Текст книги "Cruel and Beautiful"

Автор книги: A. M. Hargrove

Соавторы: Terri E. Laine
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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

The deep reverberations of his chuckle make my belly tighten. What is it about him? And I can’t even remember what he looks like, dammit!

“It’s not that bad, really.”

“Okay, what?”

“You wanted to know what a guy like me was doing at a party like that. I said I was hanging out with Ben. Then you wanted particulars. I told you what I did and you whispered in my ear that if I were a gynecologist, you’d never come to my office for a visit for fear you’d embarrass yourself during the exam.”

Jesus Christmas. I cover my face with a pillow. I’m way past mortified and don’t know what to say.

“Cate, are you there?”

“Uuuggghhh,” I groan. This is worse than I expected.

“It was pretty damn cute, I have to say.”

“Did I do anything else that will warp my life forever?”

“Nah, just some things about me being sexy, but I can’t recall the specifics.”

Translation—he doesn’t want to embarrass me any further.

“Sexy? I called you sexy to your face?” The heat in my cheeks will probably melt my skin off.

“You did and turned every shade of red when you realized you said it out loud.”

I try to speak again, but my words are muffled because I’ve buried my face in the pillow again. I sit up and decide to just put it out there.

“So now the question remains—why do you want to go out with a girl who made a fool out of herself the first time you met her?”

“To be completely honest, Cate, I found your frankness refreshing—especially in a beautiful woman like yourself. Even in your slightly inebriated condition, you were witty and sexy. If I could’ve talked you into going home with me, I would have. However, Ben would’ve killed me.”

My mouth curves into a huge grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

My body heats with his admission. And this is just a phone conversation. What the heck will he be like in the flesh? “Well then Drew, I look forward to meeting you again.”

“Great. And Cate?”

“Yeah?”

“I promise not to act like a gramps. See you at seven on Saturday.” The humor in his tone is unmistakable.

I’m going to kill Jenna. Very slowly and painfully.

Saturday at seven sharp, my doorbell buzzes. When I open it, I look up into the most beautiful pair of cerulean eyes. They crinkle at the corners when he smiles, and then I get the whole picture. Drew is in no way a gramps. He is definitely smokin’ hot. Sin on a graham cracker, in Jenna’s words. And in mine—a hot fudge sundae, with whipped cream, and a cherry on top, plus chocolate cake with buttercream icing.

Thick wavy sandy brown hair that’s been kissed by the sun caps his head. It’s messy like he just ran his hands through it, but it makes me want to sink my fingers in and play sexy time. In a very bad way. High cheekbones, a nose that’s neither too small nor too large, and lips that make me swallow before drool runs out of my mouth come together to create a beautiful face. Perfect teeth gleam as he continues to grin. This is no average college boy that stands before me. And I’m speechless. How in the hell could I have forgotten a face like this?

“I take it you approve?” Even his voice is perfect. The southern drawl I miss so much living here in the Midwest has me breaking out in a huge grin.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to see if looking at you would help me remember.” That’s not true and I’m pretty sure he knows it.

He chuckles as I sneak in several more peeks at him. He’s broad-shouldered with a wide chest that tapers down to a narrow waist. My hormones rage like a teenager as I salivate for a look underneath his button down shirt. I’d love to see if he has a six-y or an eight-y. I’m also curious to see his V because I’m damned sure he’s got one. He wears dark jeans that ride low on his hips as they mold to his body. I’d like to ask him to pirouette so I can inspect his ass, but I refrain.

“Well?” His crooked grin only adds to his appeal.

“Okay, I’m busted.” I raise my hands in the air. I’ve always been shy about what I want, and only tell Jenna the truth. I guess what I thought were surreptitious glances weren’t quite as secretive as I intended them to be. What the hell has gotten into me?

He throws back his head and offers me a hearty laugh.

Needing a quick recovery, I sputter, “I thought it only fair, since I was over served at the party and didn’t remember meeting you. I’m sure you had ample opportunity to check me out, so I figured I’d take my chance now.”

He dips his head and says, “I hope I don’t disappoint.”

“Not in the least.” I roll my lip under my teeth. If nothing else, I’m strongly considering a one-night stand. That’s definitely not my style but damn, he’s worth it.

He dampens a grin and I can tell it’s a struggle. “Well then, Ms. Forbes, are you ready to take your chances on dinner with me?” he asks as he offers me his arm.

“Indeed I am.” I grab the small purse with my phone and keys before taking his arm.

After I lock the door, we head off toward a Toyota 4-Runner. It’s not the newest model, but not an old one either. It’s extremely clean, unlike my unorganized and messy Honda Civic. Please don’t let Drew be a neat freak. If he is, he might end up hating me and ending this before we even have a beginning. Oddly, I have a feeling I might be disappointed if that’s the case.

“So, Jenna tells me you’re dual majoring in accounting and journalism.”

“That’s right. And what else did Jenna tell you about me?” I nudge him playfully.

“Don’t blame her. I pestered the hell out of her for days. She was pretty reticent at first until I just wore her out. I should warn you. I can be like that.”

“Oh, not one of those!” I feign shock. It has the desired effect; he laughs.

“Yeah. I had the greatest teacher. My mother.”

“Hmm. At least you’ve given me a heads up.”

“So?”

That one word has me laser focused on his lips. It takes me a second to blink back up to meet his eyes.

“Yeah. Dual major. At first I was solely business, but I wasn’t into it. Then I discovered accounting and love it. And I’ve always had a thing for writing so I figured maybe I could parlay the two into business journalism or work for a large corporation and do business writing. I don’t know yet.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” His smile is warm and I’m finding it easy to talk to him. I thought I might have to force conversation. Yet I’m vomiting words like I have the stomach flu.

“Or a half-ass one, like my dad says. He thinks I’ll end up with some menial job somewhere.” I laugh and shake my head, thinking about my family.

“Yeah, well parents can either be most resourceful or the biggest hindrance when it comes to this type of thing. You should follow your heart.”

I grin. Not many people see my logic when it comes to my majors. Tapping his arm, I say, “Thanks. That’s very nice to hear because even Jenna thinks I’m crazy. She gives me a hard time because I’m always studying.”

“It’s good to be driven, Cate. Not everyone is like that.”

I smooth my dress over my legs. “I wouldn’t necessarily call it driven. It’s sort of a must.” I explain the deal about my parents and my scholarships.

“Ah, I see. But that sort of makes you even more motivated. The way I see it, you could’ve taken the easy road and gone to school where they wanted you to. But instead, you chose Purdue, and are working hard to stay here. It’s your choice, right?”

“Well, yeah. When you put it that way, I guess so.” He makes me feel good about the fact that I have to study hard. Everyone else, including my best friend, gives me a hard time about it.

I look at his profile as he drives and see his lips curl into a smile. He’s nothing like I expected. What had I expected? Some older dude. And why? I don’t know. Seven years from now I’ll be his age. Will I consider myself old? I shake off the thought because I see how ridiculous I was being.

“What has you so quiet over there?” He glances over at me before returning his focus to the road.

“Honestly?” I should feel silly but I don’t. He seems good natured.

“Yeah.”

“A couple of things. One, you get why I have to spend so much time studying. Everyone else gives me crap about it. And two, I was thinking that twenty-seven isn’t exactly old.”

“Ah, so maybe not gramps then?” He looks at me and winks.

I shake my head. “I can’t believe Jenna told you that.”

“Don’t blame her. Like I said, I’m persuasive. I had to know why you were so opposed to going out with me. Then I thought it was funny. Old man McKnight here.”

It is comical when he says it like that.

“Well it was partly because I don’t date since I need to keep my grades up. So you and Ben are close?” I ask.

“Yeah. We’ve been close since kindergarten.”

“It is funny that we’re all from Charleston, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it’s even funnier that you don’t remember our conversation about this,” he says, grinning.

My hands cover my face. “Oh lord. I’m so embarrassed about that. And sorry. I can’t believe how stupid I was, too. So, tell me what I missed.”

“Only that Ben and I have been friends since kindergarten, like you and Jenna.”

“That’s so crazy!” I slap my knees. It’s strange enough that Jenna and I, both Charlestonians, are here at Purdue. Most southerners never leave the south. Ever. Unless they have a very compelling reason to do so, such as marrying a millionaire, getting a job offer that pays millions, or you get the picture. And southerners rarely go to college at a northern school unless it’s for a degree in something that they cannot get at a southern school. But really? Is that even possible? So how did Jenna and I end up at Purdue? Because her brother Ben went here and LOVED it, and for four years that’s all we heard. So Jenna persuaded me to visit with her and, I must admit, I fell in love with it too.

“So, why have I never heard of you?”

He raises one hand. “No idea. Look what you’ve been missing all this time.” He laughs and there are his pearly whites.

No shit. I’m going to wring Jenna’s neck the first chance I get. And when I think about it, why hasn’t she been lusting after Drew all this time? She never talks about him. Never.

My stupid filterless mouth spews forth, “Why hasn’t Jenna ever mentioned you? Seriously, after all these years I would think I would’ve heard about you.”

His face turns the prettiest shade of pink. It goes all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“Well, our age differences might have something to do with it. Gramps, you know. Think about it. Ben and I were in high school when you and Jenna were in elementary or middle school.” And he winks. Then his expression turns somber. “But I was in a serious relationship until over two years ago.”

“Ahh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” Now that makes sense, but I want to stay away from the rebounder.

“Yeah, I dated her in college and pretty much figured we’d get married, but she didn’t. She ended it during my third year in med school.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll be honest here. I took it pretty bad. So, yeah, that’s probably why.”

“I see.” I do some calculations in my head. “So if it’s been way over two years, would that be considered a rebound?” Oh, shit. Did I just say that out loud?

“Rebound? You think I’m on the rebound?” He parks the car and I glance up to see the restaurant.

“I, uh,” I suck some air through my teeth, “I didn’t mean for you to hear that. I was calculating the time in my head.”

He swivels in his seat and nails me with his eyes. I’m pinned in place by those damn blues of his. They are really something. “I’m not on the rebound. I couldn’t even talk to a woman for months. Almost a year to be precise. Then I went out on a few dates, and stopped altogether. Just wasn’t ready. But eventually, I moved on. When I let it all go, I realized we weren’t a match. Our wants out of life were way off base. When that happened, things sort of fell into place. It’s been over two, almost three years since the split and I’m happier now than I’ve ever been. So no. I’m not on the rebound, Cate.”

“Thank you. You didn’t have to tell me all of that.”

“No, I didn’t.” He says it graciously. “It is strange though, us being from the same town, and never having met. Plus the fact that I’m best friends with your best friend’s brother makes it even weirder. It did require some sort of an explanation. I’m glad I told you. So, shall we go in and eat?”

“I think we shall.”

He walks around and opens my door, like a true gentleman.

“By the way, did I tell you how great you look tonight?” he asks.

“No.”

“My bad. You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” I glance down at my outfit, a black knit dress that skims my body. It isn’t special but it highlights my assets and I’ve always felt sort of pretty in it.

“I have to tell you something. That night I saw you at the party, all I could do was stare at you. After our little conversation, I decided to make it my goal to get you to go out with me. Thank you, Cate, for helping me out.”

“Helping you out?”

“Well, yeah. You helped me attain my goal,” he says as he waggles his brows.

“Um, do you have any other goals that involve me?” I ask. I don’t dare tell him I’ve already set some of my own. And they aren’t the kind I like to share.

“Yeah, but I can’t disclose those yet. Maybe later, after a glass or two of wine.”

I lean into him. “Hmm, you have me hanging in suspense, Drew.”

“It’s all good, Cate.”

Dinner is delicious. It’s the best Italian food I’ve ever had away from Charleston and New York City. Drew orders for us both because I can’t make up my mind. I finally tell him to surprise me. When the food arrives, there’s so much of it I laugh. I’m sure we’ll be bringing boxes of it home, but Drew eats like he has a bottomless pit for a stomach. I’m impressed.

“Where does it all go? To your toes?”

“Yeah. About that. I run a lot and lift weights so I’m always hungry.”

Now I really want to see his V. Maybe even lick and bite it. I’ve never seen one in real life. For that matter, I’ve only had pseudo sex once, and it was with that dickwad I used to date last year. He tried to repeatedly stab my vagina with his penis one night and it was so horrifying, I made him stop. He ended up calling me all kinds of awful names like cockblocker and frosty cunt, so I broke up with him while lying in my bed naked and sobbing. It was the most humiliating moment of my life. I still have nightmares over that incident. And dickwad—not even close to having a V. His abs bore a closer resemblance to a bowl of Jell-O. He was kind of cute in the looks department, but after his asshole move in the bedroom, every time I saw him after that, I swear he turned into a trollface. I still pray a horde of killer bees descends on his peen and stings the hell out of it. It’s no less than he deserves.

“What in the world are you thinking that has put that scowl on your face. I hope it’s not me?”

Good lord! “Oh, no!” My laugh is shaky. “It’s definitely not you. Actually, it’s nothing, really.” I rub my arms as I glance at the napkin on my lap. Why did I have to think about that dreadful night?

“Come on, Cate. You looked like an assassin from one of those Jason Bourne movies a few seconds ago.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. Spill it.” His grin is disarming.

“No. You’ll think I’m awful.” The last thing I’m going to do is tell him about dickwad.

“Only if it involved me,” he says.

“It didn’t but I can’t tell you. It’s of a highly personal nature.”

“Well, I hope to god I never put that look on your face.”

“I hope you don’t either. Let me just say it had to do with killer bees.”

“Killer bees. I’ll remember that. On another note, how about some killer dessert?”

As long as it has to do with your V, sure. “Okay. What are you having?”

“Their tiramisu is the best.”

“Wanna share?”

“Nope. I’m too greedy when it comes to sweets.”

“I love an honest man. Make it two then.” The waiter takes our order and when they are delivered, Drew was right. It is some kind of tasty. But I bet his V is better. Why am I being such a horn dog tonight? I’m on my second spoonful, and his dish is empty. His arm extends across the tiny square table and he dips his spoon into mine.

His dessert thievery makes me laugh. “Damn, you really are greedy.”

“Sorry. I’m surprised my teeth aren’t the size of giant Chicklets. I have an enormous sweet tooth.”

“Eat away.” Why am I flirting?

He waggles his brows again and says, “I’m hoping to.”

I nearly spit out the bite of tiramisu I’ve just taken. He turns a bit pink again, which I find most charming, and says, “Sorry. That was a bit inappropriate.”

I swallow to avoid choking, and reply, “No. I don’t mind inappropriate. You just caught me by surprise.” By the time I’m ready for another bite of my dessert, I find my dish is empty. He gives me a guilty look. And for some reason, I want to pinch his cheek and tell him it’s okay. How weird is that? I’m usually not a giggly, pinch the cheek kind of girl. Now that I think of it, I’m normally not a share my dessert kind of girl, either.

“I’m sorry I stole your tiramisu.”

“It’s okay. You did me a favor.”

“How’s that?”

“I didn’t need all those extra calories.”

“Oh, god, please tell me you’re not one of those?” He sits back and inspects me.

“One of what?” I’m truly baffled.

“The rabbit eaters. Girls who eat like rabbits.”

“No, I couldn’t survive without pizza. You can probably tell.”

“I can tell you look perfect to me.”

Uh huh. They all say that when they want to get in your pants.

“You don’t believe me?”

“No, I believe you. But come on. Most guys are only interested in one thing.”

“True. But Cate, I’m not most guys.”

I laugh. “Now that’s an original line.”

“Shit. That was a bad one, wasn’t it?”

“Not the worst I’ve ever heard.” We both chuckle.

“So, Cate Forbes, are you up for going out for a drink with me?”

“Yeah. One question. Where do you live?”

That adorable smile reappears and he says, “Indy. But don’t worry. I booked a hotel room for the night. I was thinking we might be out late and I didn’t want to deal with the hour drive.”

That was sweet. “Where are you staying?”

“At the Union.”

“Cool. Then let’s hit it.”

We decide on a club called Chuckie’s. On the way, Drew leans toward me and asks, “Cate, since you’re not twenty-one, are you going to be able to get in the clubs?”

I wave my hand in the air. “No worries. I’m a resourceful college student. I have a fake ID.”

“I figured as much, since you were Jenna’s friend.”

When we arrive at Chuckie’s, we head straight for the bar. Drew orders us a couple of drinks—a vodka and soda for me and a vodka and tonic for him—and hunts for a place to hang out. He grabs my arm and leads me across the room to a small table close to the dance floor. “I’m surprised we found this.”

“I know. Score.” I fist bump him and then we clank our glasses. The music blares as people dance and I scan the room, checking to see if I recognize anyone.

I don’t spot anyone and focus on Drew’s gorgeous eyes instead. He stares at me like I’m interesting. It’s not a bit awkward. No one’s ever made me feel special before, but when he looks at me, that’s exactly how I feel. I grin, then sip my vodka and soda.

“If you keep watching me, I’ll think I have something stuck on my face.”

He folds his arms and leans on the table to get closer to me. “I’m trying to be good and not kiss you like I want to here in front of everyone.”

“Maybe I want you to kiss me,” I say brazenly.

He’s about to call my bluff when the next thing I know, the waitress places two shots in front of us. Drew pays and I pick one up.

“Did you do this?”

The side of his mouth curves up in a sexy grin. “Guilty. I knew you liked vodka so I figured a couple of lemon drops might be fun.”

“I love lemon drops. Are you trying to get me drunk, Drew McKnight?”

“I’m trying real hard to get you, Cate Forbes, by any means possible.”

I don’t need vodka, because I’m drunk on him. He’s easy to be around and I’m so comfortable with him, as if we’ve known each other for years and not hours.

“Here’s to lemons, vodka, and um, drops!”

Drew’s wide grin has me grinning right back. Damn, the guy is just too gorgeous for my own good. Or is it for his own good? We clink our tiny shooters and drink them. It goes down far too easy. Then I Gotta Feeling by The Black Eyed Peas comes on.

I fly out of my seat, feeling unabashed. Running to the dance floor like a loon, high on life and Drew, I start shaking it up. The alcohol has loosened me up and I decide to put on a little show. Drew sits and I dance just for him, swinging my hips and spinning around. I wobble a few times, but correct myself, giving Drew a thumbs up, showing him it was a move I did on purpose. He laughs, and gives me an air fist bump. When the song ends, I shake my hair and head back to our table.

“You’re quite the prancer, Cate.”

“Yeah, it’s one of my secret talents. You’re a lucky guy, Drew. Most people aren’t aware of this hidden ability.” I lean close to his ear and say, “I’m the stealth dancer.”

“Ah, is that so?”

“Yep. I have moves.”

“I’m sure you do, but I have to share something with you.”

“Yeah, what?”

“I have secret moves, too, Cate.”

“Ah, I bet you do.”

A slow song plays and Drew takes my wrist, spins me, and says, “Like now. How about a dance, twinkle toes?”

I’m out on the floor and in his arms before I can think about it. And it’s nice. No, it’s perfect. His arms hold me close, much closer than any average acquaintance. The fact is, I’d like to move my hand off his shoulder and tangle my fingers in his hair instead. He smells nice. Not too strong, but fresh and clean, and I’d like to tuck my face into the base of his neck and snuggle right here on the dance floor. My hand rests in his, but then he changes things. He shifts his so that our fingers lace. That tiny movement makes my stomach muscles clench, and I find that I desperately want him to kiss me. I lean back so I can look at him only to find him staring at me. There is no laughter on his face, only serious intent etched around his eyes. The song suddenly ends and we stand there, stuck in each other’s gazes as a faster paced one begins. Drew doesn’t speak, but leads me off the floor with his arm over my shoulder. When we get back to the table, he says, “Thank you for that dance, Cate.” He leans in and kisses my cheek.

We drink and dance some more. And I have way too much fun. So much fun that Drew practically has to drag me out of there. Luckily he drove his car to the Union parking garage after dinner and we walked to Chuckie’s from there. Now we have to walk home. I love being with this man. I don’t want the night to end. And I tell him.

“This is the best date I’ve ever been on.”

“And to think you called me gramps.” His elbow nudges me.

“Who knew gramps was so sexy?”

It’s late September and the night has gotten chilly. My arms hug my middle, and Drew’s arm is draped over my shoulder. But I want more. I want both arms to be around me and I want to taste him. So my devious mind goes to work, and I pretend to stumble on an imaginary something or other. It works beautifully. He reaches for me, hands on my hips, to stabilize me, and we stand facing each other. My arms circle his neck and he dips his head until our lips graze against each other’s. It’s not enough for me. I want more of Drew McKnight. I want all of Drew McKnight. But I’m not the most experienced so I let him lead.

He leans back and whispers, “Tell me this is okay.”

“It’s way more than okay.”

His mouth presses to mine, tentatively at first, testing the waters. His lips, which are soft yet firm, nip at mine, and then his tongue peeks out. He runs it along my bottom lip and I open my mouth. Suddenly, we’re kissing. Aggressively kissing. He pulls my body up against his, arms wrap tightly around me, his head slants, and the kiss deepens. He explores my mouth as his body presses fully against mine. I feel his hardness and strength through the thin fabric of my dress. My body becomes a live wire—goosebumps erupt from my neck to my ankles; my belly clenches; my nipples stiffen; and for the first time in my life, I get wet. From a kiss. Holy sexy hell.

We’re moving. Drew lifts me up and we’re moving as we kiss. I’m not sure where, and I don’t care, as long as he doesn’t stop kissing me. When my back hits something, we stop. Every time he takes a breath, he nips my lips, making me want more. Then one hand slides down to my hip and squeezes as he grasps me tighter, pressing me to his body. He jerks his mouth away from mine.

“Fuck. Cate. Catelyn. Cate, Cate, Cate.” A litany of Cates.

Then his mouth is back on mine for only a second and I moan in protest when he pulls away. The thought occurs to me that this is more than a mere kiss. My body tingles and my knees are weak. My fingers sink into his shoulders so I don’t crash to the sidewalk. This is something poems are written about and erotic novels are penned over. I am wet between my thighs and the only things he’s touched other than my face are my mouth and hip. Once more his lips find mine and passionately kiss me, tongue sliding against mine, turning my stomach into a knotted frenzy and making my head spin. This time when he stops, it takes me a second to collect myself.

“Come to my room with me. Please. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I swear. I just want to hold you. And stare at you. And wake up with you. And maybe I sound like some pussy whipped bitch, but I’m not ready to send you home.”

My brows must hit my hairline and I giggle. Only because I’m drunk—drunk on his kisses. I hate giggly girls, but the idea of him being a pussy whipped bitch makes me die laughing.

“Yes. Okay, I’ll come. But I won’t fuck you,” I blurt out.

“No. No fucking at all. Not one tiny little bit of fucking. I solemnly swear. Scout’s honor. God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

This man is perfect. He’s like my dream guy. And to think I almost didn’t go out with him! I wasn’t looking for this but what a huge mistake that would’ve been. He links our hands and we walk back to his room. I hope this is real and not the alcohol making me feel this way. I stop for a second and pinch my arm.

“What’s wrong? Did a bug bite you?”

“No. I only wanted to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.” And in an instant, his arms wrap around me, his mouth hovering over mine.

“You’re not dreaming, Cate. This is the real deal.” And he kisses me again, stealing every bit of my air away. When he finally breaks the kiss off, I run my fingers over his lips.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why I didn’t jump at the chance to go out with you? What the hell was wrong with me?” Then I realize I’m sounding stupid and I’ve said the words out loud. I need to shut my mouth before I scare the poor man away.

“That’s why I had that goal, Cate.”

“I have a confession to make,” I say, as we start walking again.

“Yeah?”

“I tripped on purpose. I wanted an excuse to touch you.”

He stops, and faces me.

“Seriously?”

I nod and he kisses me again. “I knew when I saw you at that party, we were going to click.” Soon, the Union looms in front of us and I’m suddenly nervous. What if we get naked? Oh, no! I haven’t done any muffin-scaping. No shaving or waxing. Nada! I look like an overgrown grizzly down below. Oh fuck! What am I going to do? This is so unexpected; I never imagined we’d get past dinner! Maybe I can sneak into the bathroom and use his razor. But then I look at his face and remember he’s sporting a bit of scruff, so I doubt he even brought one for the night. Shit-doodle.

“What is it? Please don’t say you’re having second thoughts. I promise Cate, we can just sit and talk. I only want to spend time with you.”

“I know. I trust you, Drew.” And oddly enough, I do.

As my thoughts travel back to the possibilities, it comes to me. I can say I don’t get naked ever on first dates. Yes. That’s it. Perfectly reasonable and acceptable. We make it to his room and he asks if I care for something to drink. I ask for a water. In minutes, one is in my hand, which I greedily drink.

The way he stares at me, I’m guessing he knows I’m nervous.

“You have regrets, don’t you?”

I shake my head. “It’s not that.”

“Please tell me. I don’t want anything to weigh on your mind.”

My stupid, stupid mouth blurts right out, “I look like an overgrown grizzly below the waist.”

“Huh?”

I suppose being a man, he just doesn’t understand. So I raise my index finger and then aim it directly between my thighs.

It’s obvious when the light bulb goes on because he smiles. Hugely. “It’s fine. I didn’t plan on us getting naked, anyway.”

Okay, so I just told him my deepest darkest most humiliating secret—well almost most humiliating—for nothing? I embarrassed myself to death, for no purpose whatsoever? I want to crawl in a hole and die. I do the only thing I know. I grab the nearest pillow and bury my face in it. The most beautiful man I’ve ever met, with the most gorgeous eyes on the planet, sits before me, and I just told him that my muffin looks like Sasquatch. This goes down as the most humiliating moment of my life, replacing the dickwad. I will never live this down. Ever.