Page 68 of Confessions of a Virgin on a Dating App
Devin picked up a piece of pita bread, giving me a suspicious glare as he held it above the dip.
“Go on,” I taunted. “It’s not like I’m trying to poison you.”
He laughed, dipping the bread in and taking a large bite. He chewed for a few moments, his face quizzical as he wondered what sort of strange food I was having him try.
“That’s pretty good,” he commented. “It’s…sour. What is it?”
I giggled. Devin rolled his eyes.
“C’mon, what is it?”
“It’s fish eggs.”
Devin’s eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, really?”
“Yup.”
“It doesn’t taste like it,” he pulled out his phone, and I knew he was looking it up. “Damn, you’re right. Huh.”
“I took Cass here once. I told her what it was, and she wouldn’t touch it.”
Devin shrugged as he grabbed another piece of pita bread. “I’ll eat anything. Especially seafood. That’s another thing about me: in addition to his church activities, my dad loved fishing. In his free time, he was always fixing up boats. I was his helper from the time I could walk.”
“Wow. So you grew up out on the water?”
“Yup.” He took another bite of pita bread. “Every family vacation revolved around the boat. Even today, being out by the water brings me so much inner peace. I miss the beach. I haven’t been out there in months. Which is funny, because I sunburn in like five minutes.”
“I love the beach.” The thought of soft, warm sand under my feet as the shoreline lapped at my toes caused a wave of pleasure to wash over me.
“We’ll have to go sometime,” Devin smiled as he finished off the last of our appetizer.
I loved that idea. Spending a sunny afternoon out by the water with someone who I cared so deeply about sounded heavenly. And this time, there would be no fear, no anxiety, no impending worry for what was to come that night. I had never been on a date with someone who made me feel so free. So much like myself.
Someone who took my worries and insecurities away with a single adoring smile.
Our food arrived, and we spent the next ten minutes alternating between eating and engaging in more conversation. I learned all the little details about Devin. He was the youngest of four siblings, and the only boy. He was left-handed, something I’d noticed while he held his fork. His natural hair color was a dark chocolate brown, and hegriped about how annoying hair dye could be while I giggled. When he was younger, he used to wear eyeliner and paint his nails black, although he fell out of many of his goth tendencies as he got older.
Which made a question pop into my head. One that was awkward to ask, but was one that I needed to know.
“Uh, Dev?”
“Yes?”
“Exactly how…uh, how old are you?”
Devin stifled a laugh, which turned into a cough as he chewed his food. “Yeah, I knew that question was going to come up. You’re what, twenty-seven?”
“Almost. My birthday is next month.”
“Oh damn, what day?”
“The tenth.”
Devin’s eyes widened. “Shit, that’s just a few weeks away. I need to start planning.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Oh hush,” he laughed, placing his fork on the table. He leaned back in his chair. “Well, I am quite a bit older than you.”
