Liz came over the line. “Okay, so listen, there is an art to this.”
I lolled my head back and stared at the ceiling.
“You need to hold it,” Liz said. “Don’t just let it hang there by itself all lonely.”
“Grip it by the base,” Doug said, miming it with his hand. “But don’t do that thing where you squeeze your balls to make it look bigger. She’s seen it, she already knows.”
I snorted.
“Don’t get a close-up. It’s way too aggressive,” Liz said. “Try and get your abs in there, maybe a little thigh or some side butt. Women like that. Double-check the background. No dirty laundry or a TV on. Do not, under any circumstances, take this pic wearing only a shirt. It’s extremely creepy. You can be wearing pants or boxers sort of pulled down, but no shirt. And don’t put a ruler next to it.”
I scoffed. “Men put a ruler by it?”
“All. The. TIME,” she said.
Doug shook his head. “Rookie shit. And manscape,” he said, setting up the light. “It’ll make it look bigger.”
I blew out a breath. “Anything else?” I asked reluctantly.
Doug was standing back with one eye closed, his hands in front of him, framing a section of my tool wall. “I think here’s good. Manly. She sees the tools in the background, makes her think of getting nailed.”
Liz laughed through the phone. “I’m hanging up now. Good luck!” And then from the background, “GOOD LUCK!”
She was at the bar. With everyone.
I put my face into my hand.
It took me twenty minutes, but I got the picture and sent it to Alexis. She called me five minutes later, whispering.
“I got this in the middle of dinner with my parents.”
“Oh, shit—”
“No, so far it’s been the highlight of the whole night,” she whispered.
I laughed. “Where are you?”
“In the bathroom.”
I leaned back in my seat and stretched. “You should bring them down.”
“Who?”
“Your parents.”
She went silent on the other end.
“You wouldn’t want to meet my parents,” she said. “Trust me.”
There was something “end of discussion” about her tone. I let it go.
“So when do I get to see you?” I asked.
“I can come down tomorrow after work.”
I grinned. “Okay. Do you mind if we go out to eat?”
“You want to take me out?”
“There’s a thing at the VFW. It’s not anything fancy. Just a spaghetti dinner. Liz and everyone will be there. If you’re not comfortable with that we can skip it.”
“I like spaghetti,” she said. “Sounds like fun.”
I moved the phone away from my mouth like she could hear my grin. “Okay, it’s a date,” I said. “Hey, didn’t you say once you were a picky eater?”
“Yeah. I am.”
“You eat everything I give you.”
She laughed a little. “I like everything you give me. I don’t like bar food. Fried stuff.”
“So if I’d tried to make you some hot wings or something, you wouldn’t have come home with me that night? It was nothing but the thin promise of a grilled cheese that tipped the scales?”
“I would have gone home with you that night, no matter what you were making.”
“Because of the baby goat?”
“No. Because of you.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “Gotta go.”
I couldn’t get the grin off my face. I hung up with her, beaming.
She didn’t tell me it wasn’t a date—which meant it was. She was coming out with me in public tomorrow, hanging out with my friends. She also told me she missed me earlier.
I’d been afraid to hope that this might not be one-sided. It felt impossible that I could interest a woman like Alexis in any way that was more than just sex. But now I dared to hope.
The progress was slow, but it was there. Tiny victories on my part. She was letting me in.
I didn’t think she’d actually let me meet her parents, but I threw these things at her to see what would stick anyway. The worst she could say was no—and sometimes she said yes.
She’d said yes to being exclusive. She’d said yes to spaghetti with my friends—which I’d sandbagged a bit. It was a little more than just a casual dinner. But everyone wanted it to be a surprise, and I wasn’t going to ruin it.
I felt like if I could keep getting closer, maybe a miracle could happen.