Chapter Six
Dean
So I went to Delivery’s for breakfast. And you weren’t joking about that food.
I sent off the text message to Ivy before I climbed out of bed. My last day off before I had to get back to work. I’d woken up and driven all the way out to the diner to have some pancakes and eggs, and the food was incredible. I ended up ordering another entire plate of french toast and bacon and still ordered some soup to take with me.
The place was fantastic, and I had a feeling I’d found a new spot to eat.
I slipped into the shower after getting back into my apartment and cleaned myself down from the dreams I’d had of her the night before. Those pillowy lips and that crooked little grin. Her long legs wrapped around my waist as I pinned her to my bed. I shook the thoughts from my mind and turned off the shower, then reached for a towel and wrapped it around myself.
Then, I heard my phone vibrate against my bed.
It’s incredible food. And now that you’ve mentioned it, I’ll have to go there for lunch. So thanks for that.
I grinned at her message and quickly responded.
There are worse things to do with your lunch hour. Are you working today?
I slipped into some comfortable clothes before my phone vibrated again.
Not one ounce of work. Your text message actually woke me up.
I frowned at her message and quickly responded.
Didn’t mean to do that. Did you stay out late partying last night?
It took her a little while to respond and I grew nervous. Had she gone out last night? Was she with another man? I didn’t know why that bothered me as much as it did, but it sent a sense of urgency running through my veins. She was a beautiful woman, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only man eyeing her at the fashion show the night before. Did she expect me to take her out after that fashion show? Was that something I should’ve done?
My phone vibrated and I couldn’t answer it fast enough.
Never been a late-night partying gal. I’m just lazy.
Relief coursed through my veins as my fingers flew across the keyboard.
Lazy is not the word that comes to mind when I think of you.
So you’ve been thinking of me?
Her response was quick. Which meant she was waiting for my responses like I was for hers. And I liked that idea.
Her sitting there waiting for me to respond.
You could call it that.
What else would you call it?
Thinking and dreaming are interchangeable in this context.
So you were dreaming of me last night? I must’ve made a decent impression.
You’re beautiful, intelligent, talented, and kind. Decent isn’t the word I would use, either.
Such a sticker for correction. I take it you like having control?
I grinned at her message and waited a few beats before I responded.
You have no idea.
I set my phone down and took the trash out. I did have a few things that needed to happen around the apartment. My fridge had to be cleaned out because I was sure some takeout in there had gotten pushed to the back. There were a few dishes in the sink that needed to be washed and I needed to put in a maintenance request for my air conditioning to be looked at. I threw open all the windows to let the summer breeze in before I took the trash down to the compactor, then I popped my head into the front office and put in a formal maintenance request.
I came back up to a message from Ivy that made me smile from ear to ear.
Does that mean you’re going to give me an idea?
Oh, this woman was bad. And I loved it. Most women were afraid of their sexuality. Most women wanted to portray this facade of innocence. Which worked for most men, because there seemed to be this fetish when it came to destroying innocence. Taking this white piece of flimsy fabric and rolling it around in the mud or some shit like that. But I wasn’t one of those men. I enjoyed a woman who knew what she wanted. Who was kind, but not naive. Who was caring, but not a doormat. A woman who didn’t mind taking what she wanted in the bedroom before allowing me to take care of her during the day in areas she couldn't service herself.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before I responded.
I believe that requires you to buy me dinner first.
Me? So I see we aren’t a traditionalist.
If you want me to give you an idea, then it’s only fair you pay. Now, if I want you to give me an idea of anything, then I pay for dinner. I initiate, I pay. You initiate, you pay.
Seems fair enough. I could bring over some french fries.
I laughed as I sat down onto my couch. I needed a new one soon. It groaned a little more than I liked underneath my weight, and if I wasn’t careful I’d go right through the damn thing one night after a long shift at work.
Make sure they’re sweet potato ones. I’m watching my figure.
You mean that burly chest and those massive shoulders of yours?
So you’ve been thinking about me, too.
It’s hard to forget you. My first impression of you was ‘professional elephant carrier’.
I threw my head back and laughed. That was usually the first thing that caught everyone’s attention. I’d always been big. The tallest one of the class, and then the broadest one of the class. I stuck with a strict gym routine not because I enjoyed it, but because a man with my kind of stature could easily become out of shape. With my broad shoulders and my barreled chest, my only two options were lots of muscle or lots of fat. And with my line of work, keeping myself at my healthiest was a priority.
But my massive existence came with a lot of comments from others as well.
I was thinking more ‘rhinocerous’, but ‘elephant’ works.
However, Ivy didn’t respond automatically.
I set my phone down and made my way for the kitchen. I threw some stuff away in the trash can and washed down the few dishes that were dirty. But once all of that was completed, my day was done. I could sit on the porch or go into town. Maybe turn on the television I had that never got used.
I could lay down and take a nap. But that seemed like such a waste of the time I had at my disposal.
Then, my phone vibrated again.
Sorry. A friend of mine popped by. Now what were we talking about? Carrying animals or food or something?
I think we were briefly addressing my stature, but I’d be more than willing to talk about yours.
Oh, really? That a topic you want to become an expert in?
I closed my eyes and ignored the pulse in my groin.
If you’re asking me how familiar I’d like to become with it, then my answer would be ‘very’.
Then it sounds like dinner’s on you this time around.
I see what you did there.
That’s good. A doctor with sight is a good thing.
Oh, she had a witty sense of humor. I really liked that. Her intelligence shone through with each message and it made me want to respond. She made me want to sit on my couch and talk with her. And that was exactly what I did. We talked all through the afternoon and into the evening. Two people punching away at their phones, attempting to make some sort of a connection. I wanted to call her and hear her voice. I wanted to allow that commanding tone of hers undergirded with breathless praise to waft down to my eardrum. Her voice was relaxing. Mesmerizing in a unique sort of way.
But she seemed comfortable enough with messaging back and forth, and I didn’t want to ruin what we’d already started.
So now that I’ve taken up the majority of your day, do you have any plans for your evening?
You haven't taken up anything. I was off work today and did nothing but clean up my place a bit.
A man that cleans? Wow, do you cook, too?
Unfortunately, that talent wasn’t passed on to me. Do you cook?
Oh, yes. My mother’s full-blooded Italian, and every Sunday dinner was home-cooked by her hands. She passed all her recipes down to me after she died.
I’m so sorry for your loss. What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.
It was a long time ago. Old age. My parents didn’t have me until they were in their forties.
I read that statement again before I chose how to respond.
Your mother sounds like a very strong woman.
She was, and I miss her greatly.
Is your father still alive?
He isn’t, no. It’s just me.
I read that statement over and over again before it hit me. This beautiful woman-- with a vibrant light in her eyes and a wit that could outmatch mine-- knew how I felt. Understood me on a level she wasn’t even aware of. My hands began to shake and I set the phone down as a wave of sorrow and shock crashed over my body. Never had I met someone who understood. Who got the true sense of loneliness I felt in the early morning hours laying in my bed at night after a long shift at the E.R.
But Ivy understood.
And something deep inside of me wanted her to know she wasn’t alone anymore, either.
If you ever want to talk about it, I understand. I lost my father and my siblings in a car crash a few years back, and my mother passed a couple of years ago due to her dementia.
I sat on pins and needles waiting for her response.
You don’t have any aunts or uncles?
I come from a long line of ‘only children’.
Me too.
Those two words. Sent through the ether, stretching out to descend into my phone. Those two words that ricocheted through my mind and sent a very unfamiliar sensation running through my veins.
‘Me too.’
Just throwing it out there, in case you ever want to talk.
I’m sorry. Forgive my silence. I just… I haven’t met anyone who…
But I got it.
I understood it more than even she could comprehend.
I know.
Two little words sent back that hopefully brought the same relief to her as her two words had to me.
I sat there on my couch as the day turned into night, talking back and forth to this wonderful woman. I learned so much about her in the short amount of time we talked, and the more I found out the more I wanted to dig into her. Settle next to her. Listen to the words coming from her. She was funny and intelligent. Light-hearted and passionate. She could talk about any topic thrown her way with an ease that wasn’t afforded to most individuals.
She was perfect.
And I couldn't wait to find the perfect opening to ask her out on a date.