Eleanor: Hey! Are you around?
Me: Sure am. How are you? I missed chatting with you last night.
Look at me, cutting right to the chase and letting her know how I feel. Pretty sure I’m turning into an adult.
Eleanor: Oh. Yeah. I had plans last night.
Me: A date?
She goes silent for at least a minute, and I wonder if she’s trying to come up with the right thing to say.
Eleanor: A blind double date actually. My friend is on Rate a Date too, and she set me up on a date with this guy who’s friends with the man she’s been talking to.
Jealousy streaks through me, hot and quick. I tamp the feeling back.
Me: How did it go?
Eleanor: It was…oh God, it was so awful. But not necessarily for me. More for my friend.
Jealousy is now raining down upon me, making me tense. Am I wasting my time here? Is she about to tell me she’s not interested after all? That she’s met the love of her life and while yeah, it’s been great, I live too far and we’re done?
Shit, my imagination is getting the best of me. I decide to ask her what I need to know.
Me: Are you friend zoning me?
Eleanor: Wait, what? NO! There’s so much I need to tell you about this date and how much of a disaster it was, but I’d be typing all night. There’s too much to say.
Ah, this is almost too easy for me to make my suggestion.
Me: We should FaceTime then.
She goes quiet again. I might’ve sent her into a panic. I’ve noticed it’s pretty easy to do that.
Eleanor: Right now?
Me: No, two weeks from now.
More silence.
Me: Yes of course right now. You got an iPhone?
Eleanor: Yes.
Me: Give me your number.
Within a minute of her sending her number to me, I’m calling her via FaceTime. It rings so many times, I’m afraid she’s not going to answer but at the last minute, there she is.
In the flesh, via my phone screen.
I can’t help but smile.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” She waves. Laughs. Her cheeks turn pink. Her blonde hair is piled on top of her head in this cute sloppy bun, and she’s wearing giant silver hoops that are very, very thin. The white V-neck T-shirt she’s wearing is oversized, meaning it keeps slipping off her shoulder, offering me a glimpse of her pale pink bra strap.
Oh, and her generous cleavage is flashing me from the deep V of her neckline too.
My dick twitches and I mentally tell it to calm down. I’m horny as fuck because I haven’t had sex with a woman in weeks. Maybe a month? Aaah, maybe longer.
“So tell me what happened,” I say, and when she frowns, I continue, “With your date last night.”
She sighs. “Okay. This is going to take a while, so excuse me if I ramble.”
“Go for it.” I like her voice. It’s sweet and light and cute.
“My friend met a guy on the app and she really liked him. He has a friend he wanted to set me up with, so Kelsey—that’s my friend—asked if I wanted to go on a double date with them. I was kind of reluctant because I don’t know this guy, right? Plus, I’ve been talking to you.”
“Right.” I like that she thought of me. It means she might do that. A lot.
Kind of like I think about her. A lot.
“Anyway, turns out the guy she was talking to was a bit of a jerk. I think he was drinking too much that night and was trying to show off. And the man they set me up with, he just got out of a long-term relationship. He was engaged to her, and I’m pretty sure it was a messy ending. Kelsey got mad at her date after he insulted me and we walked out together,” Eleanor explains.
“Sounds complicated.” I’m not even sure exactly what happened, but I’m glad it was a flop.
“Here’s the thing. Theodore, the guy they set me up with? He’s very nice. And he’s an investment manager at one of the local banks here. He was full of good financial advice. I think I’m going to make an appointment to meet with him. He gave me his business card,” she says.
“Ah, so you do like him.”
“Not like that! He was very nice. I could see us being friends, but that’s it.” She leans in closer, giving me an even better shot of her shadowy cleavage, and I let my gaze linger there. Those tits are definitely more than a handful. “It’s so nice to see your face!”
Wariness hits me and I realize I didn’t even think about her recognizing me. I’ve never once mentioned what I actually do. She thinks I work in fitness, which is the vaguest answer ever. And maybe that’s why I’m enjoying these moments with Eleanor. She doesn’t care if I’m a professional football player or not. She just likes me for…
Me.
“It’s nice to see your face too,” I tell her, my voice soft. I clear my throat, not wanting to sound too much like a sap. “Did you work today?”
She nods. “It was so busy. One client after the other. My feet are killing me.”
“If I were there with you, I’d give you a foot massage.”
“That sounds like heaven,” she says with a little sigh.
That sigh goes straight to my dick.
Down, boy.
“When do you move again?” she asks.
“Mid next week,” I answer as I pick up the phone, flip the camera and do a sweep of my living room. “As you can see, I’m not even close to being packed up.”
There are empty boxes scattered around, not a one of them full of anything.
“You don’t have much furniture. No pictures on the wall. No knickknacks on your bookshelves,” she points out.
“I’m not home much. And those aren’t bookshelves.” I do a slow scan over the shelves that flank either side of the big-screen TV that hangs on the wall. “Those are video game shelves.”
She laughs. “You do own a lot of video games.”
“And those are the old ones. I’m downloading most of the newer games now,” I explain.
I go on about my favorite video games and she listens and nods, asking questions at the right spots. Like she’s actually interested. She tells me about a few of her clients today. How she did hair for a bridal party and the bride was so demanding.
“Are you doing your friend’s hair when she gets married?” I ask.
“I am, but she won’t be a total diva. Caroline isn’t like that,” she says.
“And you’re still coming to Vegas for her bachelorette weekend, right?” I keep my voice even, as if my question is no big deal.
But it’s a huge deal. If she comes to Vegas, I want to see her. In person. I want to smell her. Touch her. I am totally thinking ahead here, and rushing the game, but just talking to her like this has me feeling antsy. Eager.
Ready to see her.
“I am! Next weekend.” She smiles prettily. “You’ll be living in Vegas by then.”
“Yeah, I will.” Next weekend. The timing couldn’t be better. Almost like our meeting is meant to be.
“Did you still maybe want to…meet up?” she asks hopefully.
“Yeah. I’d love to,” I say without hesitation.
“Good.” She smiles, and I swear her eyes are glowing. Her cheeks are pink, and she’s just radiating light. Is that because she’s pleased with the thought of us meeting in person? Or is she sitting under a really flattering lamp right now? “Maybe I can introduce you to my friends.”