He tugs on my hand, stopping me from leaving the room. I let him pull me up against him. We wrap our arms around each other, and he looks down at me. “I was seriously going to sex you up. So, you either just got really lucky, or really unlucky.”
I can’t help but smile. “Maybe we’ll find out one day.”
“Maybe.” He gives me a kiss that feels more like a goodbye kiss in its sterility, but I’m going to go ahead and hope it’s a we’ll-try-again-later kiss. We walk down the stairs together to the front door, and I open it for him. The only thing I can think right now is that tomorrow I have a date with a stranger that I really don’t want to go on.
Dev detaches himself from me and walks out the front door. When he gets to his car he opens it up and says his last words to me. “You need to call me on Sunday.”
“Okay. Why?” I want to hear him say that he can’t stand to be away from me, that he looks forward to hearing my voice, that he wants to be more than friends.
“Because. You have a date on Saturday, and I want to hear all about it.”
And just like that, my heart sinks like a stone all the way down to my toes. I try to keep my cheer going on, though, because I’m not a teenage girl anymore, and he’s a dad with stuff he has to do that doesn’t involve me. I’ve had my heart ripped to shreds before, and I know how this stuff goes. I can be brave. I can hang. I might even be able to have casual dates and casual sex with this guy, because he still wants me to date other people.
I’m getting the message loud and clear now. We went out on a date, but we’re not in a relationship. A non-dating date of sorts. I guess we’re supposed to date other people and then talk about it together. This type of arrangement must be something new going on in the singles’ world that I missed out on while being married for ten years. I’m just going to have to adapt, if I want to have Dev in my life. And I do want that.
“Okay!” I yell, sounding like a cheerleader on speed. “No problem! I want to hear all about your date too!”
He gives me a thumbs-up and gets into his car.
I shut the door and lean against it, willing the tears to go away. But of course, they don’t listen. I slowly walk up the stairs and indulge in my hurt feelings. Tonight, I will cry myself to sleep one more time.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Getting ready for this evening is a bittersweet moment for me. It’s the real deal, not a non-dating date like I had with Dev, but I’m not exactly excited about going on it. I look at myself in the mirror, trying to lift my mood for the big event.
“It’s only a drink,” I say out loud. “It doesn’t even need to be alcoholic. Coffee, if you want. You just need to get out there and pop your dating cherry.”
Thinking about the cherry that I gave up to Miles long ago, and the fact that I was thinking for a little while last night that I was on my first real date in years, makes me get sad all over again.
I frown at my reflection. “Stop that. You are not going to pine for a guy you had a fabulous time with! That’s ridiculous! Dev will be a great friend for you. Hell, he might even end up being a friend with benefits if you play your cards right.” I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Just relax. You’re a single woman, free to enjoy your life. You’ve had two nights in a row to go out without the kids. This is a special moment, and you’re not allowed to ruin it by worrying about every last stupid little thing.”
Properly chastised, I force a smile and point at myself in the mirror. “That’s better. Remember: you da woman, Jenny. You da woman. Wonder Woman.”
I’m wearing the same dress that I had on last night with Dev. I probably shouldn’t, because it still smells faintly of fried food, and it reminds me of his hands on me and us rolling around on my bedroom floor, but my budget wouldn’t allow for two new outfits, and my old clothes are too fugly to be worn on a real date. I bought May a pretty little sweater and myself this dress yesterday, along with a cheap pair of shoes that caught my eye and a sexy bra and panty set. The rest went into my savings account. I’m only on a trial basis with this new job, and still a little unsettled about whether I’ll be keeping it, so I need to watch my pennies. Besides, a little spritz of perfume will cover up that fried catfish scent in a jiffy. I double my usual dose, spraying enough perfume to gag a maggot and forcing myself to leave the confines of my bathroom.
I check my watch. I have thirty minutes before this date is officially supposed to start. There were no new messages from my date, so I have to assume we’re still on. Is he feeling nervous like I am? Is he wondering where this will go? Or is he one of those guys who’s just looking for a quick roll in the hay?