Dirty Playboy

by Wolf, Alex

  I’ve literally pretended to be some entirely different person around Mary, twenty-four seven. Why? Why am I asking myself why? I know why. I’m in love with her, and there’s no fucking way I can come out and say that, because it’s insane. But I will do anything to be with her, and that includes being fake as hell, just so I can be near her.

  I think that’s my biggest fear. She says she wants the real me, but does she know what she’s asking for? Can I tell her everything I am? Things about my past?

  “I know it all probably seems nuts to you, but I don’t regret one bit of it.”

  “You mean this whole ‘Christian Rick’ persona?”

  “It’s not all bullshit.” I wince a little the second I say “bullshit” because I never curse in front of her.

  Her eyes widen for a second, but then narrow in on me. “What do you mean?”

  I shrug. “What I said. It’s been good for me. I don’t know that I necessarily love the church and my belief system is a conversation that could take all damn night, but I think it’s made me a better person. I like the people at church, and Jeremiah. I consider a lot of them to be real friends.”

  Mary sits there for a long moment, probably thinking through what I’m telling her. “So they’re not just little pawns in your scheme or whatever? You really care about them?”

  My fingers tighten a little on the steering wheel. “Of course.” I hate that she sees me as a manipulator who doesn’t care about anyone else but myself and what I want. That’s okay, though. I have time to change her mind, if she’ll just let me.

  She smiles at my words, then her eyes light up even more when I pull into a parking lot. “You brought me to Smoque?”

  “I know it’s not super fancy, but I figured it was as close to Texas as you were going to get.”

  I pull up and park, and Mary starts to get out of the car. Instinctively, my hand goes to her leg before I can stop myself. My eyes meet hers and I just say, “Wait.”

  Fuck if it doesn’t feel amazing too. I don’t ever want to let go of it. Her skin is so soft and smooth, and she’s so fucking hot. The fact she doesn’t act all snobby about her beauty is ten times hotter than some arrogant chick who lies in a tanning bed all day. Why is everything so damn intense with her? A hand on the leg and I think my cock might burst through my jeans. All my senses are dialed to eleven because I haven’t gotten laid in damn near a year, and I just got a two-second hand on the thigh like I’m thirteen and about to feel a girl up for the first time.

  Reluctantly, my hand leaves her leg and I get out and walk around the car to open her door for her. Her face is a little flushed when I help her out, and I think I may have affected her even more.

  I take her hand and say, “C’mon,” and pull her toward the door. Surprisingly, once we’re away from the car and heading up to the entrance, she doesn’t let go.

  Fuck me. I’m on a date, holding hands with Mary Patrick. Usually, in the past, my mind would be on getting laid this early in the evening. All I want to do is kiss her right on those innocent lips of hers, though. That’s the only thing I want, and don’t care about anything after that. It’s going to be heavenly torture tonight.

  * * *

  “So how did you really know to bring me here?” Mary takes a huge bite out of a rib.

  Fuck, these women from Texas can eat. Tate and Abigail destroy the food spreads at work all the time. It’s fascinating. Mary is no different. Barbeque sauce on her fingers, not giving a damn. She’s perfect.

  I snap out of my daydreaming while staring at her. “Oh, it was easy. Combination of it being your top takeout menu in your desk, two different conversations you had with Tate and Abigail about how this was best in the city, and I saw a takeout box in the paralegal refrigerator with your name written on it.”

  “How did you know it was takeout from here? Their boxes are plain.”

  “Opened it up and saw their logo on a little container thing.”

  Her eyes vault open. “You opened my takeout?”

  My shoulders start bouncing. “Yeah.” Why hide it now?

  She shakes her head, then takes another bite and seemingly forgets everything I just told her.

  “So, you’re from Chicago?”

  “Not originally.”

  “Where’d you grow up?”

  “Detroit. Moved here when I was about eighteen.” Damn, I have to be careful with this. I told her I’d be me, but I never talk to anyone about my childhood. I want to tell her so much. I want to start with a clean slate, just everything out in the open, but there are some things I just can’t. She’d run for the hills. Mary is a very forgiving person, but some things are unforgiveable.

  I think part of it might be that I don’t want to relive anything too. I don’t want to visit places in my mind I’ve forgotten about.

  “You still have family there?”

  How do I answer this? “Yes and no.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “I think my dad’s still around, but we had a falling out a long time ago. Haven’t seen each other since.”

  I look around at this place, trying to change the conversation with my body language.

  The restaurant is awesome, and it smells amazing. I got a pulled pork sandwich, and it might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten. Now, I know barbeque is about the meat, but I’d be remiss not to point out they have the best sides too. We have barbecue beans, macaroni and cheese, corn bread.

  I pray Mary is going to leave the interrogation alone. Pushing for more than what I’ve given her would seem a little too intimate for a first date. But this is way more than a first date. We’ve been doing this whole—whatever we’re doing—for a long time.

  “Wow, that must be hard.”

  Her response catches me a little off guard. “I mean, not really. He’s not a great guy.”

  “I can’t imagine not seeing my dad.”

  Perfect, I can flip flop this little conversation. “You close with your family?”

  “Oh yeah, super close with both my parents, and my siblings. Probably most with my dad, but not by much.”

  “They all still in Texas?”

  Mary nods. “Yeah.”

  I narrow my eyes on her. “You don’t fit in, do you?”

  Mary drops her fork. “What?”

  “Why’d you move up here? If they’re all down there and you guys are so close?”

  Mary squirms a little in her chair. Fuck, I made her uncomfortable.

  I hold up a hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be…me.”

  She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay, I told you to be you.” She takes a deep breath. “I don’t know, maybe, subconsciously that’s how I feel about it and what drove me here. I’ve never really thought about it that much. I’ve just always felt this urge to not end up there forever. I love going home to visit and hang out, but they’re a few hours outside of Dallas, and even moving to the city was like getting out of the small town, you know?”

  “Sure, I could see that. You’re more adventurous than you think.”

  “Hah! Good one.”

  “I’m being serious.” I take a sip of water. “Takes balls to leave comfort behind. It’s rebellious. Punk rock, even. I only left Detroit to get away from my dad, or I’d probably still be there. One could argue, you’re more of a rebel than I am.”

  Mary smiles, a big cheesy smile. “Definitely way more of a rebel than you. Wearing a Led Zeppelin tee shirt to work has nothing on what I’ve done.”

  “Exactly.”

  “How exactly do you get to have a different dress code from everyone else? I’ve never seen anyone flaunt the Collins brothers’ authority so brazenly.”

  “Can’t tell you all my secrets on the first date. Wouldn’t be any mystery left.” I signal for the waiter to bring the check and he drops it off. I toss some cash for the bill and a tip on the table, then stand up and hold out my hand. “Come on, rebel. Time to go see Jesus get nailed.”

  Mary’s eyes go wide
, then she shakes her head right at me, and mouths, “Oh. My. God.”

  I shrug, and start to say something, but she cuts me off.

  “Don’t even say it. I know, I asked for this.”

  “Indeed, you did.” This time I get some hand-on-the-lower-back action on the way to the car. I’m crushing this date, now that I’ve gotten out of my own way.

  I smile at Mary as we walk toward the car. I approached this whole thing wrong from the start. I should’ve done this from the beginning.

  You live and learn.

  * * *

  The play went fantastic. It was actually really good, performance-wise. I thought it’d be amateur as hell, but there was some real talent on the stage.

  There’s something so surreal about the life of Jesus. I don’t know if I buy into all the supernatural shit that goes with it; virgin births and reanimation, but there’s one thing I do know—reading the Bible, being in church a lot, it’s made me a better person. It’s made me care about people other than myself. The basic shit in the Bible is great, and I like Jesus as a person. The dude was kind and patient and always thought through everything before speaking, very logical, and flaunted authority. I find him to be a great philosopher. Usually, I find the idea of Christians and church to be hypocritical, but I’ve never felt that way at Mary’s church. Hell, I guess I should call it my church too.

  In a nutshell, I love a lot of the lessons in the Bible, and I find them to be applicable to just about anyone, from a moral perspective. At least in the New Testament.

  I just don’t know if I buy into him rocketing his ass Elton John-style, up into the sky with some angels.

  I held Mary’s hand through the last part of the play when they crucified him. So that was nice, although I feel a little bad my favorite part of the show was via a two-thousand-year-old execution of her savior.

  I think maybe the best part is, the whole ride home, she hasn’t said anything about the play. Conversation is just normal. Usually, when you get a Christian all amped up on their Bible stories, they go into full-pitch conversion mode and try to market their faith to you. That’s what I admire about Mary. I’ve seen her with people—a lot. She never pushes her beliefs on anyone. She always puts everyone else first, but not at a detriment to herself. She doesn’t allow people to walk all over her, but she sees the positive in everyone. She’s so kind, and just—good. It’s infectious. Maybe that’s what I love about her most. She looks for everything positive when she looks at me. I want to be a good man when I’m with her, and that’s so sexy, and amazing, and just different from anything I’m used to.

  We pull up to her apartment building, and the nerves fire up in my bloodstream.

  I know what this is. It’s moment-of-truth time. It’s the infamous first date walk to the door. I would be lying my ass off if I said I didn’t want to kiss Mary Patrick, and kiss her long and good. I want it more than anything. Literally, it’s the only thing on my mind. I think I might get blue balls if I don’t get to feel her lips pressed up against mine before I have to say goodbye and this perfect evening ends.

  My stomach is tied in a damn pretzel, and my hands are fidgety. Zero chance of getting laid tonight, and I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been. Who the hell am I? I think I might be infected with something.

  I mean, she definitely seems into me. One hundred percent. Every sign is there. Any other woman I’d have probably kissed already and be headed to a hotel room instead of her apartment, but this is not any other woman. It’s Mary.

  I get out of the car and open her door. She takes my hand and doesn’t let go. All great signs. The stars and planets are aligning. My heart pumps with every step we take toward her door.

  Shit, I think this is gonna happen. It’s really gonna happen.

  She smiles at me. I smile back.

  Ten feet.

  Five feet.

  We’re almost there. Our footsteps rumble like earthquakes in my mind. Each one loud and pronounced, moving in slow motion.

  I’m doing it. Fuck it. I’m going to make a move on Mary Patrick.

  I think.

  Mary Patrick

  I’ve never experienced anything like this walk to my door. This date went about a million times better than I could’ve ever imagined. I glance up at Rick; there’s something so different about him now. This whole whatever we’ve been doing has always been like a cartoon or something, unhinged from reality. It’s never been real life.

  Not now, though. Not with the butterflies racing through my stomach, the adrenaline pumping through my veins, the sweat clamming up my palms. He’s dead serious, has a look of determination on his face, and with each step, time slows down a little more.

  My brain has been so active, it just now dawns on me that he’s going to kiss me. At least, I think he’s going to. Judging by the way the entire date went, it’s the next logical progression of events.

  Oh boy.

  My stomach flutters like it has never fluttered before. I could almost float to the door, I think.

  And then what?

  Oh no.

  What if he wants more? Are we supposed to do more next? I’ve never dated a man like Rick before. It seems like we might.

  Cue my brain going into a frenzy. I should not want this man as bad as I want him right now. It feels so wrong, but every step I take with him, my toes and fingers feel numb. Lightning flashes through my limbs, intense, blissful electrical charges. It’s all landing right between my thighs. There is only one truth in this world right now. I want Rick Lawrence, and I want him bad, more than any man on the planet. I want those strong hands to grip me by the hips, I want him to run his fingers through my hair, I want to feel his tongue against my neck.

  Most of all, I want a sign from him that says he wants me, in a physical sense. It’s all been mental so far. My body screams for his touch and it feels so wrong, but so right too. So right.

  You have to say no if he wants more. It’s way too soon to hand that over to him. What if that’s all he wants?

  Shut up, brain!

  My body is buzzing right now. Warning signs flash in my brain. I’m surprised I can even walk, and my legs feel wobbly.

  We don’t say anything the whole way to my door but share several looks along the way. Finally, after an eternity, I stop in front of it.

  Rick looks down at me and his eyes are hungry, like he might devour me. It’s just—intense, smoldering. My neck heats up and I get a little dizzy.

  “I had a great time tonight, Mary.”

  Of course, his voice sounds ten times sexier than usual. Everything about him was different until I agreed to this date, until I actually gave him a chance. Now, I have something, some kind of potential, right in front of me and I don’t want to lose it. Even if it’s reckless and stupid and I don’t have time for any man, let alone this man. I don’t want to deny myself this opportunity and wonder what would’ve happened.

  It was the best night of my life! Don’t you dare say that to him. He doesn’t need extra encouragement.

  “It was—nice.”

  His smile fades a little, and all I want to do is make him look at me the way he has been all night.

  “Really nice,” I say.

  He grins a little and shows me a hint of white teeth.

  This is the part where he makes the move. I’ve seen enough movies, read enough books, to know this is the moment. Right here. Right now. It’s coming together perfectly, like a storybook romance.

  Kiss him good, Mary. Don’t be awkward. This is your one opportunity. Act like you’ve done this before.

  It’s not a lie, I’ve kissed a few boys, I just haven’t done it with anyone like Rick. Every experience was always awkward, fumbling around, and I’m not convinced I wasn’t the problem. Surely, I’m not that bad. How can you really tell, though, unless your partner isn’t that bad either? Something tells me those were all practice sessions for this one opportunity.

  The stakes are so high. My entire future hinges
on this kiss.

  He’s going to want more, and I know I’ll have to shut him down, even though I want it more than anything. I’ve had sex before, a couple times, but never after a first date. Something tells me sex would be a whole new experience with Rick. I would probably enjoy myself. No, I definitely would. Look at him, he knows what to do. He’s so experienced.

  And you’re not.

  And how many women has he been with? Would it be safe?

  My brain really sucks.

  Rick stares down at me for a long second, then something happens I don’t expect. He leans back a little. Before he was totally engaged. I thought he might grab me and shove me against the wall and take whatever he wanted. Now, he’s different. Like he’s afraid he might taint me somehow, hurt me.

  I lean toward him a little before I can stop myself. I don’t care. I want this damn kiss to happen, despite my brain telling me to run for the hills. I don’t care. Call me selfish. Call me a sinner or whatever, even though that makes no sense. There are no Bible verses about kissing a man, not that I can recall right now. I like this man and if I want to kiss him, I will. If I want to do more with him, I will.

  Something about him leaning back has me drawn to him even more too.

  Say something!

  “I mean it. I had a really good time.”

  “You did?” He sounds apprehensive this time. His confidence is gone. Everything that makes Rick, well, Rick, has completely evaporated.

  No. No. No. Kiss me, idiot!

  I nod, slowly. “It was perfect. Thank you for showing me you.”

  He stares at me for a long time. His eyes pierce into mine. Then he sighs and says, “No problem.” He lingers for a moment.

  The moment is fleeting. It’s out of my reach.

  It’s lost. I’ve lost him. I don’t want to lose him. How desperate do I have to look?

  “We should do it again sometime.” I sound so needy. I don’t even care though. I’m out there, totally committed.