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Dimples, the kryptonite for every woman.
I mentally applaud Going in Blind. No, an applaud is too tame, I need something more meaningful. I mentally ass slap them, right on the glute, hand to skin, leaving a red mark, a red mark of love. Nothing says thank you like a branded red-slap to the old buttocks.
“But . . . shoes.” I reach out to them, as if they’re Jack from Titanic and I’m Rose. I want to call out, “I’ll never let go” but my impatient date tugs my hand toward the beach. Mentally, I tell them not to talk to strangers and to keep their heels sharp.
This Saturday, you, me, and a kiss that needs to be claimed. I’m coming for you, Noely.
A baseball cap is going to make the ends stick out more, and I don’t feel like channeling my inner Monica Gellar when she was in Barbados.
Pulling me into his body, he places his hands on my hips and presses his forehead against mine.
“A vag high five.” “Exactly.” I point at Natasha. “A little chest bump but with our lady bits.”
It’s moments like these that I see the heavens open with beautiful payback for all the horrible things Alex did to me when I was a teenager.
Never thought my rebel would be my cuddler.
“The Suit and The Rebel. Who will be next?” I shrug, feeling nervous about another blind date. “Who knows, maybe it will be the nerd.” “Or the construction worker.” “Or the cop.” I point at her. “Or the single dad.” “Don’t forget the Navy SEAL.” “Ah,” Dylan sighs. “Any military man. We could be totally off. You might get the theater geek.”
I tickle her neck. “That would be funny. Should I call you balloon butt now?” “Noooooooo. I’m Chlo-money.” “You’re not Chlo-money.” Lauren makes that known real quick. “Your father is in big trouble for letting you watch Keeping Up with the Kardashians.”
But for the record, it’s a tight, fitted black turtleneck with three quarter length sleeves. it’s stylish, not something Michelle Tanner from Full House wore.
I pop up quickly, my legs feeling like a newborn calf’s, and throw my arms up in the air like a gymnast on her dismount. To add to the embarrassment, I say, “Nine point five, not a perfect ten, but I’ll get there.”
Whiskey equals truth serum. Shit. Shit and double shit.
He’s as crazy as me, and he’s had nothing to drink tonight. Can we all say . . . match made in heaven!
Hayden shakes his head. “Guess you’re not one to communicate in emojis, because any pro would know I’m trying to say Beauty and the Beast, meaning, hey come on over and snuggle with me while we watch the movie.” Hayden shakes his head. “I thought you were better than that, Noely.”
“It’s Hayden Fucking Holmes. Look, he’s on the FaceTime. Look!” “What?” Lauren twists the phone so she’s looking at the screen and . . . cue the screaming. “Oh my GOD!!! It’s Hayden Fucking Holmes!” There is nothing to really do but laugh, and laugh hard. Hayden and I sit there, our chests falling up and down, chuckling together as Lauren and Alex freak out. “I need to show him my boobs,” Lauren says. “Unzip my dress, Alex, undo my bra.”
“Want to grab some beer for us?” Lauren asks with a hopeful look in her eye. Leveling with her, I ask, “What did I tell you on the way over?” “You brought us to the game, but you’re not here to spoil us. You’re in your own element and to not embarrass you.”
“Was that not the right answer? Does this mean we’re not friends now? Was the right answer mimosa since that’s what you drink on the show? Okay, I change my answer to mimosa.”
“Because, you act like this tough, stern businessman, when in reality, you’re just a giant softy who loves to cuddle.”
From the very beginning, our hearts knew, we were meant for each other. It only took a date with a suit, a rebel, and a jock to figure it out.
