Her arms cross in front of her and it’s clear she’s not about to answer my questions. I voluntarily change the subject.
“Do you ever make red velvet cupcakes?” I ask. I don’t even know what the hell those are, but I heard my brother’s girlfriend talk about them the other day at Sunday dinner.
“I have,” she says, obviously confused. “I make them sometimes for the Senior Center.”
“The nursing home over by the church?”
“Yeah. Long story, but I knew a girl who worked there. She would tell stories about some of the residents and how they didn’t have family and it broke my heart. So I bake for them sometimes.” A small smile slips across her face. “There’s this old man there. They call him The Mayor, but I’m not sure he ever was the mayor,” she laughs. “Anyway, Red Velvet is his favorite. I make sure there’s some in every batch I deliver.”
There’s something different about her, a gentleness I don’t see often. She’s usually raring to go with me, a sharp tongue ready and waiting.
“Lance?”
“Sorry,” I say, clearing my throat. “That sounds like a nice thing to do.”
“It gives me purpose.” She no sooner than finishes the sentence before she sticks a finger my way. “Don’t even.”
“Don’t even what?” I laugh.
“Don’t make fun of me for saying that.”
“I …” Cocking my head to the side, I reconsider. “We all need a purpose. We just get them from different places. You get yours from cake … well, I kind of get mine from your cake too.”
Rolling her eyes, she pops open the driver’s door. “Big plans tonight?” she asks, changing the subject.
I want to back up to a few moments ago. To the moment where she looked a little vulnerable, like she was almost ready to tell me something real about herself, but I let it go. No sense in playing in a sandbox when I have no intention of staying there.
“I’m going to give some excellent aural in a minute,” I tease, “then possibly some oral, depending on how it goes.”
“I can’t with you,” she laughs.
“You can. There’s a standing invitation. Have I not made that clear?”
Her laughter grows. “You have. Thank you.”
“And …” I coax.
“And …” She mocks. “And what?”
“And you are taking me up on that when?”
“Good night, Mr. Gibson.”
It’s totally unprofessional of me to watch the hemline of her dress ride up her thigh as she gets into the seat. It’s even more unprofessional to look at her and wink when she catches me in action, but hell—that’s nothing compared to the vision of her naked in the backseat of the car that I’m imagining right now.
“You’re a cad.” The engine fires but her door stays open.
“You love it.”
“I have no idea why you’d think that.”
“You’ve trained me, remember?”
“I’ll have to work on reprogramming you.” Before I can respond, she pulls out of the parking lot with a coy little smile.
With the wind at my back, and her flowery perfume still lingering in the air, I watch her pull away. There’s a weird-ass feeling I get around her that I kind of both hate and love. It’s a complete raging hard-on coupled with a comfort level I’ve never had with a woman in-person before. Probably because she’s the first woman who’s given me blue balls on a regular basis that I’ve not fucked.
That’s the part I hate: I haven’t fucked her.
Then again, that’s kind of the part I love: I haven’t fucked her.
So weird.
A vibration in my pocket shakes me out of my thoughts, and I pull my phone out to see a message from my dating app. My stomach churns.
Glancing up as the taillights of Mariah’s car takes the corner towards Goodman’s Gas Station, I almost feel … guilty.
Stop it. Fucking is freeing. Clear. Uncomplicated. Don’t be dumb.
Her message pings again.
Nerdy Nurse: I’m a little flu-ish tonight. Happy to chat later but can’t meet up.
Me: I think you’re suffering from a lack of Vitamin Me.
Laughing as I type out the line, the acid in my gut evaporates and everything feels normal again.
Nerdy Nurse: Every. Time.
Me: You’d think you’d expect it by now. We’ve been exchanging these messages for how long?
Nerdy Nurse: You sent your first dick pic two months ago.
Me: It wasn’t my dick.
Nerdy Nurse: Those weren’t my legs either.
Me: Such a letdown.
Climbing into my car, I get situated as her text bubble bounces on the bottom of the app.
Nerdy Nurse: Is that a deal breaker?
Me: We have a deal?
Nerdy Nurse: Two months and we haven’t managed to meet up yet …
Me: That’s why I like nurses. You’re busy. You can’t be too attached. ;)
Nerdy Nurse: We’re also well-versed in needles and serums. ;)
A quick glance up has me looking into the window of Principal Kelly’s car. She gives me a dainty wave full of unspoken innuendo. I return her a two-finger salute before dropping my attention back on my conversation.