“Okay. I’ll pick you up at noon?”
“Thank you, Dylan.” I heard the sincerity and relief in her voice, and I was glad I could give her that, but I wished I knew why.
We continued talking for another half hour or so, light small talk, and it was easy again. I couldn’t quite figure her out yet, but one thing I knew for certain was I enjoyed talking to her more than I’d enjoyed talking to any other woman before.
8
Juliette
Ipaced around my small living room, rearranging the framed photos on my bookshelves. One of Nicky, Jenna, and me at our college graduation, and another of us at Nicky’s house on New Year’s Eve a few years ago. My sister, Audrey, and me laughing during what was supposed to be a formal picture. Mom chose another one for the holiday cards, but this was my favorite of us. Audrey was three years older, but we looked like twins in this picture with our identical smiles.
I paced back into my bedroom and smoothed out the already straight blanket. I checked myself out in the mirror again. The dark bootcut jeans, black ankle boots, and flowy black top was my favorite outfit. I’d tried on and discarded half the contents of my closet before coming back to my classic look. I looked carefully to make sure there were no stains on the clothes. No food in my teeth. My hair wasn’t frizzy. My makeup was all still on. I looked alright.
I returned to the living room and rearranged the throw pillows. With nothing left to do, I sat on the edge of the couch, stared at the clock, and prepared what to say. I’d never really opened up to anyone about having dyspraxia before, except Jenna and Nicky, and they were easy to talk to. I’d made a few self-deprecating jokes at work, but never discussed it in any real way.
I’d dated my first boyfriend, Matt, during college, and I didn’t even know all the ways dyspraxia affected me then. Then there was Jake who dismissed it as excuses, so I’d stopped talking to him about it. Although I hadn’t known Dylan long, I could already tell it would be different with him. It was obvious that he was trying to put me at ease but didn’t know how, so if I didn’t tell him, the blame would be on me.
Five minutes before noon, the buzzer sounded. I ran to the door and pushed the button to grant Dylan access into the building. Even though I knew it was coming, I still jumped at the sound of his knock on the door. I opened it and froze at the sight of him. I knew he was ridiculously good looking, but wow. His biceps and pecs were defined even through his black t-shirt and those bulging muscles had me wishing to be wrapped in his arms. His smile was sexy as anything, with his straight white teeth and the most kissable lips.
“Hi.” He smiled as though he could read my thoughts.
I felt myself flush as I stepped back to let him in. “Welcome. Uh, thanks for coming,” I spluttered. My face heated even more at my awkwardness.
He took a step in and reached back to lock the door behind him. “Juls,” he whispered, his deep brown eyes softening as they latched onto mine. Without breaking eye contact, he grazed his fingertips down my jaw, sending tingles through my body. The hand that cupped my cheek was so big it reached from myhairline to my jaw. I couldn’t help but lean into his strength, his warmth.
“I’ve been picturing your beautiful face for days, but you’re even prettier than I remembered. I’m so happy to see you again.” Still holding and caressing my face, his thumb teasing the edge of my lips, he leaned down and pressed a soft, warm kiss to my other cheek, and I nearly melted into a puddle of goo at his feet.
My heart pounded, butterflies waged war in my stomach, and I couldn’t quite decide if it was a good feeling or not. I was happy to see him, relieved that he seemed as happy to see me, nervous for the talk I had planned, excited and nervous for our date, and so freaking turned on I didn’t know what to do with the heat that throbbed through my body. It was too much.
And that was after only a minute with him, from a small, sweet gesture. How was I going to have any control around this man?
“Do you want to come in and see my apartment? I can get you a drink?”
“I’d love to see your place, and then let’s go bowl.”
I walked him through the living room, and now that it was cleaner than usual, I admired it a little myself. The neutral colors and soft textures successfully gave it the homey, earthy, comfortable feel I was going for.
The kitchen off to the left was mostly white with a few vintage green accents to tie it together, like the tea kettle I rarely used, because let’s face it, the microwave was easier.
Should I show him my bedroom too? “The bedroom and bathroom are down there,” I said, indicating the short hallway, wondering if he’d take the lead.
He made a hum of acknowledgment as he looked down the hall, but made no move towards it. Instead, he looked at the pictures and books on my shelves for a moment before turning back to me.
“It’s beautiful, Juls, and it fits you.”
I felt the flush in my cheeks as pride filled me.
“Are you ready to go bowling?”
“Uh, yeah. I just need to grab my bag, and um...”
“What is it?”
“Can we go for a drive and talk in the car before we go to the bowling alley?”
He looked at me sharply. “You want to talk?”
I nodded.