Wyatt: You should know from experience. Ladies always comefirst.
He followed that with a wet emoji and a sunglasses smiley face. I had to slide my foot out from under my ass so I could cross my legs at the sensation that one line of text and the innuendo of those emojis shot straight to my core.
Wyatt: But I’d like to take you to dinnerfirst.
Me: Tonight?
Brilliant, Piper. Of course he meanttonight.
Before I could edit my text, he replied.
Wyatt: I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes. Text me youraddress.
It was one thing to share my number. Giving him my address was a whole different leap of faith.
Those butterflies doing an excited cha-cha in your belly are telling you something, I admonished myself.Listen tothem.
I texted him my address and slammed a lid on my nerves. Thirty minutes was the bare minimum I needed for a quick shower and change of clothes. Glancing around at the tornado-like state of my apartment, I panicked.
Me: Make that fortyminutes.
Wyatt: You’re gorgeous exactly the way youare.
Me: Fortyminutes.
He sent me the eye roll emoji and I laughed. Then I tossed my phone on the bar separating the kitchen from the living room and went to work tidying my place, beginning with gathering up my ski gear and shoving it into the sliver of a closet beside the front door. The number of coffee cups I’d managed to leave on the end tables, coffee table, and the kitchen counter shocked me. Guess I hadn’t been paying attention as I wrote my paper and thought about Wyatt over the past couple of days. They went into my mini dishwasher along with a plate I retrieved from the coffee table and a cereal bowl I’d left in the sink.
Though I’d made my bed, it still bore the signs of my response to my sister’s text. I straightened the comforter and rearranged the decorative pillows over the pillows I slept on. As I worked over my queen bed, I wondered if it would be big enough for Wyatt. The guy took up so much space.
Maybe we’d end up back at his place in his king-size bed.
Not so fast, girlfriend. He’d been wanting a real date for a long time. It wasn’t a given our first real date would end up in anyone’s bed—or the back seat of his truck. My pussy pinched in protest at the thought, and I shook my head at my wayward thoughts.
A few minutes later my dirty clothes were out of sight in the hamper beside the closet, my shoes were stowed on the closet floor, and a fresh outfit waited on the bed for after my shower. Wrapping my hair in a towel, I stepped beneath the hot spray to soap off my strenuous afternoon on my skis and shave my legs in case dinner was the appetizer for Wyatt’s plans. Afterward, I slathered on my favorite citrus-and-cinnamon-scented lotion and fluffed out my hair. I pulled my favorite pair of tight jeans over a pair of lacy red bikini panties and slipped a warm, body-hugging sweater that did amazing things for my curves over a matching red lace bra.
I had plans for the evening too.
Returning to the bathroom, I flicked a coat of mascara over my lashes, dabbed a rosy stain over my lips, and finished it with a lick of gloss. Right as I dropped my makeup back in the drawer, I heard a knock at the door.
Checking the time on my phone as I snagged it off the counter on the way by, I grinned.
Forty minutes on the dot.
“Hello, Wyatt.” I opened the door enough to let him in and closed it fast behind him. Even with a wide awning over the door, the snow wanted to follow him inside.
A slow, sexy smile tipped up the corner of his mouth. “Hello, Piper.”
I couldn’t help but return his smile, and for a long minute, we stood in my living room smiling at each other like a pair of goofs.
Simultaneously, we broke the silence.
“It’s good to see you.”
“Ready to go?”
We laughed together. It should have been awkward, but instead it felt more like a homecoming than a first date.
“Let me slide on some boots and grab my jacket.”
