Nine First Dates

by Jennifer Ryder

  “I really like you, Abbie.”

  I press a soft kiss to his lips, words failing me.

  He pulls back and moves his mouth to my ear. “That mouth is gonna feature in my dreams for some time.”

  Smooth. “Oh yeah?”

  He nods. “Hmm. You taste so sweet.”

  Purse in one hand, drink in the other, suddenly I feel so awkward.

  “Come on, Abbie. Let’s go somewhere a little more private.”

  Giddy, I sip at my drink as he guides me towards the bathrooms, his hand again pressed to my lower back. We set our drinks down on a nearby table and step onto the side of the dancefloor beneath a large palm tree.

  Austin wraps his arms around my waist. His movements coax me to sway.

  “I wanna taste you,” he says and smooths his hands over the curve of my arse. Is he saying what I think he is?

  Not knowing what to say, I continue to move. His mouth finds mine again.

  The feeling of his tongue, our bodies moving in time, has heat and want building between my legs.

  “I bet you’re wet,” he says in my ear as his fingers move forward and scratch at my hip.

  Mate, you have no idea what’s going on inside the sweaty contraption I’m wearing underneath this.

  I plant my feet and put both my hands into his. It’s more to stop his hands from wandering. “Austin, I think we should take it slow.”

  He smirks. “You wanna know what I think, sexy?”

  I sigh. “Sure.”

  “Chemistry is key in any relationship. Would you agree?”

  I nod. “Of course.”

  He removes his hands from mine and places them on my shoulders. “I’m going to be honest with you. Life is short. I think the real test of our chemistry will be by having sex.”

  I cough. “Um, excuse me?”

  He shrugs. “What? Why dance around it? We’re both adults.”

  I straighten my spine. “I barely know you.”

  He raises one eyebrow and smirks. “It’s a great way to get to know someone.”

  I won’t be bullied into this.

  “Listen,” he says in a gentler tone. “Some people date on and off for weeks, and when they finally decide to take it further, they discover they have zero compatibility in the sack. I’m sure you don’t want that in a relationship.”

  He keeps saying ‘relationship’ like that’s what he’s really here for. I call bullshit.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he says and sweeps his hands down to my waist where he gives the flesh a soft squeeze.

  I narrow my eyes at him. Please, tell me what’s going on inside my head. “You do, huh?”

  “You’ll worry what people will think of you if you come home with me on the first date. And you shouldn’t because you’re a strong-willed, intelligent woman. Who cares what society thinks? You get to decide what you do with that curvylicious body of yours.”

  “Yes, I do get to decide,” I say in a stern tone.

  “Exactly! If you wanna indulge in a night of pure pleasure, that’s your prerogative. Besides, you deserve it.”

  Is he kidding me with this? “Oh, I deserve it, do I?”

  He moves his arms to wrap around my shoulders and looks at me with a fierce determination. “There’s just one thing you should know.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “I don’t use condoms.”

  I grind my teeth in my jaw and silently pray for my dentist’s forgiveness. He doesn’t take sexually transmitted diseases seriously? What about contraceptives? “No?”

  He rocks back on the heels of his shoes. “No. To be honest,” he says, and places his hand over his heart, “that’s more about your pleasure than mine. Sex is all about sensation, feeling each other. Anything that dulls the senses is bad news.”

  I reach for my drink, scull it, and scoop up my purse. My eyes drill him with a look of disgust. “Okay, so I think we’re done here.”

  What a disaster.

  Will’s voice rings in my ears. He can’t know about this.

  He nods and tugs at the neck of his shirt. “My apartment is a five-minute walk from here.”

  Oh, Austin. I’m going to have to spell it out, aren’t I?

  My phone vibrates in my bag. Saved. “Sorry, I have to check this.”

  Chanti: Get out of there. I’ll fill you in later.

  Wow. Big red flag. If my girl Chanti is telling me to run, it’s for good reason.

  I glance farther down my messages. There’s one from Austin from over an hour ago. Huh?

  I open it.

  Austin: Prepare yourself for a good, hard fuck tomorrow. My cock has been aching for you all day.

  Attached is an image of a long, thin … oh God. He sent me a dick pic?

  Clearly this message isn’t for me.

  “Unbelievable,” I say and laugh out loud. I turn the phone towards him. “Did you mean to send this to me?”

  He squints and moves his face closer to the screen. His jaw drops. “Just a joke, babe.”

  You’re a joke.

  “Yeah, well I’m not laughing.”

  I stride towards the exit and make my getaway.

  As much as I want to, I don’t scream nearly as ferociously into my pillow tonight. Only because I don’t want Will to hear me. As much as I love him, I can’t stand it when he does the whole “I told ya, sis” routine.

  Chapter Four – SETH

  Late February

  It’s been a fortnight since my date with Sleazy McSleaze-a-lot. Seth and I have been chatting on Tinder for the last week.

  After the disaster that was Austin, I’ve made it super clear to Seth that I’m not out for a booty call. He still wants to meet up.

  I’m a bundle of nerves about this date. I should’ve known with a name like Seth that he’d be into something out there, like motocross or extreme sports. He comes across as a bit of a tough guy, but I like that about him. He has grit, and the idea of a manly man does naughty things to me.

  For our first date, we’ll be putting on camo gear.

  Paintball.

  I’ve never tried it before, but I’m super keen. I’ll give anything a go, and like they say, life begins at the end of your comfort zone. I have no idea how to shoot anything other than a Nerf gun, so it should be interesting. I probably should have done some research before I came out here, but I guess it’s all a part of the experience.

  When I arrive at Paintball Sports, I park my car and approach a guy standing on his own. He’s maybe six-foot tall and just like in his profile pic, has dark brows to be jealous of and a narrow face.

  I walk closer, waving to get his attention.

  He looks me up and down and then nods. “Abbie?”

  “That’s me. Seth?”

  “Yup.” Sunlight glints off his silver eyebrow piercing.

  When we stand toe to toe, I hold out my hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  He stares at my hand for a beat before shaking it. “You too. Keen to get into it?”

  “Yes.”

  He turns and points to his right. “Sick. It’s this way.”

  We stroll together until we reach the main door. “Thought we could go for a beer and a pub feed for lunch after if you want?” he says.

  I love a good pub meal, especially chicken parma. “Sounds good.”

  A young guy with a crew cut and a polo shirt with the company branding greets us at the counter.

  “This is Jeremy,” Seth says. “He’s a mate of mine.”

  I smile at Jeremy. “Hi, I’m Abbie.”

  “Hey, good to meet you. You know what you’re in for here?”

  A nervous laugh bubbles up my throat. “Um, not really.”

  Seth leans his elbow on the counter and slouches. “I’ve booked a private session, so it’s just gonna be you and me on the battlefield. Gonna be sick.” He winks.

  Butterflies swarm in my stomach. I swallow. You got this. “Cool,” I say, trying to portray a sense of calm.

  Je
remy provides us with upper-body armour and camouflage combat suits. “Always use this,” he says as he hands me a face mask.

  “I’ve got my own mask, dude,” Seth says to him.

  “Cool, man. Sorry,” Jeremy says. He hands us each a red paintball gun, which looks like a pump-action shotgun. “You get a hundred pre-packed shots each, so use them wisely.”

  “Okay,” I say and nod. Does this mean potentially I could get shot that many times? Damn. I’m gonna need to be smart about using the obstacles.

  Jeremy slaps his hands down on the counter. “Just remember, headshots don’t count, so conserve your paint.”

  “You know you don’t need to tell me that,” Seth says and chuckles. He smiles at me, revealing a chipped tooth up top.

  Jeremy rolls his eyes. “Gotta tell you anyway.”

  Seth tugs a black fabric tube over his head and pulls it up to cover his mouth. The material has crazy silver skeleton teeth printed on it. The teeth sit in front of his mouth making him look like the joker from The Suicide Squad.

  Oh, Jared.

  The wind kicks up the dust as we stride onto the battlefield known as the ‘Storage Depot’.

  My heart pumps harder and my palms become slick with sweat.

  Seth bumps his shoulder against mine. “Don’t hold back, yeah?”

  Show no fear.

  I’ve got two older brothers. Will and Daniel always pushed me to stand up for myself. I may be shit-scared, but I won’t hold back. Every bone in my body is competitive. “No way. Let’s see who’s covered in paint by the end of this.”

  He shakes his head and rolls his shoulders back in circles as if he’s warming up the muscles. “Game on.”

  I laugh. “Game on.”

  He turns around and faces the office. “I’ll give you a thirty-second head start.”

  Before he changes his mind, I snatch up the opportunity. I run as fast as my legs can carry me.

  “Ten will do,” I yell out, just before I take cover behind a row of rusted forty-four-gallon drums stacked in a triangle.

  Once I get over the initial panic, this might actually be fun.

  ***

  The ting-ting of bullets penetrates my ears like a bad techno song that won’t quit. I cower every time they connect with the trees or shelter protecting me. I’m not far off curling up into a ball and rocking back and forth until this is over.

  Every inch of me hurts. Seth has been relentless.

  I’ll give him credit. He’s definitely good at this, but he’s not doing himself any favours on the dating front.

  Love has no place on a paintball battlefield—certainly not where this guy is concerned.

  There’s no way on earth he left the office with one hundred shots. He went back for more.

  A quiet overcomes the field as the ting-ting ceases.

  I wait. And wait.

  Nothing.

  Is he finally out of bullets?

  I slowly pop my head out from behind the cover, looking for any sign of him.

  I scan left.

  Nothing.

  Then right.

  Nada.

  Then—

  A pellet strikes me fair in the throat. “Gah!” I gasp for breath and drop my weapon, crouch down low, and sweep my hand over the site of impact. It burns as if I’ve been jabbed with a red-hot poker.

  Was he aiming for my head, or whatever he could get?

  Seconds later, a large shadow looms over me.

  When my eyes adjust to the shade, crazy skeleton teeth appear.

  I hold up my hand in a protective move. Words won’t come out of my mouth. I’m in shock. If only I had the strength to wring his neck. You don’t need words for that.

  “I guess my last hit was the money shot,” he says and snorts.

  I lower my hand and sit back on my bottom. Don’t cry. It’s over. You can call this date quits and watch Netflix in bed for the foreseeable future.

  Seth points the gun towards the middle of my chest. The trigger clicks. A pellet hits the centre of the armour. Air is forced from my mouth.

  “Guess that was my last hit,” he says and shrugs.

  Mother-effer.

  “Seth,” a male voice barks in the distance.

  He turns on his heel and removes his mask. “What?” he yells, eyes on the office.

  Jeremy comes into view. “You’re done, man. Next booking is here.”

  “Righto,” Seth calls out and walks off, leaving me sitting in the dirt, contemplating the idea of grievous bodily harm. I may not have much strength left, but I have no doubt I could conjure it up.

  After dusting myself off, I hobble inside. A clean suit is folded on the counter. Seth is back in his clothes from earlier. He looks at his watch and back at me. “The pub stops serving lunch at two, so we’d better get moving.”

  I close my eyes for a beat and focus on my breathing as I take off my suit and armour. I clench my jaw as I tell myself the pain radiating through me is all in my head.

  Go to your happy place, Abbie.

  Take me home, Jared.

  Jeremy scans over my paint-splattered suit and gives me a soft smile. “Oh, man,” he says.

  “What?” Seth runs his hand back over his dark hair. “I don’t play to lose, Jay. I’m no pussy.”

  Jeremy shakes his head and muffles something about having a lot to learn.

  I don’t exactly know what he said, but I agree. This kind of play might be acceptable with his mates, but if you’re looking for love, Joker, a woman is not going to run into your arms after behaviour like that.

  “Like, did you even get one hit?” Seth says as we walk into the car park.

  I can’t even answer, because, I could very well commit the previously fantasised grievous bodily harm if I do.

  “Oh, shit,” he says, and lets out a hearty laugh. “You should’ve seen the look on your face when I let off that last shot. You dead set looked like you wanted to murder me.”

  My teeth clench. I turn to him, stone-faced. “Hmm, anything like now?”

  He laughs. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”

  I shake my head. I believe that how you make others feel about themselves says a lot about you. I have never been treated with such disrespect before, and that says a lot about Seth. He won’t get the opportunity to make me feel this way again.

  “Hey, you could’ve surrendered, you know.”

  If he knew anything about me, he’d know that wasn’t an option. Besides, I get the vibe that it wouldn’t have made a difference with this guy. “Yeah, well you could’ve decided not to be an arsehole, you know.”

  “Oooh,” he teases. “Hey, now. It’s just a game.”

  Yes, Joker. That’s all it is, and all that’ll ever be between us.

  I make a beeline for my car.

  He runs a few steps in front of me and then turns and walks backwards, eyes on me. “Come on. Let’s go to the pub. We can chat about it over a beer and a schnitty.”

  I fist my hands at my sides. “I don’t think so.”

  I need a drink, but the last person I want to do that with is you. I don’t need to relive the horrendous last thirty minutes of my life.

  My foot catches on the bitumen. I lurch forward. Seth stops and leans forward, arms out.

  Catch me.

  My nose connects with his forehead. Stars prickle my vision as pain radiates from the centre of my face.

  My knees bite into the ground.

  “Shit,” Seth curses as his arm tangles beneath me.

  My nose trickles. Bright red specks appear on Seth’s blue T-shirt, darkening in colour as they concentrate in a patch.

  A look of horror washes over Seth’s face. “Fuck. Your nose.”

  He helps me to my feet.

  My head spins. Blood dots my shoes and the ground.

  What just happened?

  Seth helps me to a bench seat near the entrance. I sit and dust off my leggings, which are torn on one knee.

  He mumbles something
to do with his shirt and runs inside.

  I rest my elbows on my thighs and separate my feet as blood continues to flow. Could this date get any worse?

  A handful of tissues is thrust into my vision. “Here,” he grunts. Seth sits beside me.

  I hold the tissues to my nose and whine as the pain compounds. I can barely touch it.

  “Does it look bad?” I sniff back. One nostril is completely blocked. My right eye feels like it’s starting to swell.

  “Ah, yeah. I think it’s broken.”

  “Broken?” I squeak.

  This douchebag broke my nose?

  “Just lean back,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “I’ve had a nose broken before with footy. I know how to fix it.” He grips my nose at the bridge with his thumb and pointer finger.

  “What are you—”

  He twists.

  A cry belts from my mouth as pain shoots up into my skull.

  I slap him away with both hands. “Fork me! What did you do?”

  “Oh,” he says, his eyes fixed on my face.

  “What?”

  “Um, that didn’t exactly work.”

  I stand and grill him with a look of pure disgust. I walk over to the nearest car and look at my face in a side mirror.

  Dear god, I’m hideous. The centre of my nose is bent—like a freakin’ banana. My right eye has started to swell. Blood has congealed around my nose and over my cheeks. I look like Mike Tyson threw a couple of left jabs at me.

  I storm back over to him. It takes all of my power to hold back and refrain from kicking the prick in the shins. “Take me to the hospital. Now.” He needs to fix this and I’m in no condition to drive.

  “Serious?”

  “Yes,” I bark out.

  He holds up his hands. “Fine, just don’t get any blood on my car seat.”

  Is he fair dinkum?

  I should stick my finger right up my nose and make it bleed some more.

  ***

  For the last hour, Seth has done nothing but bitch and moan.

  It’d be justified if he was the one with the broken schnoz waiting for medical treatment, but he’s not.

  If he keeps up the ‘I’m hungry’ charade, and the ‘I’m watching my macros so I can’t eat the shit from the vending machines’ carry-on, I swear on my father’s grave there will be another broken nose in this waiting area.