in my head, it’d be during a badass surf scene where I’m back in the water ready to take on a wave the same size and intensity as the one that nearly killed me months before. Something catchy and classic would be the track chosen, like “Danger Zone” or “Eye of the Tiger”. Ultimately, it would live on in infamy, rightfully baring the title of the single greatest moment of my entire life. One that I would happily play over and over again because nothing would ever be able to top it.
Would’ve never guessed in a hundred thousand surfs that instead of that I would have one where the woman I can only describe as the one of my dreams is slowly strolling towards me in a flowy, red, high neck halter top dress, which has a split in the middle of the skirt, meaning slipping my hand between her firm thighs to the rare pearl between them would be effortless. And, as if the creepy stalker-like staring scenario can’t get any worse, the only song playing in my head right now is “Lady in Red”, a song I have never liked nor loved nor wanted near me yet, for some reason, I can’t fathom a better fit for the breathtaking perfection known respectfully to the rest of the non-starstruck world as Brooklyn.
“Ax,” her voice says in such a tone that it successfully snaps me out of the remake of Fast Times at Ridgemont High I mentally surfed into. “Is this the wrong thing to wear?”
“It’s only the wrong thing because I’m not sure I can walk and gawk at the same time.”
A small girlish giggle is given prior to her pushing a strand of her wavy hair behind her ear. “Bad for your brain but fine for the bar?”
“Precisely.”
We share in a warm laugh that manages to sooth my seared nerves.
First time I’ve had someone essentially blank out my ability to do anything other than admire how stunning they were. As long as this only happens on land and not out in the water, I should be safe.
Not sure I wanna drown over pussy rather than in it.
I slide my hand into the one she’s not using to hold her clutch and begin to lead us away from her parked car towards our destination. Unfortunately, my attempt to be stealthy in my pursuit to steal a small glimpse of her ass results in the tripping over an uneven portion of the sidewalk.
Wrong again.
Painfully wrong.
I’m not safe.
Not safe at all.
Don’t wanna break my neck any more than I wanna drown.
“You okay?!” Brooklyn swiftly stops, eyes dropping down to my flip-flop wearing feet. “Did you break something?”
“My pride,” I mumble under my breath.
Fighting the urge to be embarrassed – something I don’t get often – I wiggle my toes around making sure they’re all in working condition. Once I’ve got confirmation, I swallow down the minor lingering pain and push on a smile like she deserves. Feelings of being too old and too even natured to be this excited for a date attempt to drag me into the shallow waters of shame, yet when her hand gives mine a solid squeeze, it’s like being tugged the other direction to safety.
Almost like no matter what happens she’d never let me drown.
She can be my lifesaver anytime, and I’ll gladly be hers.
“You good?” Brooklyn innocently asks at the same time our gazes meet. “You need medical attention?”
“We talkin’ a little mouth-to-mouth Sandlot style or-”
A playful slap to the chest is promptly executed using the edge of her purse.
I lightly chortle, give the back of her hand a kiss, and resume leading us away.
Our leisurely stroll includes work highlights from each of us, although hers are indisputably more interesting. Hearing tales about naive tourists who either can’t handle the strong currents or ignorantly assume that their ten year old who “swims really well” will be fine that far out on their own make for much better conversation than the signed Silver Surfer comic book forgery that tried to end up in my store. Despite having the far superior entertaining stories, she gives her full attention to mine as though it could compete. The effort made doesn’t go unnoticed and has me suddenly doing things that I’m not used to…like rambling.
No one wants to listen to someone else drone on.
Most people want you to hurry up and say what you have to say so they can hear themselves again.
Most people.
Strange how Brooklyn has yet to