jumping up and down like idiots.
“What are you doing here?” I take a step back but keep my hands on her arms. We only see each other about twice a year. I make a trip there and she makes one here, but this year has been nuts for her and she wasn’t able to make it three months ago.
“You were afraid you were going to be murdered. When you told me you finally accepted coffee last night, I had to come make sure you don’t die.”
“You’re here!”
“I’m here!” She holds her hands out to her sides. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
“Wearing?” I look down at my jean shorts and tank top. “For what?”
“Your date. You can’t wear that. You look homeless.”
“I’m not going on a date. You’re here!”
“I’m here because you’re going on a date. Now move because we have a lot of work to do and you’re already going to be late.”
Sarah shoves past me, tugging her rolling suitcase behind her.
“I can reschedule with him.” If I’m being honest, I’ve been freaking out and trying to think of a good enough excuse to cancel, anyway. With her here, and us having so much to catch up on, it’s the perfect excuse.
“You are not canceling. Now to the bathroom. If you’re going to try blue eyeshadow, you have to do it right. This eighties mess you have going on will scare him away.”
It takes twenty minutes, a dozen pep talks, and the threat of telling building management about Simon before I agree to continue with my plans today.
“I’ll walk in first and get a vibe for the place. If I see any nerdy creepers hanging around, I’ll shoot you an abort text,” Sarah assures me as we climb on the elevator. “And quit gripping your dress like that. You’re going to wrinkle it.”
“Not my dress,” I mumble.
Of course my best friend showed up prepared for my lacking wardrobe with different dresses for me to try on. And of course, each one was more risqué than the one before it. I argued that it’s mid-afternoon and we weren’t going to a club or finding a street corner to stand on, but she wouldn’t listen to any of it. Apparently, dresses are for all times of the day and all occasions.
I grow even more nervous on the short walk to the small café. It’s literally on the same block as my building, but I’ve never been down here.
“Give me two minutes,” Sarah says with a quick pat on my arm. She disappears inside before I can argue and change my mind.
I stand near the wall so long, I expect her to come back out looking for me, but I get a text instead.
Sarah: There are a few guys in here, but there’s one I’m hoping isn’t here for you.
Me: He’s creepy and nerdy?
Sarah: More like fucking hot and yummy.
Me: What would Monroe think if he heard you talking that way?
I honestly know what her bi-sexual boyfriend would say. Probably something along the lines of dibs.
See, my best friend Sarah lives a very sexually free life. I met her online, but I didn’t meet her while gaming. She was a forum leader on a website for people with different tastes. I’ve been able to explore many different parts of myself because of her. Because of her, I know I can appreciate a woman’s body, but I’m not sexually attracted to the same sex. I know I like things a little on the wild side even though I haven’t practiced any of that stuff recently. I know I like it when a guy—
Sarah: Get in here or I’m grabbing this one for myself!
I move on instinct. Did I forget to mention Sarah is a Domme?
I chuckle at the idea of obeying her. Submission isn’t really my kink, but hey, it takes all kinds for the world to spin around, right?
I laser focus on the front counter. I told him about my hair, and he gave me nothing, which means he has to approach me, not the other way around. I can see Sarah out of my periphery, but I don’t look at her directly. Jesus, how embarrassing would it be if this guy saw me walk in and decided to slip out the back? My ego would take a massive hit if that happened, especially after weeks of incessant begging to meet up.
“When you mentioned purple hair, I was hoping it was you. My fingers have been crossed all day.”
I spin around to face