Due to his answer, and how much I liked it, I put my glass down and threw myself at him.
Eric caught me.
We went at it awhile, and it was even better because I got my hands on his tight ass, and he got his hands on my not-so-tight one.
Then my phone timer went, telling me I needed to get started on the salad.
Our mouths unmeshed, but Eric didn’t let me go very far, and he did this by catching the back of my head in his hand as I angled it away.
Mm.
My guy had all the smooth moves.
“We’re not done talking about that guy,” he warned.
“He doesn’t matter.”
“When were you over?”
“I don’t know for sure, but at least two years ago.”
“So the wuss-ass knows he fucked it, and he’s such a wuss-ass, he can’t figure out how to unfuck it, and he’s staying in your orbit, hoping you’ll do the unfucking for him.”
“He doesn’t give off that vibe, Eric.”
“How long did it take you to catchmyvibe?”
Oof!
Another point to ponder.
I bit my lip.
He watched me bite my lip and whispered, “Yeah.”
“I need to make salad. There’s lots to chop and slice. So I need to get on that and reset the timer for the pastitsio.”
There wasn’t a lot to chop and slice. Just an onion and a cucumber. I didn’t like tomatoes, so I got those baby ones because I knew from his food orders at SC that Eric did like them. But with the baby ones, I could eat around them without any of their slimy juice wrecking my Greek salad jam.
But I did need to reset the timer for the pastitsio.
“Not my place to say, but you should make things clear to him, Jess,” Eric advised.
“It isn’t your place to say?” I asked.
“Are we there?” he asked back.
Did that mean he thought we weren’t, or that he just didn’t know if we were?
I mean, my car was in his garage, and he liked it there.
“Did you pack a bag?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Then we’re there. So it is my place to say. As such, I’d appreciate it if you made it clear to him next time he comes in, Jess.”
I had warm fuzzies it was his place to say, so I smiled and said, “All righty then.”