Page 5 of Sour Brew Face

As the guys say, I’ve already shit, showered, shaved, and shined. I’m primped and dressed. And I’ve got…2 hours until my date with Langston. Fuuuck!

My stomach is churning with nerves, and I might have swallowed some of my toothpaste by accident. Shut up, you aren’t me. You don’t know what I’m going through. Don’t judge.

It’s ok, you can judge me. I deserve to be judged. I’m a lukewarm mess. I don’t even deserve to be labeled hot. I nicked my vag shaving too. I have to remember to remove the little pieces of toilet paper I used to stop the bleeding before I drop trou in front of him.

Not that I’m saying that’s going to happen tonight. But if it did…I don’t want him to think Japan has claimed my hoo-ha, putting their tiny flags everywhere.

I have never been this worked up about a date before, or a guy, or literally anyone. That must mean he’s important, right? My Spidey sense is tingling, although, that could just be the rush of blood to the flag sites.

I pick up my phone again, unlock it and nearly send it flying across the room when it buzzes in my hand. Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Langston is calling. Maybe he wants to get together early because he’s also a freak of nature who can’t manage time well.

“Hello?” I answer, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Mo.” Langston says my name and my stomach drops to my feet. He’s cancelling, I can hear it in his voice. “I’m so sorry to do this, you have no idea how much, but I have to postpone our date. My mom twisted her ankle and I’m going to take her to the hospital. Can we reschedule for Tuesday evening?”

He sounds sincere and disappointed. He’s not canceling outright. That’s a good sign. And he mentioned his mom, so that means he has a kind heart, putting her first. Never having grown up with one, I assume that’s how a son should treat his mother.

“I understand. Of course, we can reschedule. Tuesday should be fine. Just let me know. I hope your mom is ok.”

He sighs in relief, and it makes me smile. “I’m sure she’s fine, but I want to make sure nothing’s broken. I’m sorry, Mo. I really, really,reallywant to see you.” I giggle, then smack myself in the forehead because I don’t giggle.

“I want to see you too, Langston. And we will, Tuesday.”

“Ok. Right, Tuesday.” He coughs, his voice dropping an octave or two and sending a chill down my spine. “Out of curiosity, what were you gonna wear tonight?” With a lighter heart, I lean back on my couch and recross my legs.

“I hadn’t gotten that far yet, Langston. I’m in my robe right now since I just got out of the shower.” Two can play at this seductive game.

“Mmm.” He moans, my nipples hardening in my bra at the sound. “And is there anything under that robe?”

“Uh-uh. Not a stitch.” Fuck, I’m turning myself on. And he’s not here to take care of it for me. My eyes snap open when he starts laughing, that’s not the reaction I expected.

“You’re fully clothed in pants and nice shirt, aren’t you?” I huff at the audacity of this man.

“No…”

“Mo?”

“Fine.” I squeeze my eyes shut and confess. “If you must know, I’m actually wearing capri pants and a tank top.”

“God, Mo, I wish I didn’t have to cancel tonight. I’d love to see your capri pants.”

“Shut up.” I snap back without heat, and he chuckles over the line, the sound like warm honey.

“Can I call you later?”

“You want to talk to me later?”

“I want to talk to you all the time, but I’m trying not to get arrested for stalking.”

I purr into the phone, channeling my inner sex phone operator, “I hear bad boys are all the rage. Especially, ex-cons.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

“I’ll answer when you do.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky swear.” He sucks in a harsh breath.

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