Business Meeting

Holy shit.  Holy shit.  HOLY FUCKING SHIT!

I’m trying my best to look calm and collected but seeing as I have never been put in such a situation, I’m in a slight panic.  I’ve never had a boy take me back to ‘their’ place.  How does one act?  What does one do?  Well… aside from the obvious but I’m not even sure if I’m even ready for the obvious.  Fuck. 

“Can I get you a drink?” he calls from around the corner in his kitchen.

“Water please.”

Part of me wants more alcohol to help me relax but then I act slutty, which may not necessarily be a bad thing but I decide right now it’s important to keep my wits about me.  I appreciate that he didn’t harp on me about not having a stronger beverage.  Nice guy.

I comment that his place is very ‘manly’.  Spacious with lots of dark browns, the walls are dotted with images of cityscapes.  New York City in particular.  For sure no woman has had a hand in decorating this place.  

He mentioned on the walk over that he had a jukebox.  Interesting.  I hobble over to take a closer look at it.  I hear clinking ice against glass behind me and turn around.  He hands me my water.  Icy cold against my sweaty hand, I immediately bring the glass to my mouth and nurse it.  The water smarts my lower lip, raw from chewing.

“Do you want to listen to something?” He asks before he sips his drink and steps close enough to me that his fingers tickle my left hand.  Holy shivers!  I smile, giggle and nod all the while; my glass is pressed to my lips taking tiny sips of the icy water.  I pull the cup away from my mouth and watch him as he turns the jukebox on and finds a song. 

I’m not familiar with the tune but am amused that he sings a few lines out loud to me.  He’s so close that I wonder if he can hear how fast my heart is racing.  I’m crunching on a piece of ice and I’m looking at his mouth.  He moves even closer that my chest ever so lightly presses against his.  I look up at him through my lashes and I giggle nervously.  I can tell he knows what I want. 

Kiss.  Me.  Please.

His kiss was slow but chaste.  Mr. Tuesday picked up that I was nervous.  Shit.  I should have never told him my stupid quirk.  He pulls back, his eyes search mine for approval.  I take a quick sip of my water and without hesitation I place my parted mouth back on his.  I made it clear the type of kiss I wanted, full and deep.  My tongue was cold from the sip of water I just had and it was an exquisite torture to have the heat from his dissipate the chill in mine.

FUCK YEAH! With being assertive, and FUCK ME! That was a good kiss!  I’m leaning more towards wanting the ‘obvious’ to happen now.

He takes my drink and I follow him towards the couch.  I’m feeling all weird, tingly and now I know some ‘business’ is going to happen on that couch.  Will there be a merger, a small acquisition or a quick meeting?  I don’t know…I don’t know.  I start to panic again.  I then realize that since I’ve been with him he has kept his hands to himself.  Only touching me when I touched him.  He was the complete opposite of Rico Suave but actually handsome.  He’s a nice guy.  Perfect gentleman so far. 

He places our drinks on the coffee table and sits down.  I follow and think I need a little liquid courage.

“May I have a sip of your drink?”

“Help yourself.”

I take a swig and realize it’s one of the drinks I despise from my days out clubbing ‘till you puke.  I try my best to hide my disdain and I hear my phone buzzing like a time tomb in my purse.

“Sorry. I have to check my phone.  Everyone knows I’m out tonight and they just want to check in on me.” I say as I chase down the drink with the rest of my water.

“No…no…of course.  Check your phone.  Tell them where you are by all means.  It’s good that you’re checking in.”

This guy is a scoring points left, right and centre with me right now.  So fucking nice.

I check my phone and I have text messages waiting to be read.

JENN:

Are u ok….we went back and u weren’t there…OMFG…R U OK…GIVE ME A SIGN…SERIOUSLY…Are you making out????

CARRIE:

Sooooooo???....Oooooohhhhhh…ok be safe…did you kiss him???

HOLLY:

Don’t do anything you don’t want to or that I wouldn’t do…LOL.  Enjoy!!!!!  XO

LEILANI:

Yo!  You still out?  How’s it going??  Spill the beans!!!!!

PIPER:

Woo!  Hoo!  How’s it going?...Only do what you want to do and nothing more!!!  ;P

SASH:

Sooooo….I’m dying to know how it’s going.  Don’t stay up too late!

Honestly.  I really am lucky to have these great bitches as friends.  

I send them all texts to let them know I’m back at his place.  What a mistake.  This only caused an immediate second wave of texts and emoticons which I ignored.  I figure I’ll get back to them later once my ‘business meeting’ on the couch was over.  I also thought there was only so much I could do to stall and collect myself from my nerves.  I shut my phone off and bury myself in the couch pillows.

“Everything okay?  Can I get you anything else?”  He squeezes my left hand in his.

“More water please.” I squeak out.

I knew EXACTLY what was going happen when he sat back down here.  Holy fuck. I did my best to take in a few deep breaths without him noticing and smiled politely when he came back with my water.  I took the glass and downed the whole thing in one shot. 

He asks me to come closer so I could lean against his chest.  Oh no.  He’s for sure gonna feel how fast my heart is beating.  I oblige and he wraps his arm around me and I rest my head on his chest.  His smell is intoxicating and I close my eyes when he speaks in his perfect baritone.  We talk about music as we’re listening to it and he belts out a few more lines from another song I don’t know.  I lift my head to look at him in amusement. 

Our eyes connect and like magnets our mouths meet.  We kissed so deep I felt it in the pit of my stomach.  I bit his lower lip when I felt his hands in my hair.  He tugged just a little and I think I moaned into his mouth as his tongue danced against mine. O-M-G!!  My body was humming. Everything felt so good.  He kissed his way down to the hollow of my neck to my collarbone.  I felt my nipples straining against my bra.  I was aching for him to touch and kiss me there.  He nibbled his way back to my mouth and pecked my lips once, twice, three times before he pulled away.

“You okay?  Am I going too fast?” He whispered low in my ear, his nose nuzzling my neck before looking at me.

I crinkled my nose at him, bit my lower lip and nodded that I was fine.  My mind was going berserk with all the things I wanted to do to him.  What I wanted him to do to me!  Then I remembered this was only a first date and I’m pretty sure the ONLY date I’ll have with this guy.  Dudes like him don’t go out with the same girl twice.

We talked about dating and he said that he liked me too much to sleep with me tonight.  BOLD.  I told him that I’m a lot harder to get then he thinks.  He joked that he would have me by the second date between dinner and dessert.  I laughed out loud.  YEAH RIGHT BUDDY! 

“Seriously.  We don’t work out…I want to be friends with you.  You’re interesting.”

“Sure.” 

Friends with benefits I’m sure, I thought to myself.  Not that I had a problem with it.  I did want to sow my wild oats after all.   I wasn’t sure how sincere he was in that statement, but at least he put it out there and it was nice gesture.

We stare at each other for just a beat.

Fuck it.  I told myself.

I decide to be bold and kiss him first.  Hard and with purpose and move this ‘business meeting’ on the couch to an ‘acquisition’ and I let my hand wander towards his belt…

Baptism By Fire Part One

He wants to meet me.  Fuck.

Part of me was preparing for that and the other part of me was hoping to God that he would never suggest such a thing.  Ever.  We could literally JUST date online. 

I told him ‘perhaps’ to the date as I may have a photo shoot (My roots are in photography) on the Saturday he wants to go out.  I would let him know by late Friday evening if it was a go.  This of course was all pure bullshit.  A believable excuse just in case I pussy out without making me look bad.

The rest of the week continued with even more flirtatious texts between us and I even got crazy and used emoticons.  I know I was really pushing the envelope.  By mid-week I felt the anxiety slowly creep its way in.  I needed to call in the troops.  I needed my most bestest lady friends for advice.

Carrie who lives in my neighborhood and is as fanatical about shoes as her Sex in the City namesake and just as pretty (bitch), is the first to see me and debate the issue of going on the date.  “What are you worried about?” She asks me.  I explain that I am SUPER self-conscious about the way I look.   I don’t want him to see me and be totally disappointed.  She rolled her eyes at me, irritated.  Carrie pointed out that he contacted me first.

The next 48 hours brought two more girlfriends over.  Sash my profile proofreader and Holly.  Like Sash, Holly found love online.  They try to ease my ever-growing doubt and anxiety.  Both only reiterated what Carrie said.  “You have nothing to lose and it will be a great learning experience.”  Holly was super hardcore about safety.  She suggested that I let as many people know about my date and use Facebook to check-in.  Smart.  Safety-first, as always.  She also wanted to remind me that I should try and have fun and that I’ll know within the first 10 minutes if he’s a stage-five clinger. 

I let Rico Suave know late Friday that I was able to go out Saturday.  So began my restless and anxiety driven sleep that ensued.  The morning brought a phone call from my oldest friend Leilani giving me a pep talk.  “Wear something that you know makes you look hot even though today you will feel like everything you try on doesn’t.  Take it as a learning experience and you’ll be fine.”  I thanked her and then not even 2 minutes later Sash texts me, “You’re beautiful and amazing.  He’s lucky you agreed to date him.”  I honestly don’t know what I would do without my best bitches around.

By the time 3pm rolled around I was a fucking mess.  My chest felt tight like I couldn’t breathe and I actually vomited bile.  I couldn’t eat and I had a horrific headache.  Carrie texted me to see how I was doing and I let her know that I was a complete wreck.  She forced me to head out with her and her daughter to decompress and run mindless errands to take my mind off how nervous I was.  She could tell that I was not in good shape the minute I got into her car.  “Breathe.”  She told me.  Easier said then done, I thought to myself.  The hour that I was out with Carrie and her daughter was a total blur.  I felt nauseous.  I just wanted to lie down or vomit.  “Breathe.  I can tell that you’re not breathing.” Carrie says to me, concerned.  “What do you have to be nervous about?”  I explain that I am totally freaking about the fact the he will not like me when he sees me in person.  I don’t want him to see me hobble in my crutches.  I will have nothing to say to him.  I don’t really know how to act.  That I’m debating on wearing a long dress, that is not as cute as the short one I want to wear, just so that it wouldn’t be so shocking to see me disabled.  Oh and the list goes on.

“He contacted you first and is FULLY aware of your situation and you have been texting so why wouldn’t he like you?  Take a Tylenol for the headache, have a snack and a drink to take the edge off.  Do you want me to come over to help you decide what to wear?” She asks.

“No.”  I just want to be alone and cry I think.

By the time Carrie drops me off at home to start getting ready for my date, I feel like I want to pass out.  She offers to drive me to the restaurant and have a quick drink with me at the bar beforehand.  I feel a teeny tiny sense of relief and accept her offer.  I vomit as soon as I walk in the door. I crawl into the shower and pray to God it helps to wash some of my nerves away or at least stop me from shaking uncontrollably.

I wear a white spaghetti strap knee length A-line summer dress with a sheer patterned overlay in the same colour, with an oak coloured cardigan and belt.  My shoe is an open-toed cage lace-up sandal.  I wear my favourite pair of oversized gold earrings and I’ve left my hair down, gave myself a smoky-eye and glossed my lips sheer.  It’s the best I could do and I still feel inadequate and ugly.

Carrie picks me up and grins madly in approval then notices the utter fear and anxiety in my face.

“BREATHE!” she says as she shakes my shoulders.

I am lightheaded when we arrive at the restaurant.  We find a booth at the bar and I am a giant ball of nerves.  We order sangrias and I’m shaking as I bring the beverage to my mouth.  Carrie then suggests that I should have a ‘back-up’ plan should the date die by the wayside.  She calls our server over and writes down a cell phone number on a napkin and tells the server that if I order a white wine sangria that he is to call her ASAP and she will come to my rescue and whisk me away.  She then says, “You’re lucky that I like you because I feel like an idiot giving the server my phone number.  He probably thinks I’m trying to pick him up!!”  We belly laugh, then she sucks back her drink, hugs the shit out of me and wishes me luck before I almost tearfully see her exit.

I am on my phone texting everyone I know that I’m at the restaurant waiting for him and trying to find ways to distract myself from dry-heaving right then and there.

Rico Suave texts me:

I’m here.  What are you wearing?

Shit. Here goes nothing…