Page 17 of Vince
Vince
From the momentI’ve picked up Sydney, I’ve been enamored by her. Not only can she bake, but the more I learn about her, the more I like. She’s smart, funny, and full of life. Even when she’s telling me about drunken patrons, she’s so vibrant in the way she describes them. I can’t help but wish I’d seen it in person for myself.
When Sydney suggests getting off the freeway a few exits before the venue, I know just where to take her. “Are you interested in Thai?”
“Sure. Sounds great,” she replies eagerly.
I quickly parallel park in a spot on the same block as the restaurant. As soon as I know it’s clear, I hop out of the car and rush to her side just as she opens the door for herself. Damn. I need to be quicker.
I do manage to hold my hand out to hers to assist her down. The moment our skin touches, electricity crackles all around us. The air is charged as I close the door behind her. Not wanting to let go just yet, I keep a hold of her hand as we walk down the block toward the restaurant. The way our fingers naturally intertwine, it’s as if we’ve been doing this for years, rather than for our first date.
Sydney’s quiet as we wait to be seated. I can see the wheels turning in her head, and I’d give almost anything to know what she’s thinking. When she rolls her bottom lip into her mouth to chew on it, I can’t take it any longer. Leaning in, I whisper, “Penny for your thoughts?”
When her eyes meet mine, they’re dancing with mischief. “Quarter for your underwear?” rolls off her tongue with ease.
What?
Did she really just say that?
She rolls her beautiful green eyes as she giggles. “Ohmigod, Vince. I’m kidding. You should’ve seen the look on your face. Seriously. I was just trying to break the ice—obviously, it was stupid. I’m so sorry.” She shakes her head then shrugs. “I’m sometimes a smartass when I get nervous, and I didn’t mean to make things weird.”
I replay her explanation in my head to make sure I heard it right. The minute she started talking about underwear, my mind went right into the gutter. But what hits home is that she’s nervous. From all my interactions with her—I didn’t think she had a nervous bone in her body. Hmmm—she’s always so confident. So, I gotta know. “What’s making you nervous?”
“You are.”
“Me? What have I done to make you nervous?” I rack my brain thinking about my actions. But I come up blank.
She bites her bottom lip as she looks to the floor. But I wait her out and eventually, the strong woman I’ve been attracted to from the beginning looks me boldly in the eye as she shrugs. “I have no idea. I just got nervous for some reason.”
“Well…” I draw out slowly, wondering how to go back to the comfortable and carefree girl from before. My eyes go to our locked hands, and my thoughts are said aloud, “Does holding my hand make you nervous?” I start pulling away, but she tightens her grip.
“No—it’s not that. I’m just being stupid. Trust me. I like holding your hand. Please… forget I said anything.” The hostess tells us our table is ready, and Sydney refuses to let go of my hand as we follow her to our table. Unfortunately, I have to let go to pull out her chair, then go around to my side of the table.
Without saying anything, she reaches her hand across the table. When I return the gesture by placing mine in hers, she squeezes reassuringly. “Sorry, Vince. I’m having a great time. Please don’t let me being a smartass ruin our evening.”
Wanting to put things at ease as well as to speak from the heart, I find myself saying, “I love that you say what’s on your mind. Please—never hold back. I’d rather know what you’re thinking—even if itisabout my underwear.”
This has its desired effect.
She blushes the most beautiful shade of red, and her freckles stand out against her skin in contrast. “I’ll have you know I’m a boxer-brief guy… if that makes it easier.”
What the actual fuck? Why did I just say that?
“Good to know.” She lets go of my hand to pick up a menu. “Have you been here before?”
“Only once, but I remember the peanut sauce being the best I’ve ever had. So, it’ll definitely be part of my order.”
“Ohhhh… that sounds great. I’ll do the same.”
Okay, let’s hope this awkwardness is behind us.
Though now that she’s mentioned underwear, I’m curious as to what she’s wearing under her perfectly fitting jeans.
Thankfully, Sydney’s nerves disperse, and the rest of dinner goes off without a hitch. By the time we get to the concert, there’s plenty of time to walk around. Knowing things will be sold out later, she opts to buy a vintage-looking t-shirt of the band Riser, and I pick up a different version for myself to remember the occasion. Normally, I don’t buy anything at concerts, but rumor has it this might be the last time they’re on tour for a while. Even though they’re a local band, it’s been said the lead singer wants to take some time off to be with his family. I can’t say I blame him. Family is everything.
When Sydney leads us to our seats, I’m shocked. “Wow! How did you score these seats?” I ask as we make our way down the middle of the third row back from the stage.
“Oh, I won them from a contest on campus. So, don’t worry about repaying me.”
