Elias coughs, shifting in his seat. He coughs again. “Two,” he tries, but his voice sounds strangled, and he has to clear his throat another time. “Two, what happened to finding out if he’s a serial killer or not? Three, I thought we were going to take this week to practice?”
I think about it for a second. “These are all valid points,” I tell him. “So what should I say?”
“Tell him week after next,” Elias says. “Because you won’t be here next weekend. And always pick a weekday for a first date.”
“Why?”
“Less pressure,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee. I watch as the sunlight catches in his light brown curls, making him look like an adult cherub. “On weekdays, everyone has work the next day, so the night can’t really last too long.”
“But what if I want the night to last long?” I ask, waggling my eyebrows suggestively.
“Don’t do that,” he tells me, unaffected. He continues. “Then you can do that over the weekend. On the second date. And by then, you’ll hopefully have a better idea of whether or not he’s a serial killer.”
I tap my fingers on the table, contemplating. “Okay.” I start typing.This week is tough, and I’m out of town next weekend. How about the week after that? Maybe Monday?I turn the phone to show it to Elias. “Does this look good?”
He nods, and I hit send.
I take another sip of my latte. “So how about you, woman-eater? How’s the dating life going for you?”
He raises a thick eyebrow. “I mean, you’re around the apartment most weekend mornings, aren’t you?”
I cringe. “I see the Blonde Parade out of your bedroom most Sunday mornings, yes. But never the same person twice.”
“Then there you go. That’s how it’s going.” He gives me a cocky grin, sans Dimple. Something about it seems vacant.
“It seems a little lonely,” I tell him gently, and the grin freezes on his face.
“How does it sound lonely?” he scoffs.
“Not physically lonely, I guess. More like, emotionally lonely. I feel like it could be lacking a sort of connection, or intimacy, maybe. Especially when it’s a consistent experience.” I look down at my half eaten pancakes, huffing a laugh without humor. “Not like I should be talking. I’m both physically and emotionally lonely.”
My last relationship was with Ethan, almost two years ago. He was a friend of my friend Andrea’s, because it’s not like I can get my shit together enough to just meet someone on a random night out at a bar in the East Village. We had to be introduced. We stayed together for about a year until it sort of… petered out. We lost the spark. I just wasn’tinterestedanymore, and I think he felt the same, and we split amicably.
The sex was fine, vanilla and scheduled, if anything. It was fine, all right, like how vanilla ice cream is all right. There’s sugar and cream and maybe an orgasm, but nothing sensational. He made sure I got off… most of the time. He wasn’t really a ‘follow instructions’ kind of guy, or maybe I was just poor at standing up for myself and communicating. But it was never particularly memorable. It’s not like we would ever devour one another other, or that I wouldcravehim, or anything. It’s not like I would masturbate thinking about him. Not like…
“This is the most depressing breakfast of my life,” Elias says, and my eyes snap up to meet his green ones. They’re a dull color, flat, skewing bronze.
My phone dings.
I have a late meeting Monday, but how about that Wednesday?
I text back immediately.
Sounds good.
I go to put my phone down before it dings again.
Can I keep texting you until then?
I smile, my body filling with warmth.
Yes.
“What’s he saying?” Elias asks.
“We’re going to meet the Wednesday after we get back from New Orleans, but he asked if he could keep texting me until then. I said yes.” I’m ecstatic, bouncing in my chair, but Elias is still looking muted. “Thanks for helping me, Elias.” I squeeze his arm. “Breakfast is on me. And lunch later, too, if you want. Wanna do something in the meantime? Walk through Prospect Park? The zoo? Botanical Garden? Brooklyn Museum? Wanna text Leo?”
A tiny smile cracks out of his carved face. “I would really love a nap in the grass in the park.”
