Page 84 of Dirty Pucker

Before falling asleep, I texted Del that I wasn’t feeling well and that I’d have to cancel dinner tonight. The hot night in bed I’ve been anticipating ever since we got back from Las Vegas yesterday will have to wait.

God, I hate my body sometimes.

The doorbell goes again. I sigh and stand up to answer it.

When I open the door of my condo and see Del standing there, I’m surprised.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I thought we were getting dinner tonight.”

“Oh…didn’t you get my text?”

He shakes his head. Confused, I walk back over to the couch and grab my phone. I pull up my text conversation with Del. I see that I drafted the text but never sent it.

I turn back to Del and hold up my phone to show him. “I was so out of it earlier that I forgot to send you the text I wrote.”

“It’s okay.” He looks at me, his gaze tender and concerned. “You’re not feeling well?”

I shake my head, hesitant to tell him why. The guys I dated in the past were always grossed out whenever I just mentioned I was on my period.

Del glances over to my coffee table, where there’s a bottle of pain relievers, an empty bag of salt and vinegar chips, and three candy bar wrappers.

“That time of the month?” he asks.

“Um, yeah.” I let out an embarrassed laugh. “Usually I’m fine, but some months the symptoms hit me kind of hard.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

I mess with the hem of the oversized sweater I’m wearing, feeling self-conscious.

“What do you need?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you like to eat and drink when you’re on your period? I’ll run out and get whatever you want.”

I stare at him. “Seriously? You’d do that?”

“Yeah.” He frowns. “Didn’t the guys you dated do that for you?”

I shake my head.

His frown deepens. He leans close to me and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes, savoring the sweetness of it.

He rests his hands on my waist and pulls me close. “Make a list of everything you’re craving and I’ll run out and get it right now.”

I’m grinning like an idiot. “Are you sure? It’s gonna be a long list.”

He flashes a relaxed smile. “Positive.”

“Okay.” I text him a list of everything I’m craving.

His phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket to look. “Pretty standard stuff,” he says while looking at the screen. “How about something for dinner? What takeout do you like to eat when you’re on your period?”

My chest tingles. That’s such a thoughtful thing to ask.

“Pad Thai with chicken and extra basil.”

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