His leaving was not a relief, just a disappointment.
I didn’t share that, I just nodded.
He got up, pulled me out of the couch and walked me to the door. He put on his jacket. Then we made out more by the door.
He stopped that too (way too soon), kissed my nose in that sweet way he did in my office and murmured, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I breathed.
He smiled.
Then he was gone.
I’d had four dates. Not a vast amount of experience.
Still, I knew that was not a good date.
It was a great one.
I knew this because it got heavy. It got deep. But it was also light and fun. He was interested in me, didn’t mind showing it and digging to learn more. He didn’t mind that I showed I was interested in him and, when I cautiously dug, he was open and honest. We laughed. We cuddled. We made out.
And chocolate peanut butter sundaes were the bomb.
Lying in bed thinking of our night, I sighed.
The last thing he did last night was promise to call.
The first thing he did this morning was keep his promise.
That was when, in bed, I smiled.
Then I threw back the covers and got out.
* * * * *
Eight twenty-nine the same day
I jumped when my passenger side door was thrown open but I didn’t cry out this time.
This was because I knew when I turned my head, I’d find Chace.
And this was what I found.
I smiled at him, accepted the heart flutter that witnessing his return smile gave me and saw he was in much the same outfit as yesterday. But under his jacket, he had an oatmeal, wool, crewneck sweater on over his jeans shirt, a jeans shirt that was a lot more faded. It looked good against his tanned skin so I hoped one day I’d see all of it.
It must be said that Chace’s clothes were cool. He always looked like he’d walked straight from the pages of a beer advertisement marketed toward wannabe cowboys, rodeo stars and country singers. But with him, the way he walked, held himself, his extreme masculinity, his height, the lean muscle evident under his clothes, it was not a case of the clothes making the man.
Not even close.
It was the other way around.
He was extending my coffee, I took it and he hefted himself in while I examined the cup.
Sunny or Shambles were branching out. In teal, purple, hot pink, tangerine, lime and yellow marker were stars and hearts with fat, colored in swirls around them. It actually was kind of a mini coffee cup work of art.
“Faye.”
My head came up from examining my coffee cup as my heart again fluttered at Chace saying my name in a soft voice.