“Dinner and lunch. Then we’re chilling at mine.”
Yippee!
I got to see his place!
That said…
“I’m not sure I’m prepared for our first, out-in-public, official date,” I declared. “I’d want to put on a different outfit.”
Though, what I would wear, I had no clue.
However, it would be something other than the mid-rise baggy jeans I had on with a simple, slim-fit white tee with a small pink and yellow gerbera daisy on the chest and white with pink stripe Adidas Samba sneaks.
However, I could not deny what I had on went well with his super-casual black tee that shared in white letters that Monument, Colorado was established in 1879, uber-faded jeans (particularly at the crotch, mmm) and beat-up, black-swoop Nike Killshots.
“We’re not dating. We’re together.”
At this declaration, in slow motion, I turned my head to Gabe.
“Sorry?” I asked.
“This isn’t a date. This is a man taking his woman to dunch.”
Wait.
What?
“When did I become your woman?”
“Did you sleep beside me last night?”
“Well…”
“And the night before?”
“I was?—”
“And the night before that?”
Jeez.
“That isn’t?—”
He changed subjects. “Whose house are you breaking into?”
Uh-oh.
It was half joke, half not when I asked, “Can I plead the fifth?”
“Cupcake, you asked me if I knew how to pick a lock.”
“Okay, do you?”
“Of course. Though, I’ll point out, no matter how good your intentions are, there is no way to break and enter where it isn’t a felony.”
And he’d know, with a master’s in criminal justice and all the rest.
Eek!
