honor it was to be in her presence.
“You never should’ve told me that, Amira, now it’s my mission in life to give you that confidence. I want you to turn me down, but only because you know you’re too good for me, not because you don’t think it will work,” Smoke told her.
She looked at him in confusion. “I’m lost,” she admitted.
“You’re incredible, Amira. I know who I am, and I know what I deserve in life, but I also know who you are, and you’re too good for about ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the population. I might be the only guy out there who can come close to being worthy of having you on my arm.”
His words made her laugh again. Damn, he wanted to make her laugh every single day for the next fifty years. That thought popping into his head scared the living hell out of him. He’d never had the slightest thought like that before. Smoke was beyond grateful when the lights flashed, indicating the audience needed to quiet down. The show was about to begin.
While all eyes turned toward the stage, Smoke watched Amira. He was quite pleased when Jerry Seinfeld stepped onto the stage and her eyes widened in shock before she stood up clapping and yelling with the rest of the audience. For this man to come to this small theatre was a treat for all in attendance, especially when the majority of the crowd had no previous knowledge he was making a guest appearance.
“Good evening, Seattle. It’s nice to be back to the place where I can simply walk down the street and have a coffee instantly placed in my hand,” Seinfeld began. It was true. Washington had at least one coffee shop on every city block. A person wouldn’t go without caffeine in the northwest.
For the next hour, Smoke and Amira laughed so hard their stomachs hurt. They had some drinks, ate a lot of greasy food, and enjoyed the heck out of the show. A few of Seinfeld’s jokes made Amira blush, and she refused to meet Smoke’s eyes.
“Did you all know that women have two orgasms? The real ones, and the ones they make up on their own. Now, I can give you the male point of view on this, which is, we’re fine with it. You do whatever you have to do, and we’ll do whatever we have to. To a man, sex is like a car accident anyway, and trying to determine a female orgasm is like asking, what did you see after the car went out of control? Well, there were a lot of screeching noises, and I was facing the wrong way at one point, and in the end, my body was thrown clear.”
Smoke burst out laughing. He’d had a few similar experiences. He noticed Amira looked down at that joke. That made him wonder if she’d ever had a mind-blowing, out-of-this-world orgasm. Or did she have to fake them? He knew for damn sure, she wouldn’t have to ever fake anything with him.
“How many new couples are out there in the audience tonight?” Seinfeld asked as he looked at the very happy crowd. Smoke grinned as he held up his hand, knowing he’d catch the comedian’s attention. Smoke certainly stood out in the crowd.
“Ah, how is there hope for the rest of us poor souls if a couple as gorgeous as the two of you are just now dating?” Seinfeld asked, his gaze focused on Smoke and Amira. “Really? How in the world are you each single, or single before this date? Are you depraved? Do you dig graves? Commit murders at night and go to the office during the day?” Seinfeld continued.
“She’s a doctor and I like hitting things,” Smoke said as he flexed, making the audience laugh.
“Ah, a doctor. Impressive,” Seinfeld said, as he waggled a brow at Amira. “I’m feeling a little achy. Can I get you to check me out after the show?” he asked with an exaggerated wink.
“This one’s taken,” Smoke told the man with a laugh.
Seinfeld gave the audience a disappointed look as he shrugged. “Well, I guess my wife would probably prefer you’re taken,” he said after a second, making the audience laugh again. “Let’s face it, folks, a date is really a job interview that lasts . . . all . . . night . . . long. The only difference between a date and a job interview is that in not too many job interviews is