Did you eat goat?
I reply immediately:Absolutely not.
Another laughing emoji.Fair. It was okay. Just had to get over it mentally.
I’m not an adventurous eater for an Asian. Kind of embarrassing. I like ordering kung pao chicken.I smile as I type this, knowing that somewhere the Asian foodie gods are disowning me.
Sometimes kpc is the only thing that will hit the spot.
100%
My toothpaste drips down my chin. I wipe it off and look at myself in the mirror. It’s ten p.m. and I’m texting—no, not even texting,DM-ing—a twenty-eight-year-old. The weekend before I turn forty years old.
But I’ve spent a decade looking for Daniel. The past year with a private investigator. I’m not only feeling restless…but reckless, too.
Oh, hell.
What are you up to right now?My hands are clammy after I type it.
He takes a second…and then,Talking to you.
Shortly after, I send him my address and the lazy night routine takes a sharp U-turn. I dry brush my body vigorously before hopping in the shower and slathering myself with my most decadent and moisturizing bodywash. I want to smell like the most delicious thing this guy has ever had the pleasure of smelling. As I wash my hair with shampoo that costs more than wine, I realize I’m smiling.Wow, ever get laid much, Cassia?
But this birthday has just been soheavy. And everything about Ellis and this spontaneous hookup feelslight. I hadn’t realized I needed this until now. I take my razor and shave carefully under my arms. A routine that has gotten rusty, I admit. I know that I’m not supposed to care about body hair in this day and age, but I grew up in the nineties, the toxicity runsdeep. And while I’m comfortable with how I look—I am still about to be naked in front of a guy twelve years younger than me.
“Stop saying twelve years,” I say out loud to no one.
Because he’s coming over, and there’s no turning back now.
—
When I open the door, the first thing Ellis notices is Betty.
“Whoa. A bird.”
She’s on my shoulder, to be fair. “Say hi, Betty.”
Ellis waits expectantly but she just stares at him. I laugh. “Sorry, she would never in a million years say hi to you. But, hi.”
His eyes are immediately on mine. “Hi.” His lashes are stupidlylong and they lower slightly as he sweeps his gaze over me, drinking me in, like he did the other day at the office. My bare legs suddenly feel downright indecent, and I let out a nervous giggle. Like this is the first time I’ve ever invited a man over after bedtime.
I think about when I last did that and can’t remember. “Come in.”
He takes off his sneakers and while he’s looking down, I get a good look at him. He’s wearing a gray sweatshirt and slate-blue pants. His socks are orange. His hair is a little wet—like maybe he took a shower before he got here, too. When he straightens up, it’s confirmed. He smells like soap.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask, already headed to the kitchen. Portishead is playing, sexily and obviously.
Betty swoops away and Ellis keeps his eyes on her when he says, “One, you having a free-range bird is awesome. And two, sure.”
“What would you like?” I open the fridge, taking out a chilled bottle of pét-nat for myself. “I have wine, but I could also make you a martini or something with whiskey?”
He leans forward on the counter, his elbows sliding on the butcher-block countertop, watching me as I pull out a glass. “I’ll have what she’s having.”
I feel his eyes on me every second I pour the wine in delicate tumblers and slide his across the countertop. “Have you even watchedWhen Harry Met Sally?”
He clinks his glass against mine before answering. “Once.”
“Mm,” I say before taking a sip of the effervescent liquid. “I’m just grateful you know what I’m talking about.”
