“Sit.” I pointed towards the couch, and he mocked a dog bark. That’s right, who’s my bitch? Instead of going to the couch, he went over to look at the pictures of my family on the wall.
Quickly, I changed into a pair of shorts, a cute blouse, and some ankle boots. I retouched my makeup with the mirror over my dresser, and pinned half of my hair up to give it a slightly tussled look. One last spritz of body glitter spray, and I was good to go. Feeling like one hot mama, I strutted out into the living room, ready to get this date rolling.
“Am I allowed to touch you at all?” Joel’s voice was different than just before. Lower. Sexier. Can he touch me? I felt nervous about that. We’d been battling back and forth for two months now, and I didn’t know what would happen if he touched me. Honesty. I would be honest with him about where I was at when it came to him. It was the only way we could move forward to whatever was happening.
I walked over to him and looked at the pictures on the wall. My favorite picture was one of me right after I had Jenson. He was so tiny, and I loved him something fierce. My hair was a mess, and I was wearing a shirt that had a wet mark on my breast from leaking milk. But the look in my eyes and his, as he looked up at me with his little fingers stretched up to touch my face, still made my heart swell.
“I was so young when I had him. Seventeen. He wasn’t planned, but I loved him desperately.” I smiled at the picture and turned to face Joel, who was watching me very intensely.
“His father was an aspiring actor. He left us for the chance to live the Hollywood life. We did fine. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But he put on a good act, and I fell for it.” My hand reached up to touch Joel’s bearded face, and even though I’d done it hundreds of times before, this was real. I was under no influence of hormones, or my job. I was touching him because I wanted to.
“I’m nervous about letting this move with you. Be patient with me?” I asked, and he leaned into my hand. The gesture was sweet, and it made those butterflies flap away in my tummy. He didn’t say anything, which for him was a first, but when he nodded that he understood, I felt like a weight had been lifted.
“Thank you. I can see there’s more to you than what I assumed; I want to know more if you’ll let me.” He took a step back, away from my hand, making me look at him with a little confusion in my expression. Was he not okay with taking things slow?
“'Take Your Time,’ by Sam Hunt.” He gave me a smile, and I found myself wanting to hug him in thanks. This theme song thing was pretty cool, and kind of romantic, when used properly. I did like that song, and knew the lyrics. So I knew he just wanted to spend time with me, and was giving me what I wanted.
“Doesn’t change that I wanna kiss the shit out of you right now. But I’ll keep the suspense up and wait until the end of our date. Otherwise you won’t wanna keep your lips off me.” And there’s that mouth of his!
