Page 24 of Two Sticky Nuts

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes immediately, probably noticing my scowl. “I know I can be a little out there with my views on things. I think I spend so much time trying to reimagine the world and tell life through a unique lens that I forget how to talk to normal, real-life, intelligent women.”

That’s the first nice thing he’s said since, well, I’m not sure. I don’t specifically remember him saying nice things in Jamaica. We just had fun together. Okay, and he talked a lot about his career. “No problem. Either way, I’m sorry about your mom.”

“Me too.”

“Any siblings?” I ask.

“One, but he’s older than me. We don’t talk much. How about you?”

“Only child. But I have a few cousins my age. We spent a lot of time together after school, since my aunt was a stay-home mom and both my parents worked. It was the next best thing to siblings, and I got my own room.”Along with a crippling inability to relax.

I catch a glimpse of him thinking, his blue eyes intense, but he doesn’t say anything.

“What?” I ask.

“Just taking mental notes. I try not to, but it’s a habit. I’m always cataloging people—their lives and experiences—in my head. A curse of my craft, I suppose.”

“Guess so,” I say as we finally get to the on-ramp.

“Hey, before we get to your place, I just want to say how good it is to see you again. I really enjoyed our connection in Jamaica. Haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

“Really?” My cheeks get all hot.

“Yeah. Really. But I don’t want you to feel any pressure tonight. I’m game for anything.”

Yep. I’m sure he is. I just wonder if I have enough ice-cream toppings on hand for his “game.”

“No expectations here,” I say with a squeak, my voice artificially high.

“Great. Because I really just want to get to know you and spend time together before I’m off to my next stop.”

“When do you think you’ll be back this way?” If he says never, then maybe I can let my guard down. Sounds counterintuitive, but I’d almost feel relieved to be done with this experiment in “boundary pushing.”

If I knew he didn’t plan to come to Dallas again, I could see myself saying:Okay, Mila. It’s just one night. Go apeshit. Have crazy-ass sex with him.I mean crazy sex. Not ass sex. I’m not breaking the booty seal for any man. I want full control of my flatulence and butthole when I’m older. I hear it gets difficult as is, so why make it harder to bend over and tie my shoes in public when I’m seventy? Just saying, no man’s pleasure is worth my dignity in my golden years.

Ass sex aside, what if he says he plans to come back soon, and I really start to like him?

I begin thinking about his side business and all those women paying him to dress up his falafels like festive cupcakes.

“Not sure,” he replies. “Could be two weeks. Two months. But I’m considering making Dallas my home base.”

I almost slam on the brakes. “Your home base?”

“Look, Mila, I’m not the type of man to hold back. Not my nature. I go after what I want or I die.”

A bit dramatic, but okay. I let him make his point.

He continues, “I’m never going to find a partner in life if I don’t start somewhere—a commitment to get to know a woman at the very least.”

“I guess that makes sense.” But he’s moving really fast. This isn’t the boundary I expected him to push.

“For me, it does. But only because of you, Mila. You’re the first woman to make me think beyond the moment.” He turns his gaze toward the road ahead. “Your smile made me realize that there’s more to life than my career.”

I’m a little speechless. I swallow hard. “That’s a really nice thing to say. But do you mean it?” Because he seems one hundred and ten percent into his career. Fine with me. We all have our paths to follow in life, but I want to share my life with a man, not give my entire existence to supportinghisdream. I have my own journey to figure out, too, and I want a partner who’ll be there for me like I’ll be there for him.

He places his hand on my thigh. “I mean it, Mila. I’m a complicated, immature, selfish man looking for the right woman to stop me from destroying my future.”

“Destroying?” I don’t quite understand.

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