Page 11 of Falling for the Quarterback
Did I mention we live far away from each other? We do, and it sucks donkey balls, so we don’t know everything about each other all the time. Like this, for example.
“You’re right, I wasn’t heartbroken. The opposite, I was finally free. Since then, I haven’t wanted to deal with the male population unless I was paying them to fix something.”
“Oh goodness,” she sighs. “Not even a rebound fuck?”
“Nope, I’ve been completely dickless.”
“Well, this is definitely a big deal then. Obviously, this guy must be amazing already if he’s managed to snag your attention.”
“Oh, yeah. He has no problems being amazing so far. In fact, he reminds me of a lumberjack with his big, yummy arm muscles. Like a lumber snack.”
She chuckles. “Arm candy? Sounds like a good time.”
“I hope so.Eventually.The crisis I’m having is that I have no idea what to wear. I live in comfy, stretchy, cheer shortsand cotton T-shirts for the most part. You know what it’s like being in the cave and not caring what we look like.”
She’s a writer too, like me. We write all the spicy hotness you fill your Kindles with.
“Go with a dress. You always look great in them, and you won’t overheat.”
“That’s a good idea. I’m probably way overthinking this, but the panic set in, and I was spiraling.”
“You totally are. He’s already asked you on the date, so he likes you, whether he’s seen you in your boring shorts and top knot hairstyle or not.”
“You’re the best. I tell you that all the time, but it’s true.”
“I’m pretty great,” she agrees immediately, making me laugh. “You’re a boss bitch, don’t question it. Hell, wear jeans and a T-shirt, he’d be stupid not to want to see you again.”
I thank her for her remarkable insight and promise to follow up, letting her know how the date goes before we say our goodbyes and hang up. I toss my phone on the closest surface and take off for my bathroom.
I hate dresses on me for the most part, but Amy’s right, it’ll help me stay cooler and hopefully not overheat. I climb into the shower, scrubbing everywhere I can reach and shaving until I’m as smooth as I’ve been in months. Hey, no judging, I’ve been living the‘me’life, remember? It includes avoiding shaving when it’s not absolutely required. Besides, it’ll be no-shave-November in no time.
I’m finishing up, applying my mascara on the wispy fake lashes I’ve glued to my eyelids, when my phone chimes. I’ve gone all out for this date. I’ve moisturized everywhere, and even brought out my contour skills in my makeup. When he sees me this time, I want him to realize I don’t always look like a frazzled, hot, irritated mess onthe cusp of a menopause breakdown. Okay, it’s a lie, I look like that ninety percent of the time. However, I have my sparkle moments, and tonight’s one of them.
I check my phone.
He's outside my gate.Right now.
“Ah! This is really happening,” I say to myself, momentarily hopping up and down as a burst of nerves hits me. I’ll probably regret not holding on to the energy later, as I seem to burn through it quicker now than I ever have in the past. I’ll be ready for bed and a good book come nine o’clock, and he’ll be raring to go, I’ll bet.
“Be good, my babies,” I call out, then give extra pets and air kisses before I grab my wristlet with my credit card, phone, gum, lip gloss, and keys all crammed inside it. I step outside the gate of my privacy fence, since I have the entire lot fenced in, to find the same big truck as before, waiting for me.
JJ climbs out as soon as he sees me, walking around the front, a big smile plastered across his face. Lord Jesus, this man cleans up nice. He’s even more gorgeous than my fantasy, and that’s saying a lot. I thought I’d built him up, but apparently, I was selling him short.
“Holy fuckballs,” I whisper, and his head tips back as a booming laugh escapes between his perfect lips. I can’t help but grin at the sound; his laugh makes me feel happy all over. “Oops, didn’t think I was going to say that out loud.”
“I hope it was a good holy fuckballs? Because with the way you’re looking tonight, I’d say it’s phenomenal for me.” His words come across as completely genuine, and it has me standing a little taller, brushing off some of the earlier hesitation I was feeling when I was staring in the mirror, moments before he arrived.
I’m not going to lie to myself and pretend that his being younger than me isn’t at least a little intimidating, because it is. I’m finally at that age where I accept that I’m not going to be theyoungest in the room, the most attractive, or whatever. I’ve been slowly making peace with getting older and being okay with the changes my body is going through. It’s not easy at all, after living life thinking none of these changes would happen to me, or if they did, they would somehow be easier. It’s something I wish were different in the world, educating women starting at a young age about the true depth of changes we face both mentally and physically that we experience all through life. Not only when you’re young. They talk about puberty, then childbirth, then menopause, but so much is left out in the growing times between each big stage.
“You look pretty handsome yourself,” I admit, my cheeks warming as a bit of shyness comes over me. I’m not generally a shy person, but around him, I feel all tingly and jumpy for some reason.
“Thanks,” he follows me to the passenger side, opening my door, and my brow hikes. I get regular doors held open for me frequently, it’s a Texas thing, but the truck door too? Never happens.
And, I like it.
He offers his hand again, helping me as I put my foot on the sidestep and climb into the massive vehicle. Men in Texas love their big trucks, and JJ seems no different in that department. As I’m passing him to get into my seat, I catch a whiff of him and nearly melt on the spot. I’m going to beLord-Jesus’inga lot tonight, I already know it, because wow.
Just wow.
