Tegan

Perfection is a matter of personal definition, but by my standards, the night was perfect. As we’d chosen to walk, our dining options were limited. We agreed on a burger joint three blocks away.

The small establishment had a steady stream of patrons in and out, and a long line at the drive-thru, but the eight booths that were inside were occupied by no one other than us. The food was delicious, the atmosphere was nothing short of magnificent, and the discussions were, as always, entertaining.

In summation, I was in heaven.

I coughed a laugh, launching a sweet potato fry onto the table. “You did not!” I gasped.

I struggled to pick up the slippery spud. “Sorry.”

He chuckled a laugh at my antics. “I damned sure did.” He wiped his mouth, then nodded toward his lap. “From the waist down.”

I wrapped the half-eaten morsel in a napkin. “Naked? Right there in the store?”

“Didn’t have many options. She went to get the dressing room key and never came back. I had six minutes left.”

“Any reason you weren’t wearing underwear?”

“Be kind of tough. I don’t own any.”

I tried to imaging being a man and not wearing underwear. It was fascinating and disgusting at the same time. I imagined carrying a hot dog in my pants all day and gagged at the thought.

I pushed my plate to the side. “That’s funny. And, no one saw you?”

He shrugged. “If they did, they didn’t say anything.”

“Well, like I said earlier, I like both your choices. You look nice.”

“Thank you, so do you.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“Did you cut your hair?”

You noticed!

“Oh no. Not really. Marcus trimmed the tips just a little. Just kind of straightened things up.”

He picked through his French fries. “I really like it. Really like it.”

“Thank you.”

I had already spent the evening admiring him, but I did so just a little more. I tilted my head to the side and studied his handsome face. The transformation that he’d made was remarkable, and I found it difficult not to stare. When his eyes met mine, I looked away and hoped he had no idea how long I’d been sitting there gawking.

A small part of me worried that something drastic would happen and ruin everything, but I tried to keep from thinking about it. In life, I was naturally an optimist. With men, however, pessimism seemed to envelop my thoughts entirely.

He picked up a French fry and bit off the end. “You want to go to a movie?”

“If you do.”

“I really don’t care.”

I shrugged. “Me neither.”

I hadn’t been to a movie in forever. It sounded fun, but I really didn’t want to spend the majority of the night staring at a screen and not talking to him. I was enjoying myself.

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

I wanted to keep doing what we were doing. “I don’t care. You?”

“Just spend it with you, really.” He dropped the fry onto his plate. “We can do whatever.”

“If you weren’t with me what would you be doing?”

“Be at the shop drinking beers. Or riding somewhere with some of the fellas.”

“What do you normally do on dates?”

He laughed. “I haven’t been on a date since I was in high school.”

I was flattered, at least for a minute. He was far too handsome to be celibate. “You don’t go on dates?”

“I haven’t in a long time, no.”

“But you’ve had girlfriends, right?”

“Well, not really.”

He picked up another French fry and played with it for a minute.

“Listen.” He tossed it onto his plate and then looked up. “Excluding high school, I’ve never had a girlfriend. And I haven’t been on a date, either. I could sit here and lie to you about how I’ve been waiting for Mrs. Right, or how the love of my life got away from me, and I’ve been sad and lonely ever since, but that’d be a lie. I was talking to Pop the other day, and it just hit me. Kind of like being punched in the face.”

“What were you talking about?”

“The truth?”

“Always,” I said.

He traced his thumbs along the edge of the table for a moment, and then began. “I always considered myself honorable. A man of my word. You know, stuff like that.”

He paused, but I could tell he was far from done.

I gave a little encouragement. “Okay.”

His preoccupation with the table continued. “It’s recently been pointed out to me that I never treated women with respect.”

I swallowed heavily at the thought of what may come next, but I had to ask. “Did you hit them?”

“No. NEVER!” He looked up and locked eyes with me. “I’ve never pushed, shoved, hit or anything. No woman. Ever. I mean nothing.”

It was nice to hear. “Good.”

“Don’t know if what I did was any better, though.” His shoulders slumped and he slid down in the booth a little. I was sure it was unintentional.

He seemed small. Vulnerable.

“What’d you do?”

“Fucked ‘em.”

I waited on him to laugh, but it didn’t happen. I didn’t see the problem. I enjoyed sex. As far as I was concerned, it was an important part to maintaining any relationship. I was lost. “Is that bad?”

He nodded. “Maybe you didn’t hear me before. I fucked ‘em. That’s it. I didn’t date ‘em. I didn’t spend time with any of them. I just fucked ‘em and went on.”

It didn’t seem completely out of character for any man I’d ever known. I decided, solely based on how he was acting, to give him a little credit for what he’d done. Or at least for what he thought he’d done.

“Oh wow,” I said, trying to act surprised.

“So, when I told Pop I wanted to take you on a date, he jumped my ass. Said if I planned on treating you like any of the women in my past, I better not even ask you. And then he said if I did anything to hurt you, he’d kick my ass. It just got me thinking--”

“You told your father we were going out?”

“It was more like asking permission, really,” he said with a laugh. “But, yeah.”

My heart swelled thinking about him asking his father’s permission to take me on a date, and even more about his father’s protective response.

I began to wonder about his reasons for asking me out. I found a stray strand of hair and began to twist it. “So, is this your idea, or your father’s?”

“Mine.”

“Your dad didn’t coerce you or talk you into--”

“My idea totally.”

“And the haircut? The beard?”

“Me.”

“Why? Why me?”

As soon as the words came out, I wished I could reel them back in, but I couldn’t. I wanted to know, but I regretted asking.

He sat up in his seat, as if eager to respond. “If I made a list of all the things that I wanted a woman to be, and then I made another list of all the qualities that you have, the two lists would be the same. Well, except the list of qualities you have is a lot longer. And, it’s got a lot of cool shit on it I didn’t know that I liked. Until now.”

Really?

I liked his response. No. I loved it. I swallowed heavily. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yep.”

I wanted more. I needed more. “What would be on the list?”

He leaned back and folded his arms. His gaze then went to the ceiling, and it seemed he was in deep thought. While his attention was elsewhere, I imagined his massive arms wrapped around me.

Holding me.

I realized he was looking at me. I diverted my eyes and met his gaze.

“Your attitude,” he said. “You don’t take any shit. You’re not afraid to say how you feel, and you don’t really care what anyone thinks. You’re like a girl version of me. I like that. And then your attitude on life. You’re kinda carefree. I’m OCD, and I’ve got to have everything clean and perfect. My bike, for instance. Every time there’s even a little scratch, I fix it at once. Everything’s got to be just right. And you drive your fuckin’ car around without a door. You could care less. That’s the coolest thing ever.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“I ain’t even close to done,” he said. “There’s a lot more.”

“Please, continue.”

“You take care of my Pop like he’s your own father. You’re kind, and caring, and loving, but you don’t let him – or me – run over you. And then, like the other day, you cut his nails. You didn’t cut ‘em because he told you to. Or because he asked you to. You did it because you noticed he needed it, that can only come from one place. It’s not training. Or college. It’s about having a heart. A big one. And then, there’s the weird stuff.”

I was intrigued. “Like what?” I chuckled

“I keep shit clean, but I can’t fuckin’ stand to rinse dishes. You can’t stand to have ‘em in the sink. I leave my coffee cup on the table at the coffee shop. They give me shit about it all the time. You get up and toss yours in the trash can as soon as you’re done. My house has everything in its place. Looks like a grocery store in my cupboards with everything lining up perfectly. But I hate to vacuum. Your house has lines in the carpet from where you’ve vacuumed it. You’re like my mom. But, when I put my kutte in your cabinet, the glasses aren’t lined up perfectly. I say fuck every other word, and you don’t cuss. Not at all. Ever. All these differences are the kind of shit that’s made my parents last forever. Pop calls it balance. I don’t know if that’s what it’s really called, but it’s good enough, I guess.”

He locked eyes with me and leaned forward. The hazel orbs I’d grown so fond of had vanished. They were now a gray-green with the tiniest crumbs of brown sprinkled cautiously throughout the iris.

I became immersed in them.

“And there’s also the other stuff like…”

I lowered my gaze to his lips. If a man ever had luscious lips, it was him. I watched them move, opening and closing with each spoken word. Words that I could no longer make sense of.

My mind had gone elsewhere. I was done. I’d reached the brink.

“Stop,” I said flatly. “Stop talking. I’ve heard enough.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said. “We need to go.”

“Where?”

“We need to leave. I want to go back to my place.”

His face washed with worry. “Why?”

“I decided I want you to kiss me.”

He seemed indifferent.

He stood.

I wondered if I’d made the wrong decision. It was too soon. I was too forward. I was inconsiderate. I should have let him finish talking. There were so many possibilities.

My head began to spin.

I stood.

He moved away from the table, allowing me room to step to his side.

I complied.

I filled with regret. Albeit slight, it was unquestionably regret.

And then.

I felt his hand gently grip the back of my neck. His lips parted slightly and he leaned toward me.

Oh God.

I hadn’t been kissed in years.

His head tilted to the side.

I closed my eyes.

Everything surrounding me disappeared. The things that continuously rattled around in my head vanished. Our mouths merged. The two of us, for that moment in time, became one.

It was the type of kiss I had always dreamed of, but had never been fortunate enough to receive.

It was passionate.

Possessive.

Perfect.

He controlled me completely. Whether he knew it or not, he took ownership of me during that kiss, and I loved it.

His scent filled my nostrils. A mixture of leather, an ever so subtle hint of his cologne, and a trace of his manliness meshed into an aroma I would later learn to recognize the instant he walked into a room.

My body trembled.

I decided I wanted more.

I wanted it all.