Page 115 of Curvy Girl Summer

“Ol’ tabernacle-ministries-looking ass.”

We both burst out laughing.

He rested his hands flat on the bar and leaned toward me. “You’re so fucking childish,” he told me, eyes dancing.

“Not the man in the child-size shirt calling me childish.”

“That’s rich coming from the woman in the onesie,” he joked.

I looked down at my romper and bit my lip to keep from laughing. “You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?”

“You want to laugh so bad.”

“No.” My shoulders shook as I denied it. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, okay.” He grabbed the empty crate and hoisted it on his shoulder. “I can tell when your eyes do that little twitchy thing that you’re trying not to laugh.”

“Stop studying my face and mind your business!” I called out to him as he walked away.

He disappeared around a corner, and I shifted my gaze to the mirror, noticing the smile plastered on my face. I looked as giddy as I felt. Shaking my head, I looked down at my phone. Punching my code to unlock it, I viewed the unread text message waiting for me.

Nina:I hope your date goes well! If you’re feeling the effects of the drought, I won’t judge you if you fuck him.

Aaliyah:I’m not going to fuck him! I don’t know him!

Nina:Well, the last time you hit your sex-drought threshold, you fucked Matthew, so…

Aaliyah:Please don’t remind me. I will never hit that point again. Besides, I handled my own business, and I think I’m cool.

Nina:Well, if the date doesn’t work out and you do need a release, there’s always the bartender…

“What’s the deal? What’s the real reason you want a boyfriend by your birthday?” Ahmad asked just as I was about to text back.

Quickly locking my phone to blacken the screen, I looked up at him. “Huh?”

“You heard me.” He smirked. “What’s the real reason you want a boyfriend for your birthday?”

Shifting my eyes away from him, I licked my lips. “Because I want to celebrate in a very specific way.”

“Mm-hmm.”

His snarky intonation caused me to grin.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “So, who is it that we’re meeting for this date tonight?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but he interrupted me.

“Let me guess…” He cocked his head to the side. “A dude with an ultra-perm?”

“What? An ultra-perm?” I snorted at the way he said it.

“An ultra-perm is—”

“I’ve seenComing to America,” I interrupted, rolling my eyes. “I know what an ultra-perm is. I want to know why that would be your guess.”

“I haven’t gotten a solid read on what your type is because they’ve all looked different. You had that short one—”

“He wasn’t short,” I argued, knowing exactly which one he was talking about.

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