be better, don't you think?"
So it's now that I meet the mature man I need in my life, yet all I wanted to do was something stupid like sleep with him sexually on only our second date. I knew it never ended well sleeping with a man too soon. However, with the kind of sexual attraction we both seemed to be having, how could I wait? I plopped my butt down on the couch in my work pants and Crawley blue polo shirt and crossed my arms in front of me, started my pouting routine and breathed out a huge puff of air.
He let out a light laughter and sat next to me. "It's not so bad. You're Catholic, I'm Catholic, although from the sounds of it, we both don't practice it. It's just something about you makes me want to establish something more. I guess what I have to tell you next might make sense as to why I am doing this." He paused for a big intake of breath. "My last four girlfriends ended poorly. All of which were more sexual attractions then any friendship. I jumped in with guns loaded and fired. In other words, it was nothing more than sex. With you, I feel it. The connection. The desire to make it more than just sex. I guess we could blame my sister and her Catholic lecture of don't you dare, and you better wait and make sure. Kind of lame, especially for a man my age?"
I took a second to think about that, and I turned my body towards him then looked at him straight in the face. "Not really. Actually, it's pretty smart and self-controlled. Something I lack a lot of at times. Hey..." I reached out and held his hand. "Let's pick a number and tell ourselves that if we make it to that date number than we can lift the restriction of sex. What's your favorite number?"
"Two but that would make it tonight." He flashed a wicked smile and winked.
"Ugh. Ok. Mine is two too." We both started to laugh. Then I asked. "Pick a number between one and twenty."
"Twenty. That's too long to ask me to wait." He looked shocked, and I started to laugh.
"Seven. Luck be a lady that night. Date seven and if we decide that night that we can be mature adults after, well you know, then we will have a go at it."
"Oh I won't just have a go at it; I will conquer and succeed."
"Men!" I could not put much more thought into that comment because he started to kiss me and wrap me up into his arms. When he pulled away, he pulled me into his body on the couch while sitting; I clicked on the TV and asked what he liked to watch. He replied with a simple 'anything with you', so I handed him the remote. Not that I would always do that, but we were just starting out on this dating thing. I had an impression to make.
Chapter Seven
At ten eleven a.m. today, while sitting at my desk at work and watching the seconds click by on the big office clock on the wall, I officially turned thirty. I had a wave of somberness come over me, and then a floral delivery came with a huge bouquet of blue and white flowers. The card from Mason simply read: Happy Birthday. Whatever feeling was in my soul about getting older faded away with the possibilities of a thing happening between Mason and myself. I decided then and there that the Steve's of the world were long out of my life, and I was marching forth with my plan of maturity now and with any luck with Mason's help as he indicated.
Just as I was thinking about the future Mrs. Montahue, which would be me, striving forward with an education, charitable duties, and a drop-dead gorgeous husband with possible kids on the way, a familiar voice dropped me out of the clouds.
"Amber dear, I thought it might be nice if you and I had lunch today for your birthday." There, before me, in my five by five cubicle, with a voice that could duplicate nails on a chalkboard if she so desired, was my mom. All five feet three inches of her and short brown hair with a lot of gray showing through, donning a very nice pastel blue dress as if she was going to church, stood the woman I had not bothered