Fling
Page 17
He nods. “She’s cute.”
“Her name is Jennifer and she’s in her final year of law school—and I happen to know she’s single. You should introduce yourself, offer to give her tips on studying for the bar exam.”
“You think?” he asks, but he’s perked up.
“Yes. Go for it.”
“You know what? I think I will. Thanks, Sandra!”
“A word of advice though, don’t lead with asking her if she’s going to have sex with you.”
Dave gives me a rueful nod, then heads over to try his luck with Jennifer as the processional music snafu is resolved. The wedding planner regains control, giving everyone their instructions for tomorrow while my mind wanders. I think about the advice I just gave Dave and wonder if it doesn’t apply to me as well. I just laughed in Dave’s face for so boldly propositioning me, but didn’t I do the same thing to Gabe? With the sex quiz? Obviously I didn’t mean for him to see it, but he saw it all the same. And that stupid quiz was not much more than a blatant proposition.
We do another walk-through before she’s satisfied that we’ve mastered the correct way to enter and exit the ceremony and the rehearsal is officially over. The group moves to the church vestibule, everyone chatting about the weather and the best route to tonight’s dinner for the bridal party and family. Dave and Jennifer have definitely hit it off, I note with a smile as I’m buttoning my coat. They’ve been chatting non-stop for the past thirty minutes, smiling the entire time.
We’re exiting the church when I realize my scarf is missing, so I run back to see if I dropped it somewhere inside the church. I locate it under the pew where we casually dropped our coats during the run-through and loop it around my neck, then head back to the vestibule. Everyone is gone. What the heck? I was gone for two minutes. I refrain from rolling my eyes inside of a church and push open the door and step into the freezing January chill while scanning the parking lot for Dave’s car.
I make it to the top step before I see the white Tesla idling at the bottom of the steps. Before I see Gabe leaning against it. Before my heart skips two beats.
He’s here for me? He’s here for me. You do not crash a wedding rehearsal you were not invited to unless you really like someone. Right? I bite my lip and grab the handrail as he bounds up the steps and stops on the step below mine so we’re eye to eye.
“Why are you here?” I blurt out. Smooth, Sandra. But I need to hear the words.
“I heard you were here.”
“You came for me?”
“Is that okay?” He cocks an eyebrow when he says it, all confidence that my answer will be yes.
“Yeah.” I finally grin. “It is.”
“I think you have a rehearsal dinner to get to?”
“Oh, right.” I snap out of it and look around to see Dave putting Jennifer into the passenger seat of his car and giving me a thumbs up.
“I told him I’d drive you,” Gabe says, seeing where my attention has gone.
“You want to drive me to the rehearsal dinner?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” I trail off, unsure what that means exactly.
“I want to go with you too, if that’s okay.”
“That’s okay.” I smile. “But people from work will be there.” It’s a statement, but my tone conveys that it’s really a question.
“Is that a problem?” he asks, frowning.
“No. It’s not a problem for me.”
“Good.”
I tilt my head and look at him, trying to get a better read on if it’s a problem for him.
“I want you to give me a chance, Sandra. And your phone number. I want you to give me your phone number,” he adds with a self-deprecating smile. “I should have your phone number, but I don’t because I’m a fool. And I want to fix that. And I don’t care who sees me trying to fix that. So let me take you to this rehearsal dinner tonight. And the wedding tomorrow. And next weekend, let me take you on a date I actually pay for.”
“I like you, Gabe.”
He smiles. “I like you too, Sandra.”
“Good.”
“Good,” he says and leans in closer, our lips inches apart, then stops. “I’m going to kiss you now, unless you have any other objections?”
“No,” I respond, flustered. “I mean yes—”
Then I cut myself off and just kiss him.
I think I got it.
Epilogue
You know what today is, don’t you?” “Hmmm.” I tap my fingertips on Gabe’s bare chest. “Wednesday?” I guess, tilting my head back to look at him.
“No. Well, yes, but not what I’m getting at.”
“Today is March twenty-third?” I try again.
“Also accurate, but wrong.”
I frown and turn my head to rest my chin on his chest. “How can something be both accurate and wrong?”
“Factually correct, but not the answer I’m looking for.”
“Okay.” I shrug. “What’s today?”
“Our anniversary,” he says with a grin.
Um, is it? I rack my brain thinking of what he’s using as a benchmark. The first time we had sex? Our first real date? I’m not following him.
“The quarterly meeting is today,” he says with a sly wink and a laugh.
I slap a hand across my eyes and groan. “That is not our anniversary date. No way.”
“Sure it is. That sex quiz deserves to be celebrated quarterly,” he says as he flips me over and pins my hands over my head. He likes to pin me down when he knows I’m going to blush so I can’t cover my face.
“Stop.” I laugh, turning my head away.
“I cannot believe you’re still blushing over that note,” he says, moving both of my hands into one of his so he can grasp my jaw with the other and turn me towards him.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
“You know I can still see you, right?” He releases my chin to trail his hand lower while pressing his lips to my neck.
“Her name is Jennifer and she’s in her final year of law school—and I happen to know she’s single. You should introduce yourself, offer to give her tips on studying for the bar exam.”
“You think?” he asks, but he’s perked up.
“Yes. Go for it.”
“You know what? I think I will. Thanks, Sandra!”
“A word of advice though, don’t lead with asking her if she’s going to have sex with you.”
Dave gives me a rueful nod, then heads over to try his luck with Jennifer as the processional music snafu is resolved. The wedding planner regains control, giving everyone their instructions for tomorrow while my mind wanders. I think about the advice I just gave Dave and wonder if it doesn’t apply to me as well. I just laughed in Dave’s face for so boldly propositioning me, but didn’t I do the same thing to Gabe? With the sex quiz? Obviously I didn’t mean for him to see it, but he saw it all the same. And that stupid quiz was not much more than a blatant proposition.
We do another walk-through before she’s satisfied that we’ve mastered the correct way to enter and exit the ceremony and the rehearsal is officially over. The group moves to the church vestibule, everyone chatting about the weather and the best route to tonight’s dinner for the bridal party and family. Dave and Jennifer have definitely hit it off, I note with a smile as I’m buttoning my coat. They’ve been chatting non-stop for the past thirty minutes, smiling the entire time.
We’re exiting the church when I realize my scarf is missing, so I run back to see if I dropped it somewhere inside the church. I locate it under the pew where we casually dropped our coats during the run-through and loop it around my neck, then head back to the vestibule. Everyone is gone. What the heck? I was gone for two minutes. I refrain from rolling my eyes inside of a church and push open the door and step into the freezing January chill while scanning the parking lot for Dave’s car.
I make it to the top step before I see the white Tesla idling at the bottom of the steps. Before I see Gabe leaning against it. Before my heart skips two beats.
He’s here for me? He’s here for me. You do not crash a wedding rehearsal you were not invited to unless you really like someone. Right? I bite my lip and grab the handrail as he bounds up the steps and stops on the step below mine so we’re eye to eye.
“Why are you here?” I blurt out. Smooth, Sandra. But I need to hear the words.
“I heard you were here.”
“You came for me?”
“Is that okay?” He cocks an eyebrow when he says it, all confidence that my answer will be yes.
“Yeah.” I finally grin. “It is.”
“I think you have a rehearsal dinner to get to?”
“Oh, right.” I snap out of it and look around to see Dave putting Jennifer into the passenger seat of his car and giving me a thumbs up.
“I told him I’d drive you,” Gabe says, seeing where my attention has gone.
“You want to drive me to the rehearsal dinner?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” I trail off, unsure what that means exactly.
“I want to go with you too, if that’s okay.”
“That’s okay.” I smile. “But people from work will be there.” It’s a statement, but my tone conveys that it’s really a question.
“Is that a problem?” he asks, frowning.
“No. It’s not a problem for me.”
“Good.”
I tilt my head and look at him, trying to get a better read on if it’s a problem for him.
“I want you to give me a chance, Sandra. And your phone number. I want you to give me your phone number,” he adds with a self-deprecating smile. “I should have your phone number, but I don’t because I’m a fool. And I want to fix that. And I don’t care who sees me trying to fix that. So let me take you to this rehearsal dinner tonight. And the wedding tomorrow. And next weekend, let me take you on a date I actually pay for.”
“I like you, Gabe.”
He smiles. “I like you too, Sandra.”
“Good.”
“Good,” he says and leans in closer, our lips inches apart, then stops. “I’m going to kiss you now, unless you have any other objections?”
“No,” I respond, flustered. “I mean yes—”
Then I cut myself off and just kiss him.
I think I got it.
Epilogue
You know what today is, don’t you?” “Hmmm.” I tap my fingertips on Gabe’s bare chest. “Wednesday?” I guess, tilting my head back to look at him.
“No. Well, yes, but not what I’m getting at.”
“Today is March twenty-third?” I try again.
“Also accurate, but wrong.”
I frown and turn my head to rest my chin on his chest. “How can something be both accurate and wrong?”
“Factually correct, but not the answer I’m looking for.”
“Okay.” I shrug. “What’s today?”
“Our anniversary,” he says with a grin.
Um, is it? I rack my brain thinking of what he’s using as a benchmark. The first time we had sex? Our first real date? I’m not following him.
“The quarterly meeting is today,” he says with a sly wink and a laugh.
I slap a hand across my eyes and groan. “That is not our anniversary date. No way.”
“Sure it is. That sex quiz deserves to be celebrated quarterly,” he says as he flips me over and pins my hands over my head. He likes to pin me down when he knows I’m going to blush so I can’t cover my face.
“Stop.” I laugh, turning my head away.
“I cannot believe you’re still blushing over that note,” he says, moving both of my hands into one of his so he can grasp my jaw with the other and turn me towards him.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
“You know I can still see you, right?” He releases my chin to trail his hand lower while pressing his lips to my neck.
