Page 96 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming
BRIDGET
An hour later, Bridget enters the Sunny Side Up diner. She could kiss Lyric for picking a place so close to the gym and her home. She was even able to shave her legs and armpits before meeting him. Searching the establishment, she secretly hopes not to see him. No such luck. There he is, sitting in a booth, looking moisturized and sexy as hell. He gives Larenz Tate energy. His fineness and confident aura are a mix of his characters O-Dog and Darius Lovehall.
He looks up and sees her. She shyly waves at him. He waves back and follows it up by crooking his finger, beckoning her to come closer. Bridget walks over to the booth and sits opposite him.
“Hi,” Bridget says.
“Hello, Bridget.”
“In all the craziness, I wasn’t sure if you caught my name.”
“Kind of hard not to. You threw it at me pretty hard,” Silas jokes.
“I’m sorry about your shirt.”
“It’s cool. It was covered in sweat and needed to be washed anyway.”
Bridget lets out a nervous giggle. Just thinking about it makes her face heat up.
“So”—he continues—“your friend said that I’m your gym crush. I have to say I’m honored.”
“She told you that. Damnit, Lyric.” Bridget covers her face.
He snickers. “No reason to be embarrassed, baby. It’s nice to be the chosen one.”
She looks up at him, “the chosen one?”
“Yeah.” Silas searches her face. His eyes grow large, and he looks close to having a realization. “Did you not know how many niggas have tried to shoot their shot?”
“What are you talking about?”
A few men have been nice to Bridget—and a few have even helped her when she first started going to the gym—but no one has ever hit on her. At least not to the best of her knowledge.
“I haven’t noticed anyone flirting with me, but then again, I’m pretty bad at flirting myself. So, I probably just didn’t notice.” Bridget shrugs.
“Wow, well then, let me inform you, Bridget, that you are the one many men have tried and failed to holler at.”
“Did you ever hit on me?”
“No, I was actually going to say something to you today, but I chickened out, ironically.”
“Really? You don’t strike me as the type of man who gives up easily.”
“I’m not. But you’ve turned down a lot of dudes, and I wanted to give myself more time to think of something to say. I was so deep in thought about what I would say to you next time we were at the gym that, when you yelled your name, it scared the shit out of me. I’m Silas, by the way.” He extends his hand.
She takes his hand and tries to ignore how soft his skin feels.
Bridget clears her throat, “again, I’m so sorry. And I know your name. I heard the smoothie person say it. Did you know your name means ‘of the forest’?”
“I didn’t. I’m pretty sure my mom just liked the name. What does your name mean, Bridget?”
“It means power, strength, vigor and virtue.”
“Damn! That’s dope, and I got saddled with this weak-ass name meaning trees and shit.”
Bridget bursts out laughing. “It means ‘of the forest.’”
“Exactly. Trees and shit.”
