I give him a nod and head into the kitchen—two steps away—and open the fridge. My apartmentissmall, the living room, foyer, and kitchen all kind of one room. Other than a small stacked laundry closet, it’s just the bathroom and a bedroom that barely fits my queen bed. A real estate agent might call it quaint. Or cozy.
“Would you like water or…sparkling water? Shoot,” I huff as I look at the contents here. “I thought I had more, sorry.”
“That’s okay, I’m done drinking for the night, so water is great,” he responds.
I fill two glasses and set them on the bar, then rest on the counter across from the two barstools I have there.
Matt sits on one facing me and reaches up to pull his hat off before flipping it backward and putting it back on. He leans forward on his elbows and rests his chin on his hands, looking so striking up close like this I feel like I have to stave off a physical reaction. The wordswoonfloats through my mind.
I take advantage of my first unhindered view of Matt and commit this sight to memory.
His dark hair is trimmed short on the sides and looks longer up top where it peeks out the front of his cap. I can see some grays coming through at his temples that only add to his good looks. There’s a small scar through his right eyebrow that catches my attention, making me wonder how he got it. Maybe a bar fight or some accident? I fight the involuntary urge to press a hand to my own.
Below that, his dark green eyes are focused on me as I continue to survey his handsome face. And other than where another small mark scars his chin, uniform stubble covers a defined jaw and a bit below. He’s got a mostly straight nose with a little crook in the bridge, and disgustingly perfect, pouty lips that are stretching wide as I fail to hide my casual perusal of his features.
I stop staring and grab one of the water glasses from the counter, holding it up in cheers. He grabs the other and clinks my glass with his. That broad smile is slowly covered as he brings the water up to his mouth.
Superman is in my apartment. Drinking out of my favorite thrifted cups. Unknowingly cheersing my decision to shoot my shot.
Bombs away.
“So I have a proposition for you,” I blurt.
Matt sputters a bit and coughs, setting his glass down on the counter with a loud clink.Whoops. Could’ve timed that better.
“A proposition?” he asks with raised eyebrows.
I can feel the blush on my cheeks, but I know this is my chance, so here goes.
“Yes. So”—I clear my throat—“before I moved here a few months ago I lived in Boston with my boyfriend, Josh. Well, ex-boyfriend now, but current boyfriend then. I’m single now, we aren’t still together. You get it. Anyway, we actually broke up a couple of months before I moved so it’s been a while since we were, like,togethertogether.”
I don’t think Matt’s eyebrows can go any higher at this point.
“And I don’t know about you, but that’s kind of a long time, ya know? And the more I think about it, the more worried I am that when I eventually get together with someone new, I’ll forget what to do or be bad at it. And what if I ruin my next relationship before it starts because the first time we have…you know…Iforget what to do and suck? I mean, it’s a lot of pressure, and I was with my old boyfriend for a longish time, so it’s not like I have a lot of experience with what different people do. I just kind of know what we used to do…”
I trail off and take a breath. I study my hands holding the water glass.Very smooth, Ellie. Word vomit is sexy.
“I know I sound crazy and I swear I’m not. I just feel like it would be best if I could kind of rip the Band-Aid, so to speak, and try…getting together…with someone.”
I look up at Matt and notice I have his full attention. His eyes are trained on my face and, thank friggin’ heavens, he’s not laughing at me or looking at me like I am, in fact, crazy. Time to wrap up this pitch.
“What do they say? It’s like riding a bike? Or something like that. So…um, yeah, I guess my proposition is asking you if you’d be willing to do that. With me. And go into it with all the information I just shared so you aren’t disappointed if I’m not…well…good.”
Riiiip.
Okay. I did it. Well, I did the first part. Still an accomplishment. I give myself a mental high five and take a breath.
Matt picks up his water and drinks the rest in three big swallows. I watch his throat bob and feel the first inkling of excitement over the possibility of doing this with him. He’s so attractive it’s borderline offensive, and probably…seven years older than me? Ten? So he’s got to be experienced. This would be perfect. If he says yes.
Matt sets his glass down and studies my face. He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it.
“I know this is weird,” I hurry to add. “I’m not exactly a super-forward person, so that should speak to how nervous-slash-desperate I am.” I take a few sips of my water and findmyself wishing it was one of those mojitos. One, becauseyum. And two, liquid courage. I had three drinks at the bar earlier tonight and the buzz has long since worn off.
This is so embarrassing.I set the glass down and spin it a little, watching my hands.
“So, to be clear. You want to have sex. With me. As…practice?”
My head jerks up at his question. Crap, did I insult him? I give him an apologetic smile. “Sounds pretty bad, huh?”
