Christopher’s eyes hold mine, and I smile an over-the-top smile. “See you tonight.”
He turns and nearly skips out of the restaurant, and I proudly spin toward the kitchen.
He came back.
CHRISTOPHER
I walk at a quick pace down the street and glance at my watch. Four p.m.
Fuck.
I only have four hours.
“Where the fuck do you take a girl on a date to?” I think for a moment and then dial the only romantic person I know, Elliot.
“How’d you do?” he answers.
“She was surprisingly . . . forgiving.”
He laughs. “Good news.”
“I told her we’d go on a date tonight.”
“Good idea.”
“Was it?” I frown. “Because right now, romance is the last thing on my fucking mind.”
“Hmm. You need to get through the date part to get to the good part.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I snap. “I’ve got four hours to prepare so I can blow her socks off. What the fuck do I do?”
“Okay . . . um.” He thinks for a moment. “What do you want to do?”
“Not spend our first night in a shitty shared room, that’s for sure.”
“Book a hotel room.”
“She thinks I’m broke.”
“Tell her . . .” He thinks for a moment. “Tell her that your grandfather knows the owner and has some free-night coupons that he will never get to use, so he gave them to you.”
“Actually”—I nod as his plan rolls around in my head—“that’s not bad.”
“Then take her out for dinner.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But don’t drink too much, or else you will fuck up while having sex.”
I frown. “Define fuck up?”
“Be too rough.”
“That’s a fucking thing?” I gasp, horrified.
“Yes. That’s a thing. Nice girls who haven’t had sex in forever don’t fuck like you do. You need to train her up. Gentle and easy the first few rounds.”
“What?” I shriek. I’m so distracted that I bump into an old lady walking past. “I’m so sorry,” I call as I watch her hobble away.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Knocking over grannies. What do you fucking mean, gentle and easy? How do you fuck gentle and easy, and more importantly, why would anyone want to?” I begin to sweat. “I’m going to screw this up for sure.”
“It’s fine.”
I begin to freak out. “I don’t . . . this is a bad idea . . . I don’t know why. What the fuck was I thinking?” I cry.
“Calm down.”
“Calm down.” My eyes nearly pop from my head. “Calm down? You calm the fuck down,” I cry. “This is a disaster.”
“I’ll book a hotel for you.”
“Okay.” I stop on the spot and begin to pace. I inhale deeply as I try to calm myself. “Something nice . . . with a spa.”
“All right, I’ll text you the address.”
I imagine being naked in a spa bath with Hayden, and nerves simmer in my stomach.