FAITH

Me: He just pulled in at his house.

Nora: Send us a pic. What are you wearing? Did you shave your legs?

Emma: Faith is so gonna get laid.

Nora: Let your inner ho out.

As if he could see me inside my house on the back of my couch, scouting his driveway around my blinds, when he climbed out of his truck, I jumped back like I’d been caught. My heart had been racing since Naydeen offered to work the late part of the evening shift, and Delaney left with Mom and Big D. She’d be home later, and although my mom had offered to let her spend the night with them, I didn’t want to get into the habit of sluffing her off on anyone.

That was my life, and I wasn’t about to shirk my responsibilities to play grab-ass with the hot guy I crushed on in high school.

Well, that’s what part of my brain told me.

The other part had me jumping into the shower, spending an hour on my hair, and going through just about every nice thing I had in my closet. We didn’t have plans, but I wanted to look good for him. Plus, taking more time with my appearance over the past few days had done something for my confidence.

Me: He just got home. I should give him a while. Don’t you think? I don’t want to seem desperate.

Emma: But you are desperate.

Nora: Desperately in need of the D.

They were funny and just trying to put me at ease. I crossed my legs and leaned into the cushion, then confessed.

Me: I’m nervous.

Nora: About what? He likes you.

Me: But for how long? When this ends, isn’t it going to be so weird seeing him around?

Would I be like the ditched girl at the end of the bar from a few weeks back? I hoped not, because I didn’t have my friends around to be my shoulders to cry on and buy me drinks. I only had them online.

If it didn’t go well, was I prepared to handle this? Was I capable of dealing with the fall-out?

Nora: Stop. Don’t do that. This is exciting.

Emma: For real. It’s not like he’s a stranger. If you’re feeling weird, then just talk to him.

I might have been overthinking it, but I couldn’t stop. It occupied my thoughts day and night. Honestly, the night part didn’t bother me. I hadn’t realized my imagination was so erotic, but my dreams since our kiss had been anything but PG.

It was during the day, in reality, when I wondered if I was making a mistake.

Perhaps they were right? I should talk to him about it. Being on the phone with him all week had been fun, but I’d have to find some big balls to do it in person.

Me: You’re right.

Emma: What you need is a glass of wine.

That didn’t sound half bad.

Noel: Since it’s no fun drinking alone, I’ll have one too. My kid has nine million Legos out but decided it would be more fun to take every DVD we own off the shelf and make a fort out of it.

She sent a photo of what looked like an impressive build; in the background were the tons of Legos he’d abandoned.

Emma: I want to kill the guy who invented Legos.

Nora: If I step on one more...

Emma: You’ve talked me into it. I’m getting a glass too.

Abbey: I stepped on a Shopkins the other day and almost called an ambulance. Those little fuckers are weapons for children!

Delaney had a few Shopkins and some Lego sets, but she’d rather watch a movie or play outside. Our house was smaller than Emma’s and Nora’s condos, but at least we had a yard. Something neither of them had.

Abbey had a yard, but it was kind of shitty from what I’d seen. Scott wasn’t around enough to take care of it, and when he was, he’d much rather bitch about what Abbey wasn’t doing.

Abbey: Faith, just have fun. There’s no rush to figure everything out tonight. See where the conversation leads you.

Emma: Hopefully, you won’t be doing much talking. LOL

That was the other thing.

Me: Guys, I don’t have that much experience. I’ve only been with one guy. What if I suck and he’s totally turned off?

There was an already opened bottle of wine in the fridge from a few days back, and after taking the cap off, I gave it a precursory sniff. I wasn’t sure why I smelled it—I wasn’t about to waste all the wine I had in the house. Only enough for a few swallows, I poured the last of it in a juice glass.

Nora: You’re driving me nuts.

Emma: Shit. If he didn’t like the first kiss, he wouldn’t have called. Trust me. You’re fine.

Abbey: I missed what you’re doing tonight? Are you going out?

Me: I only have a few hours. I think I’ll probably just go down to his house and hang out for a while. Nothing major.

But it felt really freaking major.

I sipped the pinot, which tasted tangier than I remembered, and did my best to relax. After all, it was Aaron. He knew me. He knew my life. He wouldn’t make me uncomfortable or push me to do anything I wasn’t okay with.

By the time I emptied my glass, I’d convinced myself. “There isn’t anything to worry about.” And I said it over and over as I went back into the bathroom to nitpick my appearance for the third time in an hour.

Emma: Quit being a pussy. Go down there.

Nora: Call him and tell him you’re on your way.

We hadn’t made definitive plans, but what else was there to do?

Abbey: Why didn’t you have him come over? Home court advantage. Maybe you’d be more comfortable?

Me: There is nothing sexy or cool about my house. There are toys everywhere. I’d rather go down there.

Nora: THEN DO IT!

About an hour had passed since he’d pulled into his drive, and I was as ready as I was ever going to get.

Me: Fine.

Me: Oh God.

Noel: I swear to God, if Amazon sold big girl panties, I’d Prime you a pair for every day of the week. You’ve got this. Do this for yourself!

Before I could talk myself out of it, I slipped on my sandals and pulled my door shut. I turned around a few feet away, but then coached myself back to the sidewalk.

“There isn’t anything to worry about.” A few deep breaths later, I was marching down the street.

I didn’t want to show up unannounced, so I paused on the opposite side of the road from his house and called.

“Hey,” he answered. His deep voice was comforting, and much of the anxiety I’d tried to expel on the way down the block faded hearing that single word.

“What are you doing?” I tipped my head to the sky.

Could I be any lamer or more predictable?

“I was just waiting to hear from you. You had about five more minutes until I was going to call.”

Before I could move or say anything else, his front door opened.

There I stood, like a dodo, grounded to the asphalt below me, and he instantly saw me through his storm door.

“Whatcha doing over there?” I watched him grin as he spoke into the phone.

“Well, I walked down here, and then realized I hadn’t called or anything. I didn’t want to just show up.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” He opened the glass door and leaned against the wooden frame, and his dog ran out onto the porch. “You can come by anytime you like.”

Warmth crept into my cheeks and I swayed, feeling like an even bigger idiot for not walking over yet.

“Come over here.”

“Are you sure you’re not busy or anything?”

“Do you want me to walk over and carry you back? ‘Cause I will.”

I laughed at the thought of him packing me across the street, but it was better that I walk myself, and then my feet moved because I didn’t feel like calling his bluff.

When I reached the sidewalk leading to his porch, he said, “God, I like that,” but I wasn’t sure what he meant.

I asked, “Like what?”

“The way you look coming to me.”

Later, the girls would eat that up. Hell, I was eating it up and licking the plate.

I wasn’t sure how to respond. It was kind of difficult to believe a guy like him would be interested in me. And, lately, he’d been saying more and more things like that. I couldn’t help but wonder what had changed. I’d always been here. I’d always been me.

A car passed and honked as I climbed the steps, and I fought the urge to see who it was. Aaron gave them a friendly wave as they passed.

I didn’t care what anyone in town thought, I never really had. That wasn’t why I’d never dated. After Aaron left Wynne—and I got with Chad and then he ultimately left—I didn’t think much about dating and finding someone else. I’d only focused on my baby.

Now, she was a kid with a life of her own. Going places with other people, making friends, and needing me less and less.

As I appraised his grin and his quiet charm, holding the door open for me, I realized it was possible that I did have time for a personal life.

He nodded for me to come in.

Patting Smokie’s head as I passed, I stepped under his arm. His house had the same welcoming smell as it had when we were younger, but it looked different. The fireplace and walls had been painted lighter and didn’t host countless framed pictures like before. Gone was the carpet, replaced with deep, dark wood. And, the kitchen looked like an updated version, but straight out of Pottery Barn.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

With his mention of food, I felt how empty my stomach really was. I’d planned on grabbing something while I was at the restaurant, but when Naydeen asked to have the extra hours, I got the hell out of there and forgot about food.

“No. Have you?” I continued looking around. It was such a cool house.

“Nope. I could make us something or we can go find somewhere to grab a bite.”

Wynne didn’t have much for a selection of dining choices, and I didn’t feel like going anywhere I worked. Then again, I didn’t want him going through the trouble of making something for me either.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked, leaving the decision up to him. I sauntered to the large island that separated the kitchen from the living room and sat on the stool at the end. Tipping my head to the side, I watched him follow me, scratching the back of his neck. Then he exhaled deeply and wiped his hands on the front of his jeans.

Was he nervous too? No way.

He ran his hand along the top of the counter. “We can go to Burton and try that new pizza place.”

“I should probably stay in town. Just in case my mom and Darrell get back early with Delaney.” Pizza didn’t sound bad though, and I’d heard good things. “I’ll take a rain check on that though.”

“Where did they go?”

Smokie came up to me, sniffing at my shoes and looking for a scratch. “The fair. Darrell told her about the demo derby and she wanted to see the crashes.” With both hands I leaned down to rub behind the white and black dog’s ears. He was a good boy.

“I used to love those, but I see enough crashes these days.” His mouth pitched to one side, he thought for a second, and then asked, “How about I throw a few pork chops on the grill? Mrs. Williamson, bless her coal-black heart, sent me home with three bags of corn. I got rid of most of it, but I have some left. I can grill a few of those too.”

I laughed because Virginia Williamson was a crotchety old lady. After her husband died and her kids left, she only loved Jesus and her garden.

“She is so grouchy,” I claimed, agreeing with his description of her.

His head fell to one side, and I noticed the thick muscle pulling at the collar of his shirt. “She’s just lonely. When you don’t talk to many people, sometimes you forget how to.”

“Yeah, I get that.” When he put it that way I could sympathize with the century-old battle-axe he’d done work for. I admitted, “Truthfully, this is kind of weird for me right now.”

“Me too.” His eyes found mine, and I saw him in a new light. Maybe we weren’t all that different.

Still, I’d had my reasons for staying single, but what were his? Maybe I’d find out.

“Pork chops sound good.”

As if I’d given him a command, he went to the fridge and pulled out a gallon-sized bag containing what I assumed were the chops in some kind of marinade. “Do you want a beer or a water or tea? I grabbed some Diet Mountain Dew, too. That’s what you like, right?”

What the heck was that feeling? A whooshing sensation barreled through me. His offer felt so luxurious; it was bizarre how such a tiny gesture could feel so big inside. Maybe I was just easy to please.

“I can get it,” I offered.

He put his palm up and reached into the cabinet for a glass, then pulled a water and a soda from his side-by-side refrigerator. It was a nice one. I had a million-year-old Whirlpool that I’d no doubt use until it quit. His had ice in the door. Fancy.

“Cubed or crushed?” he asked, holding the sea glass colored highball just shy of pressing the button.

“Crushed,” I answered.

When it was full he slid it over to me and then sent the soda the same way.

As I finished making my drink, I asked, “What did you do to the pork chops? What’s in that bag?”

He lifted it for inspection. “It’s High Life, soy sauce, Worcestershire, and some top secret spices. It’s the way my dad always did chops and steaks. Now I just do it too.”

I didn’t even care what the secret spices were. They sounded really good. Besides, any man who could cook—anyone who took the time to marinate for that matter—had my full confidence.

He gathered a roll of tin foil from a drawer, an old plastic grocery bag, and a few different seasonings. “Get your drink and grab that bag of corn over there, please. We’ll go out back.”

He waited by the French doors leading to the patio as I did what he’d asked. His hands were full, so I opened the doors. After Smokie trotted out, Aaron followed, and I shut the gorgeous paned door behind me.

It had been forever since I’d been in his backyard, but it was as impressive as ever. The perfect mix of sun and shade with a privacy fence that blocked out the rest of the town. The grass looked like a golf course and he had an in-ground pool. The patio hadn’t been covered back in high school and there was new outdoor furniture that was nicer than the stuff inside my house.

A relaxing oasis.

Goals as fuck.

God, I could get used to it.