“What? You get to take my electronics now? Are you going to limit my screen time?” I raise an eyebrow at him but pull my cell out of my little evening bag.
“No, I’m going to give you my number, smartass,” he chuckles. I unlock the phone and hand it to him, giving him my best ‘fuck around and find out’ expression. It works on my class like a dream, but Matt just seems to think it’s adorable.
He chuckles as he takes my phone. "I'll be good. I promise."
I watch his fingers move over the screen and shut up the runaway train filled with dirty thoughts. I can't explain why his hands are so freaking sexy but the mental image of his hands on my skin... sliding over my hips and up my ribs... And good god, those lips. He bites the inside of his lower lip as he focuses, and it's deeply distracting.
Why do men get the prettiest mouths and eyelashes? It's so unfair. I’m entranced by the way his lashes dust the tops of his cheeks when he looks down like that.
He taps the screen triumphantly and hands my phone back. The caller I.D. reads, "Matt Acevedo" with a winky emoji.
"The wink? That's a little presumptuous, don't you think?" I tease.
"Hey now, if I'm up on my pop culture references, which admittedly might not be my strong suit, I think I could have put much worse."
"Oh, yes! The ever-popular eggplant..." I laugh, hanging up the call and tucking my phone back in my bag.
"But the eggplant is so unoriginal," Matt groans. "Society needs to switch it up. How did the eggplant even get its reputation? Listen, if you're with a man and he's packing anything downtown that looks like a purple cartoon eggplant, run.Something 'aint right." He shakes his head.
"Very sage advice," I laugh. "But if you're looking for creative emojis, I know for a fact there's a pretty healthy-looking baguette in there. "
"Oh, yeah?" Matt's eyebrow quirks.
I nod and bite my lip. "Oh, yeah. My best friend is a baker. I know all the good pastry emojis."
"Very impressive. Teach me your ways, Miss Crawford."
“Is that how you want to spend your date? Getting a lesson on the appropriate use of food emojis? Because the croissant has a couple of uses that I bet you’ve never heard of.”
“As intriguing as that may be, this isn't our date.”
I stare up at him. "Isn't that how it works? I buy you, admittedly, with your own donation, and then I get to do whatever I want with you for the rest of the night." I peer up at him and bat my lashes dramatically. Matt runs a hand over his jaw, and he does that thing where he looks me over like I'm a treat he could devour whole. The hunger in his eyes sends a shiver up my spine and heat twisting in my abdomen.
"And what did you want to do with me?" he asks slyly.
"I haven't really had time to come up with a plan," I counter. And while that's entirely true, my mind is racing with possibilities. And that’s exactly why I already know I need a buffer. If I’m alone with this man for more than two minutes, I’m pretty sure he could talk me right out of my panties.
“Cheers,” Olive says cheerfully as she knocks her beer against mine.
“I didn’t bring you here to celebrate,” I remind her, taking a sip from my lager. “I need you to put that big-ass brain of yours to work.”
“So you thought you should ply me with alcohol?” Olive laughs, looking up at a bar tv. There’s a baseball game on and that just ratchets my anger up another notch. “I’m pretty sure beer never made good decisions.”
“No,Ineeded a drink while we figure this out or I’m going to scream and rip my hair out.”
Olive turns on her stool, examining me like I’ve sprouted an extra head. “Damn, girl. Okay. What’s up?”
“The school board needs to be recalled. Like every last one of them. Last night, they slashed the budget. They ripped out programs that weren’t even costing the district a thing. It was completely unnecessary! Like, Mr. Acevedo’s one check covered all the technology on the district’s wish list. They aren’t in dire straits anymore. There was no need for it.”
“Mr. Acevedo? You mean Matt?” She over-enunciates his name and shimmies her shoulders. “When’s your date?”
“No. I mean Mr. Acevedo. And I haven’t scheduled anything yet.”
“Chicken,” Olive sighs.
“Hush, you’re failing the Bechdel Test right now. The school board cut funding for school clubs, including my spelling bee team. The chairwomen made a specific point of telling me the funds for the team field trip were being reallocated.”
“Ah… your arch nemesis. What did you do to her this time?”