Page 38 of Free to Dream
I hate when he’s right.
“Let me handle this as I see fit. I don’t want to spook her off the bat. What good does it do to mention all of this on the first date if nothing comes from it?” I say through gritted teeth. “Fair enough, buddy?”
“Oh, just fucking thrilled, buddy.” He sits back, glaring at me.
As the plane touches down, we end the flight locked in a deadly stare down, neither of us giving an inch. Both of us pissed and worried.
As we make our way back into the city in silence, I can’t help but wonder if I’m turning my back on fair advice.
But how do you tell someone you know everything about them and earn their trust?
12
Cassidy
It’s Friday. More accurately, it’s Friday evening.
Caleb should be arriving soon.
I’ll admit it, I’m a nervous wreck.
It’s the first date I’ve ever agreed to according to my sisters, which isn’t to say I haven’t needed an escort on occasion. I normally took Phil before he married Jason. This is probably why I was goaded into a session of pre-date prep last night at the carriage house.
Seriously, did I need to have tweezers pluck hair there? On a first date? Ali must put out more often than that hot lawyer in the hotel room we shared the weekend Phil and Jason got married. For the love of God, that shit hurt!
Then came the clothes. Sweet Jesus, I swear I spent more time putting outfits back in their proper place after they left my house. I love my sisters, I truly do, but they’re tornadoes in my calm space. But they do have an incredible sense of style.
It’s how I ended up wearing a pair of tight-fitting, dark wash crop jeans, a black, long sleeve bell sleeve crepe shirt with lace inserts, and sky-high raspberry Louboutin’s I got for an absolute steal online. I mean, who of the shoe obsessed wouldn’t buy Christian Louboutin’s for $148.00 from the man himself? I keep checking my credit card bill for an extra zero to appear at the end of the charge. My equally shoe obsessed sisters oohed and aahed appropriately. Lucky me, they’re all so much taller than I am, they can’t borrow my shoes. What they don’t know is that I bought them each a pair for Christmas.
Mentally, I’ve barely permitted myself two minutes to think alone. I got up super early this morning and went to go see Matt. Sitting by myself in The Coffee Shop, Matt asked me a lot of the same questions Em did when I was in her office. He just dug deeper into some of the answers. Like, does the idea of being alone with Caleb trigger any sort of negative anxiety for me. I was surprised to realize I’d already been alone with him in my office. Matt, surprised by my answer, was even more taken aback when I told him the door was closed while Caleb and I were arguing.
Matt probed into my physical concerns. This has been a sensitive topic when I’ve thought about dating in the past. I was pleased to be able to talk about some of the sensations I was already experiencing, such as the anticipation of hearing Caleb’s voice, the shivering warmth from his touch, knowing from my body’s responses to his physical presence that my sexuality hadn’t been mutilated before it should have been born, it was just dormant for the last twenty years.
I was pleased to be able to tell Matt that no, I wasn’t afraid of Caleb physically with the caveat about coming up behind me when I’m unaware or sharp movements, like when he went to touch my face. I don’t think I’ll ever truly get past those reactions, even if they temper over time.
Matt and I talked for a long time about sex and that I shouldn’t feel embarrassed about asking people I trusted about it. He said everyone who has been through a sexual trauma is different and only I will know what’s right for my heart, mind, and body. He said that when I chose to make love with a man, it would be the most beautiful experience in the world.
I feel as if I’ve done all the preparation I can.
Even if this date turns out to be a complete bust, I thoroughly enjoyed most of the first date rituals my sisters took me through last night and earlier today—face masks, making sure I was wearing lip color that was the exact shade of my heels, shared giggling over the hot guy I was going out with. Because let’s be honest, Caleb Lockwood is hot as hell.
I’ve been around my fair share of attractive men over the years. I’ll even admit to being hit on by more than a few. Not even one tempted me to ever accept a date or anything else they may have directly or indirectly alluded to. Yet, with Caleb Lockwood, there’s just something there. I remember the slice of disappointment I felt when I’d initially thought he was one of the grooms in the wedding.
If I ever thought of fantasizing about a man, I still don’t think I would have imagined his muscled body, strong jaw, his dark, thick hair begging for a hand to run through it…
Jesus, who am I right now? I don’t do daydreaming, at least not over a man. Especially one who should have me running for the hills. I dream of serenity. I dream of peace. I dream of laughter. I dream of family. I don’t dream of hot guys who send tingles through my body when they touch my hand. I shiver in remembrance before I mentally chastise myself.
Get it under control, I warn myself. I still have the rest of this event to get through. And, he may be a good guy, but I don’t know much about him.
I regroup by scanning the chaos of the Collyer Dress Extravaganza.
The dress extravaganza started out as a small way to help three girls, and it wasn’t too long after we had opened the doors of Amaryllis Events. We helped them find a way to make extra money to buy their homecoming dresses. Over the years, it has morphed into us bringing in actual dresses by high-end designers. Amaryllis Events picks up the initial tab and those not purchased are donated to other local high schools. Tonight’s event, the one I forgot when I made my date with Caleb, is dress selection night for Collyer’s senior girls.
Over the cacophony of screeches and excited glee, there are gaggles of girls trying on homecoming dresses in the farm’s main room. I lean against the wall in the back by the glass doors overlooking the lake, catching Phil’s attention. He makes his way over to me and slips his arm around my waist.
“Great job.” His eyes scan the room. “The girls are finding what they want.”
“You can thank Em for that. I don’t know how she manages to get the designers to give us the samples at cost each year. Dear God! Except that one. They probably gave us that one for free!” My eyes widen enormously at a sequined orange number with what appears to be a feather skirt. I elbow Phil, who quietly chokes on the inhale of his next breath. We glance at each other and quickly look away. We’re breathing in hard to hold in the laughter.
