“It’s all good. Nothing a towel can’t clean up.” Wait, he’s calling for information about our second date. How is that even going to happen when we are states apart? Last time I checked when we need to be in the same vicinity to go on one. “You were saying something about the second date? You realize we aren’t in the same area, right? Unless you somehow found out where I live and you’re stalking me. Which, by the way, is kind of creepy.”
He laughs, and I can’t help the way my body tingles when I hear the sound. It’s deep and full of life. When’s the last time I laughed like that? With complete abandon? Oh yeah, on our first date. He seems to bring out another side of me. “No, I’m not stalking you. Though, if I knew the area you were in, this would be a lot easier.”
“Yeah, probably.” I grab a towel from the shelf and wipe off my foot before heading back into the bedroom to mop up the rest of the mess.
“So, are you going to tell me?” His voice doesn’t hold any frustration. “I can always FaceTime you and try to figure it out.”
I glance down at the threadbare t-shirt I’m wearing with bleach spots all over it after a laundry incident. My hands go up to my hair, and I can feel the tangles as I try to run my fingers through it. “That’s going to be a negative. On the video call, not the other part. I live in Missouri.”
“Hm.” That’s his only response.
“What does that mean?” That makes me a little self-conscious. I’m not from here, but I didn’t think it was a horrible place to live.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just not where I pictured you’d be living.”
“Where did you think I live?” I’m kind of offended. Does my accent give off a certain vibe? I’ve tried to mask the small country sound I carried over after I left Wyoming.
“I don’t know, somewhere over on the west coast.” He pauses for a second. “You know you’re only like two states away from me.”
“I’m aware of that,” I nod my head even though he can’t see me. “But that doesn’t solve the problem of the date.”
“I told you I can get creative.”
I throw the towel in the hamper beside my nightstand and lie back down on my bed. I yawn and cover my mouth, hoping he doesn’t hear. “How does this creativity fit in?”
I hear a door open and close on his end of the phone. Is he home, or did he just walk out of the gym? This is the problem with long-distance dating. You don’t know what the other person is doing, and you can’t physically see them. I mean, I guess you can with video calling, but it’s not the same.
“Well, I figure we grab food from the same burger place and watch a movie on Netflix while FaceTiming.”
A burger does sound good. “Wait, I thought you said you eat healthy during the season.”
“Normally, yes. A date, though…that calls for a cheat day. I’ll just push harder at the gym tomorrow.”
“We’re doing it tonight?” My voice is high, and a jolt of panic rushes through me. My hair is a mess and my face is horrible.
“You don’t have to get all dolled up,” he says. “It’s a simple movie night. If we were in the same place, I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t dress up. I don’t need all the glitz and glam. I’m actually a simple guy, despite what they portrayed in the media.”
Does he know I looked him up? It’s a natural assumption. I don’t know anyone who goes on random dates without checking out the person’s social media. You have to make sure you aren’t dating a sociopath. “Okay,” I drawl. “What burger place are we getting food from?”
“Whataburger, naturally.” He’s so confident in his answer, but…
“What is that?”
“Please tell me you’re joking.” He actually sounds pained that I have no clue what he’s talking about. “They have some of the best burgers and amazing ketchup.”
I wince, “Sorry, we don’t have those here.”
“Fine,” he whines. “I guess any burger place will do. Just know the next time you’re in Texas, we are going to Whataburger. You’ll be ruined for all future burger joints.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Staring at my ceiling, I mentally go through the list of everything I need to get done while I’m home. So much has to be crammed into such a short amount of time, and if I want to get any of it accomplished before this date, I need to get off the phone. “Hey, Bentley?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I talk to you later? Since I’m awake now, I need to get some errands done before tonight. Just text me what time you want to do this thing.” It’s been four days since I’ve talked to him, and while I think I could talk to him for hours, I can’t. Adulting has to take precedence sometimes.
“Sure. I’ll text you later.” I’m about to hang up, but he speaks again. “I hope your day gets better and doesn’t include any more water spills.”
“Bye, Bentley,” I smile and press the end icon.