Never Been Kissed(33)

My phone vibrates in my purse. Cursing, I practically shove my whole arm in the thing before I get my prize.

“Hello?” I almost-yell into the phone.

“Hey.” Is this real? This shouldn’t be a surprise. I know Hunter said he would call, but he actually did. Isn’t there supposed to be a game of phone-tag here?“You there?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure am,” I say. Dork. I’m a giant dork. I’m walking home from the metro, staring around at the vibrant colors late spring has brought with it, and even though summer is only two and half weeks away, it feels like bikini weather. Not that I would wear a bikini; unless I want children and grown men to run away from me, screaming. The sun’s beating down its heat on my shoulders – the only reason why I’m suddenly too hot despite the breeze.

“Have you thought about our dinner?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I have.” I trip over a crack in the sidewalk, turn back around and give it a glare before going on my way. I sigh, giving myself over to it. Fine – what’s the worst that could happen? “You’re not gonna turn into a grade-A dick if we have a bad time tonight?”

Hunter chuckles, deep and sexy and I can just picture myself hearing it in the comfort of his bed, his body plastered to mine. Brain, you’re being mean.

“No. I won’t.”

“Excuse me if I’m disinclined to believe you.”

“What?”

I sigh again. “Don’t you watch any movies? This is crucial to understanding me.”

“Then I guess I have a lot of movies to watch.” Oh, I hope he’s smiling on the other end. He might just be. “Now, what do you feel like eating?”

I shrug, forgetting that he can’t see me. “I don’t really care. I could do burgers if that’s easier...”

“Sera, you don’t have dinner for the first time with a woman you want to get to know better at a fucking McDonald’s.” Point: Hunter.

“Jesus, no need to get pissy! I made a fraking suggestion. You choose where you wanna go. Just tell me what to wear.”

Hunter groans. I can almost imagine him swiping a hand over his face. “You’re not playing fair.”

I stop in the middle of the sidewalk, even get jostled by other people walking home from the metro station. I start my feet up again, at a slower pace. “What?”

Another seductive laugh from the other end. “You don’t tell a man to think of ways he wants to dress his girl.”

His girl. I’m so screwed. All I manage is a breathy, “Why not?” Then reality sets in. “If you’re going to suggest I wear some sort of leather contraption, I will hurt you.”

“Fucking shit, just stop.” He’s really laughing now, and the sound makes me feel like I can fly. “Wear your favourite shirt with the sayings on them.”

I’m red, burning red, glowing red. How can he think of me in that way? Weirdo. “I can do that.”

“We’ll drop Matty off at my mom’s, then go. Can you be ready for six?”

I glance at my watch; it’s barely past four. I can even take a nap! “Sure thing. And Hunter?”

“Yeah?”

“Never mind. I’ll see you at six.” I was going to ask for Matty to come along. Jesus, I need a four year old for protection, like Hunter’s the big bad wolf.

When I let myself into my apartment, I immediately go to my closet. Pulling out skinny jeans (Freddie Mercury thought fat-bottomed girls were awesome enough to write a song about them), and a tank that has all the names of the kids in The Goonies on it, I’m ready to go.

I’m starving, so I munch on a banana while I grab my clothes and head to the bathroom. I shower, inspect the hair on my legs. Being of Mediterranean descent, I’ve waged a war on my body hair since I turned fourteen. Eleven years later, I hardly have anything left. I do a quick shave – just in case. Not like Hunter is going to see my bare legs without sprinting away in horror.

I slip on my Superman undies – I might just need Kal-El’s strength tonight.

I watch TV for a bit. I doze off for forty five minutes. I rush to get my clothes on since Hunter’s going to be here in three fraking minutes. I nearly stab my mascara wand through my eye while trying to make my eyelashes look amazing. I try and rub out the crease that my pillow case left behind on my face without much progress. I wonder if I should wear heels – but what if I need to run away when he turns out to be a psycho?

I’ve just finished tying up my Justice League Chuck Taylors when the heavy knock comes. I grab my glasses, purse, phone, a sweater and keys. Doing all this at the same time, I walk out of my apartment, my nose on a collision course with Hunter’s hard pectoral.