Page 37 of Book Boyfriend
“I like the way you’re touching me. It’s making me want more. My hand trails down your stomach to the edge of your underwear.”
“Uh-huh . . .”
My phone beeps with another call. I lift it from my ear. In big letters I see the only name that could make this conversation end. Mom.
“Oh shit, Fisher. You’re not going to believe this, but my mom is calling on the other end. I’d ignore it, but she’s one of those people who’ll keep calling until I answer.”
He laughs. “Cock-blocked by Mom. Go answer. Tell her all about me and my tight ass. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“K. This was . . . fun.”
“Yeah. It was. Good night.”
“Good night.”
As I switch lines I suddenly feel like I got caught having sex in church. This call with my mom is about to be breathy and fifty shades of awkward. I miss him already. Uh-oh, that can’t be good.
I got to third base with Fisher last night. On the phone.
Our daily phone calls get hotter every time we talk. They never start out that way. We usually go through our days and then I find out a little something more about him.
So far I know he was a really good student in high school but didn’t have a lot of friends until he blossomed in his senior year. He was tall for his age when he was younger, but then he seemed to stop growing for a while. Then his acne cleared up, he grew six inches, and he started working out. He suddenly got way more popular. He played basketball for his first two years of high school but then switched to theater when a girl he liked tried out for the school play. The thing with the girl didn’t work out, but the acting did. He loved it and that’s when he decided it was all he ever wanted to do.
I find myself blushing at work and everywhere else when I think of him. I may talk a good game, but the truth is, I haven’t had a lot of sexual experience. I’ve only ever been with my ex-husband. I think we had good sex, but I have nothing to compare it to and that makes me a nervous wreck.
It’s Saturday today and all I know is he’s picking me up at seven. I already got a mani-pedi, but I can’t decide what to wear. I need to look my best. I even started wearing a T-shirt and underwear to bed so I didn’t feel like a liar. Last night, Fisher felt me up again for the first time since the beach.
I mean, I may have touched myself while he was talking, so it was kind of the same, but not really.
He was being secretive about where we were going, so I checked my book. At this point, Penn takes Kasey to a fancy restaurant he rented out for the night. Kasey gets all dressed up and a limo comes to get her. When she walks in, Penn is sitting at the piano and starts to play. He sings “Can’t Help Falling in Love” and that night he admits he’s in love with her.
I was a little worried Fisher was still following the book, but when he told me to dress casually, I’ll admit I sighed in relief. I don’t want to follow my book anymore. I want to get to know him forhim, not the guy he thinks I want him to be.
The fact I get to wear jeans and he’s picking me up himself makes me think I’ve finally gotten through to him.
I spent way too long getting ready. I finally settled on jeans and knee-high black boots, with a button-down black blouse. I’m going to wear a light cardigan-like sweater over it because these jeans are a little snug. If I eat too much, I may have to undo the top button and that wouldn’t be attractive at all. Hopefully, the sweater will help me in case I need to hide. Glamorous I am not.
It’s five after seven and I’ve been ready for forty-five minutes. I guess his being early at the airport was a one-time event. I start to worry he’s not coming when there’s a knock at my door.
Suddenly I’m more nervous than I’ve ever felt in my life. I’m confident on the phone but up close and personal is another story. On the phone, I can talk like I’m writing. In real life, in front of him, I feel like I have no words. Why is this guy so interested in me? It doesn’t make sense. He could have any girl he wanted. Why me?
I open the door to a bouquet of red roses and a smiling, panty-dropping Patrick Fisher. He’s wearing a white dress shirt, dark faded jeans, and a black suit coat. He looks like he stepped off a runway and I just walked out of Walmart.
His eyes say something very different. He stares at me like I look at a sale rack at Macy’s. “Wow. You’re beautiful.”
I roll my eyes as I take the flowers from his hand and he steps inside. “Thank you for these. You didn’t have to.”
“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to. And why did you roll your eyes at me?”
“It’s nothing. Come on in. Let me put these in water then we can go.”
He follows me to the kitchen. “It’s something or else it wouldn’t have happened. Tell me. Is it the flowers?”
“No. They’re perfect.”
“Is it because I’m a few minutes late?”
“No. I usually wait for everyone. I’m perpetually early, so I’ve grown accustomed to it.”
