Speed Dating (Speed Dating #1)

by Tabatha Vargo

  “I suppose, but I’m a firm believer in going for what you want. I never waste time.” Again, he grinned over at me and I could actually feel my panties getting wet. “Plus I couldn’t take the chances of you going home with that professional X-Box player over there. He’s been eyeing you since you walked through the door.”

  My eyes followed to the guy he was talking about and sure enough, there was a young guy sitting there in a surfer’s garb eye fucking me.

  “No worries. He’s not my type.” I waved him off.

  “Is that so? Well in that case, my name’s Jeff,” he said, extending his hand in greeting.

  My eyes moved across his strong fingers and rough hands, before I finally reached out. “Julia.”

  He wrapped his fingers around mine and lifted my knuckles to his mouth for a brief kiss. “It’s nice to meet you, Julia.”

  Smooth move.

  A buzzer sounded in the corner and he took his eyes away from me briefly. “Well, that’s my cue to leave,” he nodded in the direction of the speed dating crowd that was gathering. “The vultures will start to circle soon. There’s no bigger turn off than a woman desperate enough to speed date,” he laughed. “What do you say we get out of here?”

  And just like that my throbbing wet panty balloon was popped. I had two choices. One, I could leave before Sadie even got there and go home with Mr. Sexy, who I was sure I’d never see again afterward, or two, I could not do what I usually did. Break the pattern.

  “Sorry, I’m one of the desperate speed daters,” I shrugged. “Thanks for the shot, though.”

  I turned and stepped right into Sadie.

  “Damn, he’s hot,” Sadie said, her eyes taking in Jeff as he left the place.

  “Yeah. Too bad he’s just like every other guy I let in my panties. I was hoping he was one of the speed daters.”

  “You aren’t that lucky,” she laughed, motioning to the men who were already seated at their tables. None, and I do mean, none of them looked attractive from where I was standing.

  “Nope, you’re right… I’m not that lucky at all.”

  There were plus sides to the whole speed dating thing. First, you were meeting face to face, which meant you didn’t run the risk of running into the dreaded bullshit profile.

  We’ve all done it. You know the one that has the profile picture from his senior year, back when he actually had six pack abs instead of the keg that’s drooping over his belt. Or before he had the hairline that could only be described as a horseshoe pattern. Yeah, that guy. I’ve met that guy, and let me tell you, it wasn’t fun.

  The second benefit was you could move on. Quickly if need be, which was the case most of the time. If a guy started talking about his cat Fluffy, or his ex-girlfriend, you could just move on to the next sucker in line. No phone numbers exchanged so he could blow your phone up until a number change was in order. No awkward goodbyes with the fear of him slobbering all over your perfectly applied lipstick. Just a quick, “Peace out, bitch,” before moving on.

  As if hearing my thoughts, Sadie repeated them. “This is fucking genius. I’d like to blow the man who thought of speed dating—seriously suck his cock and balls until the fucking cows came home.”

  I wasn’t as aggressive about it as her, but I agreed. It was a genius idea. My only fear going into it was the quality of men who actually gave this shit a try. Looking around the room, any hope of a decent looking man went out the window.

  Are these going to be the kind of men who live in their mother’s basements and are only getting out of the house because Mommy Dearest is ready for them to finally leave the nest?

  Or are they going to be your club rats? You know the kind. They scream about GTL and DTF while fist pumping in your face and trying to hump your leg. It’s an epidemic ladies, and it appears to be contagious.

  Overall, what’s the worst that could really happen? It doesn’t work out? I don’t have much to lose at this point. Which leads me to the fact that I’m lonely. I know I’m still young, but my sister is married and playing house with her husband and kids, and my mother is almost three hundred miles north. My French bulldog isn’t exactly keeping me warm at night. If anything he fills the void for a snoring man. True story.

  I’d thought by this point in my life, Bryan and I would’ve been married. Maybe have a few kids or at the very least be headed in that direction. I should’ve known something was up by the fact that we never even talked about getting engaged or having kids. But the truth was I couldn’t think about it anymore. He no longer had the right to take up space in my head.

  “Attention, speed daters. Please gather ‘round for the rules of the evening.” A short, middle-aged balding man calls from the corner of the back patio.

  A crowd started to make its way outside, drinks in hand, to listen to what he had to say. Seeing as the host had probably never had a date in his life, I wasn’t feeling too confident about the night for myself.

  “Thank you for joining us for speed dating tonight. Ladies, you pick a seat. Men, you’ll be doing the moving tonight. Each date is three minutes. When the bell sounds, men you get up and move to your right. If you want to connect with someone again, please write their name down and do so at the end of the speed dating rounds. We have ninety minutes allotted for our dates tonight which should be more than enough time for y’all to make a love connection. Keep it clean, keep it classy, and have fun. Remember, ladies, if anyone makes you feel uncomfortable please bring it to our attention. Men, don’t be scumbags.”

  And like that we all herded toward the tables set up in rows for our speed dates.

  “Don’t get lost, you are sitting next to me for this,” I said, grabbing Sadie by the arm and pulling her in the direction of two free tables next to each other.

  “Hi my name’s Dave. I work for a local bank and I live alone with my dog, Chase.” The tall, slim, but disastrously ugly man said across from me.

  I wondered what our common ground would be for the whole three minutes I was forced to talk to him. Apparently, it would be dogs, which was totally fitting for him. Gag.

  “Oh nice. What kind of dog?” I asked, grabbing for straws when it came to socializing with someone who was openly staring at my tits.

  “He’s a teacup Chihuahua,” he responded.

  Nice. An ugly dog for an ugly owner. Very fitting.

  “I have a French bulldog named Bailey.”

  Yes, I named my dog after alcohol. Don’t judge me.

  As if he hadn’t even heard me, he continued on. “I’ve had him since he was twelve weeks old, and he’s eight now,” he gushed about his dog just long enough to fill the time slot and make my eyes cross.

  As the buzzer sounded through the sticky summer air, I was thankful snoop ugly dog would be moving on to occupy three minutes of Sadie’s time. That’s what she got for forcing me to do this.

  It was then that professional X-box player sat down in front of me. His shaggy blond hair rested on his shoulders and looked as if it hadn’t been washed in weeks. Just looking at him made me feel dirty, and not in the good way.

  “The name’s Todd,” he said, extending his hand across the table for me to shake it.

  I closed my fist to give him nothing more than a germ-a-phobic fist bump. I was half tempted to reach for the hand sanitizer in my purse, when he started talking about gaming.

  “Do you game?” he asked from across the table.

  His tongue swiped across his bottom lip giving me a view of his tobacco stained teeth. He was trying to be sexy and it wasn’t working.

  “Um, what kind of games? I like Monopoly and Life,” I smiled.

  It was hard being polite when he was openly devouring me with his eyes. Gross.

  “Nah, man, like video games. Call of Duty—Halo… the good shit.”

  It was about then that my mind started to drift. My eyes scanned the room around me and landed on Sam’s from across the bar. He shook his head and smiled at me and I rolled my eyes and smiled back. />
  “Have you ever played any of those?” Gamer guy asked and caught me completely of guard since I hadn’t been listening to him at all.

  I paused for a minute, wracking my brain trying to think of a time when I’d actually played a video game. “You know what? I have played tennis on Wii before. I totally got tennis elbow, too,” I chuckled.

  He didn’t find it amusing. In fact, the expression on his face was anything but amusing. I held back the laughter that bubbled up my throat and strained my lips to keep the smile from forming.

  This guy was beyond ridiculous.

  “That doesn’t count as a game.”

  Just as he turned to get up from the table, the buzzer went off. I silently celebrated him leaving. Without thought my eyes drifted back to the bar, eyeing Sam as he took care of all the patrons without a second thought. His movements were so natural, and I couldn't help but admire him. Something about him would always pull my attention whether I wanted to admit it or not. Such a shame that he was off the market.

  Pity party, table for one!

  After ninety minutes of dog loving momma’s boys and gamer surfer freaks, and eyeballing the bartender across the room, I was exhausted and cursing Shelly and Sadie.

  Sitting at the bar, Sam slid me another drink. “This one’s on the house. That was devastating to watch,” he laughed.

  I snatched up the drink and sucked it down. “That was so not funny.”

  “From where I was standing, it was hilarious,” he poked fun at me.

  I didn’t blame him. I would have done the same thing if I had watched someone I knew experience what I had.

  “I’m just over being lonely, Sam. It sucks going home to Bailey night after night when I was so used to Bryan being in my bed for almost a decade.”

  Sam nodded in pity. Most people felt bad for me, because the rumor mill still continued to churn with bullshit about Bryan. Except now the blame was being placed on me. What kind of woman was I if I pushed my man into another man’s arms? I was starting to wonder the same thing. Maybe the problem wasn’t Bryan. Maybe the problem was me.

  “I mean, technically he left me for a man. What does that say about me, Sam?” I was slurring, which meant my filter had shriveled away in the alcohol I’d consumed.

  “It doesn’t say anything about you, but it says a lot about him. It’s time to move on, Julia.” He shrugged before making his way down to the other end of the bar to a few waiting customers.

  Sam knew all there was to know about my relationship with Bryan thanks to the many nights of going to Dudley’s after work and loading him down with my drunken chatter. The one thing I could say about Sam is he was a fabulous listener and seemed to have a damn good head on his shoulders. I said it before and I’ll say it again, his wife was one lucky woman.

  Two hours later, after telling Sadie I was perfectly fine to drive home, Sam was holding me up as we walked to my apartment door.

  “Are you sure your apartment is this way,” Sam asked, catching me as I tripped over the sidewalk.

  At that point everything was blurring into one big kaleidoscope of colors and I wasn’t sure if we were even in the right city, much less the right apartment complex. Looking up at Sam through heavy-lidded eyes, I wasn’t about to tell him that though. I was worried the slight frown that was placed on his forehead would swallow his entire face.

  I was only slightly aware that I had yet to answer him, but at the moment I was too busy watching as he strained to keep me from dragging across the pavement. Maybe I should have worried that most of my weight was perched on his shoulders and I had little to no control over the jello that was now my legs or that my breath probably smelled like the inside of a swampy Florida bar, but he didn’t seem to care so I didn’t either.

  Honestly, it was the first situation since I’d started the whole speed dating mess that hadn’t ended in complete terror. Don’t get me wrong, Sam making sure I got home okay wasn’t a date nor was it perfect, but Sam didn’t have me running for my sanity.

  “You still awake, Julia?” he said, pulling me back to the present. When I didn’t answer he added with a mumble. “Or at least alive? Please don’t make me stop to check for a pulse.”

  I couldn’t control the laughter that bubbled up and held me hostage against Sam’s side. “Are you insinuating that I’m heavy, Sam?”

  He smirked. “No ma’am, I’m not.”

  I groaned and rested more comfortably against him. “Please don’t call me ma’am. I’m not that old. Do I look that old? Please don’t tell me I look old.”

  “You don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

  “What about twenty-three? Is that pushing it?”

  “Yes, a little bit.”

  He made a gruff sound as I nudged him in the ribs. “For being three sheets to the wind your right hook is excellent,” he teased.

  “Three sheets to the wind? What does that even mean?”

  The world shifted and I was suddenly going down as my ankle buckled beneath me. Hoping to catch myself before I face planted with the ground, I bent forward at the waist and that’s when I heard it. The loud rip sounded through the night and I silently cursed the air around me.

  Squatting in some screwed up version of downward dog, I ripped off my broken heel, feeling the cool breeze against my ass. This was all in front of Sam who was looking down at me in concern.

  Then his eyes landed on the large rip down the back of my skirt and I saw his concern melt away and replace itself with contained laughter.

  “Nice... panties,” he said, clearing his throat.

  Oh my god! Jumping up and trying to cover my ass proved to be a very bad idea as I fell back against the cold grass.

  “What’s a small woman like you need with all that fabric?” he asked before a loud laugh burst from his lips.

  Heat moved across my face as embarrassment set in. I didn’t even try to fight him off when he began to help me up. His hands were firm and soft against my biceps as he made sure I could stand on my own.

  I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole so I wouldn’t have to face him. Nice panties? How kind he was being when my panties, aka granny panties, had more fabric on them than my skirt, which was now in two pieces in the back.

  We didn’t say anything for a full two minutes and I knew I was eventually going to have to break the uncomfortable ice.

  “If the universe cared for me at all it would let me relive the last five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for.”

  There was a weird vibrating sensation against my back and for a second I thought Sam was having a seizure until I heard his laughter against my ear. I had two options: I could cry, which might happen anyway or I could laugh, too. Since I was still partly intoxicated, I let the laughter flow.

  Lights came on in windows beside us, making us quiet our laughter and whisper. Minutes later we controlled ourselves long enough so Sam could stand me upright. I stood there with my skirt pinched together.

  “Here,” Sam said, pulling off his jacket and holding it up. I went to grab it with my free hand, but he moved. “Let me.”

  He closed the distance between us and put his arms around me to grab the other end of the jacket. Our faces were so close I could smell his cologne and see the hint of a shadow on the lower half of his face. His scent was intoxicating, hell everything about him was intoxicating and for the smallest moment of time I actually forgot about the wedding ring he wore on his left hand.

  He smiled down at me as he moved to pull the sleeves of his jacket together in a knot at my waist. He didn’t seem even a little flustered by how close we were and a pink tint flushed my cheeks at my own reaction. I felt silly for the sudden rapid beating of my heart.

  “There,” he said, taking a step back. “Now only I know about those panties,” he smiled. “It’s probably better that way,” he added with a wink.

  “Thanks.”

  “Now,” he slapped his hands together. “Does any of this look familiar? Are we
going in the right direction?”

  My vision had cleared some and I wasn’t seeing two of everything, but the earth seemed to still be spinning.

  “I think it’s that way,” I pointed.

  He nodded and pulled me against his side again.

  I wanted to protest. I should have told him I could walk on my own, but it felt nice. Sam was a good guy and if he thought this was okay, then it was. However, he might not feel that way if he knew what I was thinking.

  We’d been walking for some time when Sam stopped. “Uh, Julia?”

  “Yeah,” I said, looking up.

  “We’re going in circles.”

  I looked around and realized we in fact were right back where we’d started.

  “I don’t… I’m not…”

  Tonight’s alcohol consumption was taking its toll on me and I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to be conscious.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked when I didn’t finish.

  “I’m getting sleepy.”

  “Don’t fall asleep on me now, sweetheart.”

  The way he called me sweetheart in his southern twang was almost too much.

  “I like the way you say sweetheart,” I mumbled off subject. “Except there’s nothing sweet about me. Men run from me like the plague.”

  Everything got silent, forcing me to look up at him. His eyes were hard, and his plump lips were in an angry line.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s them. They’re the ones with the problem. You’re… I think you’re perfect.”

  The moment felt heated. Or at least I felt heated. He was just being his usual nice self, but everything about the moment felt wrong and oh so right. Quickly, I looked away and changed the subject.

  “1921 Riverside.”

  “What?” he asked, lowering his head.

  Looking back, I let my head roll onto his shoulder. My eyes would no longer stay open and I let them close. “That’s my address.”

  I could have sworn I felt Sam’s fingers against my face, but I was drunk and it was probably just the wind.