Shelby 1, Randy 0.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I quip, turning back to the mirror.
“I know you’re trying to impress her, which is sweet, but you also need to wear what makes you comfortable.”
“You’re saying ditch the collared shirt?”
“Are you going to a church or the cemetery?”
“Wasn’t planning on it, but you never know where the night might lead us.” I wink, then think for a moment. “You’reright,” I say, pulling the shirt over my head and throwing it on the bed.
She makes her way to my closet, already knowing I’m going to ask for her opinion. She slides the coat hangers back and forth and pulls out a shirt hidden between two jackets. It’s a shirt my mother gave me the last time I visited her. It’s a deep burgundy, and I already know it’s perfect before she says anything.
She turns to face me, taking the shirt off the hanger. “It’s cute you know…that you’re nervous. It means you care,” she says, handing me the shirt.
“Whatever, Shelby,” I say, my voice holding a playful defiance as I try to reclaim my confidence.
“Well,” she smiles as her eyes rake down my shirtless body. “Have an amazing night and thanks for the pre-show.” She slaps my right pec. “I’ll see that body again soon on the jumbotron.” She smirks, exiting my room.
Shelby 2, Randy 0.
I jump in my truck and reach for my phone when it vibrates in my pocket.
Christian: The star QB has a date. Making plays on and off the field. Good luck, bro.
Me: Luck is for rookies. I’ve got this date and our next win locked tighter than my spiral.
Christian: Really, cause Shelby said you were sweating bullets.
I look down at my armpits. No sweat yet. I crank the air on and suck in a deep breath because fuck, I’m still nervous.
Walsh: Requesting some country music for our next pre-game sesh.
Me: Going to war, not a rodeo!
Seth: How do I leave this group chat?
Christian: Don’t act like u weren’t singing along 2 Morgan Wallen.
Me: That was 1 time!
Seth: Just click on the name of the group and click leave group? Right?
Walsh: “Last night we let the liquor talk….”
Seth: *Left the group*
I pull up outside Rachel’s house and make my way to the front door. A few seconds later, she greets me wearing a cute blue and white floral dress that just reaches her knee. She has modest heels on adding to her elegance, and her smile sends warmth racing through my body.
We’ve had mind-blowing sex three times, so good it’s carved deep into my memory. Each time I think of one of our sex sessions, I think yup that was the best. The first time we had sex was the best, but God when she rode my dick so perfectly in my truck, her tits bounding in her black bra while she griped the steering wheel behind her, the best. But when she let me take her from behind, my hands around her neck—holy shit. I kept having to look at my desk to distract myself from finishing too soon. All of them were perfect, each different, but all incredible, a favorite can’t be decided.
So, I’m assuming since even though it is the first date, a kiss to the lips should be permitted.
“Hey,” I greet, placing a kiss to her lips.
I don’t hesitate with the kiss because even though I question myself internally, on the outside I show nothing but charisma and self-assurance. The town’s star quarterback, campus’s playboy on his dream ride to the NFL, surrounded by fans who love and adore him. I carry myself with certainty because it is expected, but when I am around her and it’s just ustwo, I’m not that person, I’m just…me…just a boy wanting to get to know the girl. I might be the person people chase and strive to get attention from, but right now I just want to fall to my knees in front of this woman and declare myself to her and only her. The past week getting to know Rachel has been nothing short of extraordinary. The way she’s affecting me, shifting something in me, is both unexpected and fucking thrilling.
I reach for her hand as I open the truck door, it’s a bit of an effort to get into my truck, but I always love the fact I can check out her ass while I help her in.
