexual history fits on one hand, and the thought of doing anything with Jamie gave me one hell of a reality check. What if he expects a confident, sexual woman in the bedroom? A take-charge partner? Someone who has no problem telling her partner exactly what she wants and needs?
That is not me.
I can barely tell the Starbucks barista what kind of milk I want in my latte.
I’d almost talked myself into canceling the dinner tonight when I received a package at work. I was stunned to find oversized guinea pig slippers, and a coffee mug that says ‘world’s best guinea pig mom’ on it. He attached a simple handwritten note that said:
Looking forward to our dinner and a movie date. I’ll wear my slippers too.
-J
Now I simply have to go through with the date, if only for the purpose of seeing his slippers.
At six o’clock on the dot, my doorbell rings, and I have the sudden urge to puke, just like he did weeks ago. I open the door to find him grinning widely, a far cry from how he looked that first time when he barely made it to the bathroom.
I let out a loud burst of laughter when I see that his slippers are the cat version of mine. “Do they match your cats?”
“Who are you kidding? They won’t let me put theirs on them,” he says with a wink. “I wish I was kidding. But yes, my slippers match them. I have two tuxedo cats.”
“Maverick and Goose, right?” I ask as I motion for him to come inside. Flash yips in greeting, and the pigs down the hall let out a crescendo of squeaks.
“Yeah. They’re quite the pair. I brought a bag of food for the pigs, too.”
My eyes pop to his in shock. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He shrugs. “I brought dinner for everyone. Even Flash.”
Good God. I might cry. “What did you bring for Flash?”
“Well,” Jamie says as he walks into the kitchen, depositing a bag and a cooler onto the counter, “I wasn’t fully sure what her diet allowed, so I did some research.”
