Before we go any further, I’m trans. Is that a problem?
The wait stretched out agonizingly as I stared at those three little dots moving.
“Who’re you texting?” Rory all but hovered over my shoulder.
I lifted my middle finger, not bothering to look at him.
I’ve never been with a woman before. Is that a problem?
My heart thudded a little harder. Damnit, I fucking liked her snarky response. Even though she was a baby bi, she’d had the stones to break up with her boyfriend and message me. The least I could do was try.
See you Thursday, then ;)
I tucked my phone back into my pocket, mostly to keep Rory’s prying eyes away.
“Okay, you can’t ignore me for five whole minutes and then not explain what that was about. I’m dying,” Rory said. “Plus, you’re smiling. Is the world ending? Did they announce tickets for another showing of Dracula at the ballet?”
I rolled my eyes, even though my grin didn’t abate. Rory was a nosy little shit, but goddamn, he knew me. “Nah, hottie from the other week dumped her shitty boyfriend. I’d slipped her my number, so we’re going on a date.”
Rory’s eyes widened. “No shit. Is that the chick who was saddled with No Regrets guy?”
“Mmhmmm.” My cheeks hurt from smiling. Maybe I should exercise those muscles more often.
“Damn, girl. You did bag a hottie.”
“She’s a baby bi, though.” I groaned. “Am I in trouble?”
Rory shrugged. “Only if you consider getting laid being in trouble.”
He had a valid point. I needed to adjust my expectations. Just because Becky was the hottest thing I’d seen walk into our shop and our chemistry had been fire didn’t mean we’d last beyond a night. We were meeting up, and we’d have fun. If we ended up going for more, bully for me, but I could manage my expectations.
Kind of.
“Where are you guys going on your date?” Rory asked.
I chewed on my lower lip. An idea sprung to mind. “Somewhere weird, clearly.”
Either she’d love it, or she’d hate it, but if she loved it, I just might have to marry her.
***
Thursday night had arrived. Time for my date with Hot Becky from the Tattoo Shop, which was what I’d programmed her into my phone as.
I strolled down Main Street in Phoenixville. I loved the town where I’d bought my house years back. The Colonial’s familiar marquis lit up the way. I’d seen so many features at the old theater, and tonight they were playingThirteen Ghosts. Which was exactly my plan for our date.
I had no idea where Becky lived, even though we’d texted a little since making our initial plans. Even her texts contained the sharp sense of humor I’d appreciated when we first met. Damn, my insides fluttered. Was I building this up before our date even happened? Maybe a little, but attraction like that didn’t hit me every day.
Hopefully, she’d show up.
As much as I wished I could be cavalier like Rory, I was a secret romantic. I wanted the girl, the swoony feeling, the safety of knowing this was more than a flash in the pan. Not what anyone expected when I gave off tattooed goth girl vibes.
Except I’d spent my high school in the wrong body, and since my early twenties, I’d tried to catch up on everything I’d missed. Twenty-eight, and I finally felt settled in my body, in my self.
I approached the Colonial and spotted a flash of blonde hair.
The second Becky came into view, I all but swallowed my tongue.
Holy fuck, this woman.
