Page 35 of Friendshipped
“Yes. I do. Definitely.”
Especially since he failed royally. I’m going to enjoy this probably more than I should.
“First of all, he drove like he was on the autobahn. I’m not kidding. I felt like I had signed up to be a ride along at the Indy five hundred. I have never been so happy to have a car come to a stop than when we pulled into the restaurant parking lot.
“Secondly, he’s fanatical about working out. And this is pertinent because the man found every opportunity on earth to flex. While we were waiting to be seated, he literally did a front lat spread with his elbows bowed out to the side. Handing me a menu, he popped the biceps. Standing to use the restroom, he pressed his hands on the table just so and his trapezius and deltoid muscles protruded. I felt like I was judging the Mr. Universe competition all night long.”
“The Oompa Loompa division,” I add.
Lexi’s laugh fills my car and my chest with unsurpassed warmth.
“The date was fine,” she says. “I mean, he asked questions about books I like reading. Talked about Miami U since he went there too, but he graduated a few years ahead of me. Nothing too bad, but nothing sparky, you know?”
“Sparky?” I ask.
I think she blushes a little.
“No chemistry,” she says. “Don’t make this weird or I won’t be telling you about future dates.”
“Got it,” I say. “No weirdness.”
She gives me the look that tells me she thinks I’m both incorrigible and adorable. I love that look.
“He actually wore parachute pants. I didn’t know they even made those anymore. And he has a parrot. But that’s not all. Here comes the worst part,” she says. “And you have to stay calm when I tell you.”
I grip the steering wheel. She said he didn’t hurt her, but I’m not sure I want to hear what’s next. I don’t even know how I’m keeping it together, hearing about her going out with another guy. Knowing he messed up eases my mind, for sure.
I can’t help myself. I do want to hear all about her date. I’m committed like a kid in a sled, careening downhill into the largest tree on the slope, destined for a crash, but squealing from the adrenaline all the way.
“So, before Hank drove up and saw you armed with gardening shears, he asked …”
“What?” I ask. “What did he ask you, Lex?”
“It’s embarrassing,” she says.
“Embarrassing for him,” I assure her. “He’s the one who asked you. You didn’t ask him anything, did you? Unless you asked him where he tans.”
“No. I didn’t ask that,” she says with a small laugh and then her voice turning softer and less full of life than it has been all morning.
I sit quietly waiting for Lexi to gather the willingness to share with me, or not.
Finally, she mutters, “He asked me if I was feeling frisky.”
I try, but I can’t.
There’s no way not to laugh at the image of this giant muscle-bound, orange man in parachute pants asking Lexi if she’sfrisky. A hysterical laugh bubbles out of me and I couldn’t stop laughing if someone paid me.
Lexi looks at me with slight annoyance at first, but then she starts laughing too.
Pretty soon tears are streaming down her face as she gasps out, “Frisky? I mean, who says that?”
“Hanka Loompa,” I say, still chuckling. “That’s who.”
12
Lexi
Trevor’s driving us home after work. It’s almost been a week since my date with Hank last Sunday and I’m not sure where I stand on pursuing more dates through the app. A few guys have reached out this week. I’m sticking with it for now after talking with Felicia. In her words,one bad date doesn’t mean you won’t eventually find a love connection.
