Lex(11)

Under shy lashes, I sidle up next to Corey, trying not to look at him too much. He’s already doing funny things to my stomach.

“You look stunning, Lex.” He gushes, offering his arm, which I accept by tucking my hand through it. His sexy, warm body presses against the outside of my arm and feels so nice touching me. Inhaling his delicious cologne, standing so close to him, I get drunk on his scent. Man, he’s all man, big beefy and probably big dicked.

Ooooppps, this is not a good reaction. Damn me and my hormones!

Guiding me through the front doors, we seat ourselves in the far side of the tavern in a four-person booth with red cushioned bench seats. Buckeye’s Tavern isn’t much different from any other small town bar. It offers food, a jukebox, alcohol, and basic seating. In the back, there’s a pool table and dartboard. Since its lunch hour on the weekend, it’s fairly empty, besides a few who I assume are regulars, sitting at the bar sipping beer and watching some form of sports on the TV plastered on the wall.

“What can I get cha?” Mary the well-worn heavyset waitress with too much blue eye shadow asks, dropping two plastic menus on our table.

“I’d like an iced tea, no lemon. Thank you.” I order and Corey winks at me as he orders the same.

Yes, this might not have been a good idea. I think I might have a wet spot already on my tight jade green slouch dress.

Sitting in awkward silence after the waitress disappears, I nervously stare down at my menu, running my fingers up and down the sides of the cheap plastic.

What do I want? What do I order? A burger is what I would probably order, but I’m a lady and this is sort of a first date.

Coming to take our orders, I go the safe route and pick a chicken Caesar salad and onion rings, Corey opts for a bacon cheeseburger and waffle fries. Hungry fella, I’m sure his bulging muscles need something to burn off. I bet he spends hours in the gym. Good God I can’t stop staring.

“Don’t stop looking at me, Lex.” Cupping my chin with his beefy fingers, he tilts my face so I am forced to meet his gaze. There goes my heart again. Oh, wow! I’m not used to this.

“I might not know what to say because, well…I’m a bit out of practice with the whole dating thing. But, I love to look at you. You’re even more beautiful since I last saw you. I think it was in Walmart about four years ago. I was back visiting my parents with Maryanne and our daughters.” Brushing my hair out my face, he tucks the strand behind my ear.

“Very beautiful.” He compliments and I feel my face flush.

“So you have two daughters?” I have to regain my composure somewhere. He is way too enchanting. I’ve known this I just never realized he was this much of a heartthrob.

“Yes, my daughter Megan, we had when I was eighteen right out of high school. You might remember that. She’s ten this year, and my daughter Bree is five, just started Kindergarten. This is their mother’s weekend, that’s why I suggested we go out for lunch. Do you have any children?”

Two daughters and asking me if I have kids, he is a rather interesting and well-rounded man. Or so it seems. Truth be told, I can’t birth children. It’s a matter of God never gave me the ability to carry them with my dysfunctional sex organ.

“No, sorry, I can’t have children.” I honestly admit. This isn’t the most painful part of my past so it’s fairly easy to express openly. It’s the other parts that I can’t handle revealing. Not without being committed to someone, with a bottle of Patrón and a pound of chocolate to help me get through it. Calling it sick or twisted is putting it lightly.

Corey keeps up the casual conversation; it’s easy and flows without much of a break. We’ve gotten past the awkwardness and I’ve learned quite a bit. He’s been separated from his wife for almost a year. They parted ways because she’s a workaholic and was sleeping with her secretary. Sounds a bit like me. Except I don’t actually sleep with Daniel, he merely makes me come; there is zero penetration.

Just as I feed my last bite of onion ring into my mouth, a man recognizes Corey coming in the front door of the bar. I’m not sure how long we’ve been here but it’s been at least a few hours.

“Corey!” The… Holy…mother…of everything…dazzling and fabulous in this world. Wow. I think Corey is hot, but this man puts, every man in every GQ or Playgirl magazine to shame.

Turning around Corey, raises his hand in greeting and waves the hottest man on the face of the planet over. Smiling, he strides toward us wearing a crisp white dress shirt rolled up his heavily tattooed forearms, black suit pants, a smart black belt, and probably the nicest most fashionable men’s dress shoes I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I’m a fashion conscious woman, and I own mostly designers and this man could be my new best friend in that department. I have no doubt his shoes cost him a couple grand. I’m in girl heaven here. Sadly, men who dress like this are either gay or douchebags.