“What does it say?” Anika asked, the excitement on her face was palpable.
“Um, it’s Brian. He asked me out for Saturday.” I smiled tightly. Something felt off.
Anika yelped, bouncing in her seat. “What exactly does the message say?”
I read them the message and while they swooned, another text message came in.
Charles: Just got an email about some equipment they want me to inspect at the old firehouse on Monday, as in tomorrow. That would be the perfect opportunity for you to get a behind the scenes look at a firehouse. And I can show you the pole. I can order the finest picnic basket known to man, and we could talk, eat, and drink wine on the roof. After we’ve eaten, we’ll take the rest of the wine back inside, and I’ll show you where the pole is. I’ll have chocolate and strawberries waiting at the bottom of the pole so once you slide down, I’ll be waiting. You know I’ve been doing low carb so my cheat night will involve me eating chocolate, strawberries, and you that night. And not necessarily in that order.
“Woah! What else did he say? Your smile got even bigger,” Dyani remarked, drawing everyone’s attention to my face.
I couldn’t stop smiling, so I just rolled my eyes. “I’m just smiling. No big deal.”
“So, are you going to go?” Anika asked giddily.
I looked down at the text message and felt desire tug at my gut. “I’m going to say yes,” I replied, sending a yes to both men.
“Okay, so a second date with Brian is in the works. You have a date with Mitchell tonight. Any other dates we should know about?” Dyani asked dramatically.
I laughed. “Well, there’s two other guys because I couldn’t resist, and their dates are on the same day! One’s name is Logan. He’s an actor and I didn’t have anything else to do so I agreed to a lunch date with him. We haven’t even exchanged numbers. We’re talking exclusively through SOS and that way, if it doesn’t work out, he doesn’t have my number. No harm, no foul.”
“That’s actually genius.” Carmen rubbed her chin. “If I would’ve thought of that, I wouldn’t have had to get a new number.”
I nodded. “The other is named Miles, and he’s an artist. He’s a music producer, songwriter, and he does murals around the city. He’s just effortlessly cool.” I saw another message from Charles flash across my screen, but I ignored it so I could log into the SOS app. “This is Miles.”
“¡Hola, papi chulo!” Carmen squealed as soon as she saw him. “He definitely has some Latin in his blood. Dominican?”
I nodded. “His dad is Dominican.”
Nichelle took my phone. “Okay, wait a minute… Wait a goddamn minute. All of them--Miles, Brian, Jayson, Mitchell, and Charles are all hot.”
“Don’t forget the new guy. Logan.” Dyani gave me a look. “She tried to slip him in without showing his picture.”
I chuckled. “He’s cute.” I took my phone and scrolled to Logan’s profile. “See.”
“You know how some leading men are hot and some are universally cute. He’s universally cute,” Dyani speculated.
“Like the boy next door,” Nichelle offered.
“Yes!” Dyani exclaimed. “Yes! Exactly!”
“Shut up!” I giggled, taking my phone away from her.
The Boy Next Door was Logan’s SOS profile name.
“I don’t know who I would pick. Brian is the one you clicked with, but Jayson is filthy rich.” Carmen moved her arms as if she were weighing the options. “Rich feels like it outweighs a good time. I think we were in a rush to judge my man Jay.”
Nichelle elbowed her.
“Ow! I’m just being honest,” she contended with a laugh. Carmen looked around at us with a comically serious expression. “How do we know Jay is looking for an insta-wife? Maybe he just sees that Desi is wifey material, and he wanted to lock her down before someone else did.” She shrugged. “Sounds like a rich start to a luxurious life with a wealthy man. Win, win.”
“Shut up,” I booed her, with Nichelle and Anika hissing at her.
“Dyani, back me up,” Carmen laughed as we continued to chastise her.
“Why is it wrong to want to root for the rich guy?” Dyani asked, looking around at everyone before her eyes landed on me. “I’m not rooting for Jayson. He’s hot—I mean, those photos of him look like modeling photos—but he sounds a little too serious. Like he wants to settle you down and start a life tomorrow. And I’m not sure what Brian makes, but if he’s a chemical engineer, he has to make a decent amount of money. So, again… why is it wrong to want to root for the rich guy?”
Dyani and Carmen stood up and high-fived across the table.
“Lord knows there’s nothing wrong with rooting for the rich guy,” Nichelle explained, finishing off her mimosa. “But if that’s all he has to offer, then he has nothing to offer.”
“Amen!” I cosigned, slapping my hand with hers.
“I like Brian,” Anika chimed in. “I just think he’s the one. I don’t know. I think he’s the one.”
“Well, if we’re throwing out guesses, I’m going with one of the new guys. Not the one tonight. He sent a dick pic and if she were interested, she would’ve said a little more when she showed it to us. And she keeps saying that Charles is just looking to show her a good time. But at the same time, she keeps bringing up Charles. Hmm, so I guess Miles is my pick.” Nichelle rubbed her hands together. “This is fun!”
I rolled my eyes playfully. “Fun for who? Can you guys not do this?”
“Okay, so let’s not tell her who we’re picking, but let’s put a little wager on it,” Carmen announced to which the others giggled and clapped in excited agreement.
“I kind of hate you guys right now,” I joked as I shook my head and pushed my chair away from the table. “I need to go get ready for the concert. Are you ready?”
They continued whispering nonsense, ignoring me.
“You guys are the worst friends in the history of friends,” I grumbled, digging into my handbag for my wallet. “I have to go!”
Nichelle checked her phone and then looked at me. “Desi, you don’t have a lot of time to get ready for your date. I’ll pay for your brunch.”
“No, no, save your blood money for your ridiculous bet on my love life,” I griped, until I realized I didn’t have any cash. My eyes flicked up to meet Nichelle’s knowing gaze.
“You didn’t have time to stop at the ATM, remember?” She flashed me a smile. “So you can either wait for them to bring us the bill and then divide it up and wait for them to run your card or…” She reached out and rubbed my arm. “Or you can let me pay for your brunch with my blood money.”
Holding in my laughter, I shook my head. “I love you, even though I can’t stand you.”
Quickly moving around the table, dropping kisses on the top of each of my best friends’ heads, I hustled out of the restaurant and to my car.
SOS: Mitchell
Name: Mitchell
Age: 31
Relationship Status: Single
Looking For: A Relationship
Children: 0
Occupation: Entrepreneur
Bio: I’m from West Philadelphia (born and raised)— (if you didn’t immediately think to start singing the theme to The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, you’re either too young or too old for me.)
I moved to the area a year ago and I love it, but I still represent my home. I love cheesesteak, Eagles, Phillies, 76ers, Flyers, and I’m very proud of my MBA from Wharton. I own my own business so that takes up a lot of my time. When I’m not working, I’m all about the music. Live shows, open mics with local artists and bands, worldwide concerts. I love music and I’m looking for an independent woman who loves music, good times, and appreciates hard work. Is that you?
Chapter 8
Desiree: Well, I am intrigued to see what your signature date move is after everything you’ve been saying to me. If nothing else, I’ll be able to tell you if you need to switch up your style.
Charles: I don’t
have signature date moves. I haven’t gone on enough dates to have a signature move.
Desiree: Oh, I forgot… this new age of dating is less about wining and dining and more about swiping and fucking
Charles: For me, it’s quality over quantity. I know what I want and I go for it. I don’t need to fuck five women if I’m fucking one good one.
Desiree: But you’re also not looking for a girlfriend, so how do you make that work?
Charles: There are some women who are content with just being with me—no title, no commitment. I know this comes as a surprise to you, but you are one of very few women who are immune to my charms.
Desiree: Immune to your charms? I wish you could see me rolling my eyes.
Charles: I’ll get to see you rolling your eyes tomorrow I’m sure. After making excuses for the last two weeks, I’m still surprised you said yes.
Desiree: I reserve the right to change my mind at any time.
Charles: This is true. But then again, I only want you if you’re giving me your full consent that I can have you.
I felt my cheeks heat as I looked up to make sure I was still alone and that my date wasn’t on his way back to me.
Desiree: I’m on a date. We’ll discuss what you can and can’t have later.
Charles: You say you’re on a date as if you’re trying to make me jealous… Are you trying to make me jealous, gorgeous?
Desiree: No, just pointing out the facts and telling you the truth.
Charles: Your honesty turns me on.
Desiree: What doesn’t turn you on?
Charles: Paperwork.
A small, stifled giggle escaped my lips.
Desiree: You’re ridiculous. Why don’t you do some work? I’m on a date.
Charles: Yes, you seem to always be on a date. And yet somehow, you end up talking to me. You’re not interested in him. Instead of wasting your time with that guy, you should swing by the station on my break.
Desiree: Hmmm… now who sounds jealous?
Charles: I’m not jealous of any other man you entertain conversation with or even who you allow to take you out.
Desiree: Oh, really?
Charles: Yes, really. Because while they are wining and dining you, spending money trying to impress you, and inevitably, doing their best to try to fuck you, you’re messaging me…which tells me that you’re thinking about me as much as I’m thinking about you.
I let out a breath. My skin tingled as a yearning feeling spread just beneath the surface of my skin and throughout my body. Something deep in my gut twisted, and I had to cross my legs to alleviate the throbbing between them.
Desiree: I have to go.
Charles: I’m sure you do.
I sat back in one of the two lawn chairs Mitchell had set up under a small canopy that blocked the sun from above and behind us. Before he’d gone to get more bottled water, the conversation flowed and it was easy to forget we were in a very public space with people steadily filling the amphitheater. We were one of the first to arrive, and we’d gotten an amazing spot that gave us a perfect view of the stage and of the city. As The Perch amphitheater looked as though it was reaching maximum capacity, I leaned forward and swiveled my head around looking to see if I could spot my date for the evening.
It took all of thirty seconds, but I spotted Mitchell walking toward me holding two bottles of water. He was garnering attention because he carried himself with an aura of confidence that would make anyone question if he was some sort of celebrity or professional athlete. And with my sunglasses on, I could openly scan his body without his knowledge.
Good gracious, he is sexy, I thought, watching the way his oversized body gracefully moved through the outdoor crowd.
Mitchell said that he played college football, and the fans nicknamed him The Stallion. And as this big, beautiful, majestic hulk of a man made his way, it was clear he was an athlete. His biceps rippled from beneath the cotton polo shirt sleeves. He took up a lot of space, but not just with his body, but with his energy as well.
He was well put together. His denim shorts were a little loose, but not excessively baggy. His sneakers looked like they were fresh from the box without a speck of dirt on them. His smile was as relaxed as his attire. But when he licked his lips, I saw a hint of fire within them.
“Thank you.” I took the bottle he handed me as he sat down in the chair beside me. “I couldn’t help but notice the way people look at you when you cut through the crowd. Has it always been like that? I mean, obviously, you’re tall, dark, and handsome. But have you always garnered so much attention?”
“Attention? I didn’t notice anyone but you today.”
I giggled as he took my hand and kissed it. “Smooth, Mitch. Smooth.”
The crowd started clapping as the musicians got into position. Once everyone settled down, the music began and it was magnificent.
With the gorgeous weather, the best seats in the place, and the perfect gentleman beside me, I was having one of the best dates I’d ever had. It just felt so easy and so carefree. It didn’t really feel like a date at all. I had no nerves. I had no anxiousness. It just felt like two people hanging out.
Hmmm… should I be concerned that I don’t feel nervous energy, a spark, or anything? Is it a good thing that I feel nothing?
As dusk descended upon us and as the last set of musicians made their way to the stage, Mitchell grabbed my hand. His lips brushed my knuckles.
I turned toward him and smiled. “Thank you for this. It’s been such a great night.” A breeze swept through the amphitheater and a chill shook me. “Oh!” I yelped in surprise.
“You’re welcome. Thank you for being a perfect date.” He looked around for his book bag and then pulled out a blue blanket. Moving his chair so that we were practically sitting on top of each other, he draped the blanket over our laps and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close.
He smelled nice, and his warmth was welcome since there was a notable chill in the air. I rested my head on his shoulder and he kissed the top of my forehead as the music began. My eyes closed, and I enjoyed the moment. Even though it wasn’t a rush of butterflies or any kind of physical reaction to Mitchell, there was something overwhelmingly romantic about being in his arms.
“I’ve been enjoying getting to know you, Desiree,” Mitchell stated softly as the music swelled. “You are smart, beautiful, and into music.”
“Thank you,” I returned, snuggling my head into his nook. He ran his fingertips down my arm before grabbing the blanket and pulling it up higher on me. It was a sweet gesture and made me smile. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you as well. You’re such a gentleman.”
“There is no one I can think of that I’d rather be here with tonight. You’re just so chill… You don’t feel the need to talk over the music or anything.”
My lips parted as I smiled again. “It takes a real sense of comfort to just sit in silence with someone. It’s like it feels natural.”
“It does feel natural. It feels right.”
I nodded.
A few minutes passed before I felt him take my hand under the blanket. With my eyes still closed, the music still going, and the comforting warmth of him around me, I felt so relaxed and at ease.
This might be the—what the fuck?
My hand was placed on a rather small nub that even though I knew had to be his dick, part of me felt like it couldn’t be his dick.
I know for damn sure this isn’t the same dick he texted me.
I was in such shock that my hand remained on the small, protruding object for a second longer than it should’ve.
Recoiling, I hopped to my feet, causing the blanket to pull away from his lap. “What are you doing?” I growled, glaring at him. I wiped my hand against the lavender backless sundress I wore.
Mitchell scrambled to cover himself as he looked around frantically. “I th-thought we were having a moment.” He tucked his dick back into his shorts and zipped himself up. “I’m sorry. I j
ust thought… I mean, you said it felt right and natural.”
“I meant for us to be sitting here together, not that it was the right time for you to put it on your au natural dick,” I hissed.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… Just please, just sit down.” He looked around nervously. “I’m sorry. There’s only one more performance and then we can go. I just thought… I’m sorry.”
I moved closer to him and saw him visibly relax. I held his gaze for a second. “I will leave whenever I damn well please,” I hissed as I snatched my purse from the side of the chair I was sitting in. “Don’t follow me. Don’t call me.”
Turning on my heel, I stormed off.
“Desiree!” Mitchell called to me just as the brass quintet drowned him out.
Opening my bag, I pulled out my keys and my cell phone.
Muttering to myself, I made a beeline to the parking lot down the hill. “This motherfucker had the audacity to put my hand on his dick. That’s sexual assault. What in the actual fuck is happening? Is this real life?”
“Ma’am?” A cute young woman with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes was staring at me in bewilderment.
“Yes?” I snapped, unable to control the annoyance I felt within me.
“Oh! I um… I didn’t quite hear you.” Her bushy eyebrows crinkled and her nose twitched. “Were you talking to me?”
I realized I’d been complaining about my date out loud and I died a little bit on the inside. “I’m sorry. I was talking to myself.”
“Okay…” She made a face and then hurried by me as she called up to her two gigging friends ahead of her.
Now people think I’m crazy.
Disasters in Dating Page 10