A week after our dinner date and I’m feeling out of sorts.
Not in a bad way, or a weird way, but a good way.
I’m missing Thomas. Unfortunately, he had to take a rain check on Takeout Thursday last night because of a business dinner he couldn’t get out of. Not that I’d ever expect him to change a dinner just for me, and it did feel nice him intimating that he tried to reschedule, but I’ve become used to our regular Thursday night in.
In what I’m sure is a fact-finding mission—read: interrogation—Mia, Abi, Zoe, and Dani are currently residing in my living room for Friday night drinks. The excuse I was given was that the guys had moved their poker night forward and they were simply relocating their normal get-together to my place, but I know it’s more than that.
“So . . . how’s Thomas?” Abi asks, a knowing grin playing at her lips.
I narrow my eyes at my friend, shaking my head in the process. “You must know considering Thomas is best friends with your husband.”
She feigns shock, putting a hand over her heart. “And you think Cade would tell me about it?”
“If he didn’t, then you probably tortured the information out of him,” Mia says.
“You know me well,” Abi replies. “But I want to hear Amy’s version of events first before giving my commentary.”
“There’s a commentary?” Dani asks, quirking a brow.
“More like an opinion piece, a perspective from an outside observer,” Abi replies.
Dani snickers. “You sound like me when you switch to intellectual speak.”
“Oh, like you don’t know, Little Grasshopper,” Abi says, using Zach’s pet name for Dani. “I sat back and watched you and Zach go at it for months.”
“You watched them? Like literally? Or are we talking metaphorically?” Zoe says, entering the conversation. “This conversation has definitely taken an unexpected turn.”
I try hard not to giggle but the moment Mia gives up the ghost and bursts out laughing, I lose the fight. Soon enough, we’re struggling to breathe, a situation that only gets worse when Dani snorts loudly sounding like a pig in heat. Or what I imagine a pig in heat might sound like.
“I don’t mean literally. Not that a little visual stimulation is a bad thing. Just not one of my best friends,” Abi continues once we all finally recover. She turns her attention to me, “But don’t you dare try and change the subject, Amz. Spill or else I won’t tell you what Thomas said.”
I tilt my head and smirk. “Ever think that maybe I know what Thomas thought of our date and that I don’t need you to tell me?”
“Nope,” she retorts back matter-of-factly. “Because you forget I know you. You forget that we all know you.”
“We do?” Zoe says around a mouthful of corn chips. Mia just glares at her oldest sister, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Are you sure we’re related?” she asks. Zoe just shrugs and again, we start giggling. This is what happens when they’re one glass of wine in with husbands to drive them home at the end of the night. Sober husbands who enjoy the after-effects of their wives enjoying one too many drinks.
“Considering you two look more like twins than anyone else I know, yeah, I think we’re all pretty sure you’re related,” Dani says.
“You do know that if you want to know about my date with Thomas, you kinda need to give me a chance to talk, right?”
“Oh, is that what has to happen to get you to spill? I thought I was going to ply you with alcohol,” Abi states.
“No need,” I say, lifting up my glass of cranberry juice in her direction before taking a sip. “You probably all already know that Thomas organized Mia to take me dress shopping.” I look over to my best friend and wink at her, having already called her last Sunday to both ream her out for tricking me—half-heartedly of course—and thank her profusely for the part she played in getting me ready for the date.
“Well, Thomas also arranged my dad to babysit and for an old client of his to reserve a private dining room at this amazing Spanish restaurant in Humboldt Park.”
“Jeez, that man went all out,” Zoe murmurs, eyes riveted on me.
“And . . .” Dani presses, leaning forward in her chair.
“And, we talked, we had amazing food, he even had flowers waiting for me when we arrived.”
“I think the boys need to take lessons,” Mia muses, looking around the group. “Maybe Thomas can run a masterclass, How to score brownie points and guarantee porn-style head 101.
“So . . . Did Thomas score brownie points?” Abi asks, a huge grin plastered on her face. I know she’s loving this. She told me last year before ‘STD-gate’ and ‘oops-I-got-knocked-up-gate’ that she thought Thomas and I would be perfect for each other. In her words, ‘then my best friend and Cade’s best friend would be bumping uglies too.’ Yes, my darling Abs has a special way with words. It’s one of the things I love about her.
“Okay, enough with the buildup. Just tell us if you kissed—” Dani says.
“Or more than kissed, the more details the better,” Mia adds.
My face heats up and I’m suddenly feeling uncharacteristically shy. I mean, these are my girls, the ones who helped me with cracked nipples and everything pregnancy related. I know I can tell them anything. And it’s not like I put out on the first date.
Not that it felt like a first date. More like the tenth.
“Exactly,” Abi says with a laugh.
“What?” I ask, looking up to find them all looking at me with amusement and I realize I just spoke all of my thoughts out loud.
“We did help you with everything baby and pregnancy related. They did anyway,” she swings her arm over toward Mia and Zoe, the only other mothers in the group. “But yes, you can tell us anything and you better spill or I’ll come over there and sit on you until you do.”
I stare at her and she matches me, except she adds a raised eyebrow for good measure.
“Oh, all right. No, I didn’t put out. Yes, we kissed. Twice. Maybe more than twice. The second and third could be counted as one . . . or maybe two . . . yes, definitely two.”
“You know you’re babbling, right?” says a now beaming Dani.
“Can I just say how much I love this? We needed some excitement since Abi and Cade are all ‘happily married’ now,” Mia adds with air quotes.
Abi gasps and narrows her eyes at Mia. “Take that back. We’re still interesting. I mean, Thomas walked in on us on the dining—”
“La la la,” Dani says, putting her fingers in her ears. “I really don’t need to know that.”
Abi snorts, pointing her finger at Dani. “Like you can talk. Remember the morning of the wedding when I walked in on you and Zach fu—”
Moving quicker than I ever thought possible, Dani dives sideways, covering Abi’s mouth with her hand. “Anyway . . . back to Amy . . .”
I can’t help but laugh because for all Dani’s protests, we all know there’s a secret dirty girl beneath the geek exterior. A conversation last year about anal confirmed that and then some.
“So you kissed, and talked, and ate, and kissed again—twice—so what’s next?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. He couldn’t come over last night for our weekly takeout and movie night—”
“There’s a regular takeout and movie night?” Zoe asks, tilting her head to study me. “And how long has that been going on?”
“A few weeks, maybe a month?”
“You’re right then. It wasn’t really a first date. Well, it was and it wasn’t. Therefore there’s nothing wrong with a bit of slap and tickle between courses.”
“The conversation didn’t exactly lend itself to anything between courses.”
“Oh?” she says. “Uncomfortable?”
“Not really, more serious. No, not serious, important maybe?”
“Maybe?” Abi asks. “How can something be not serious but important?”
“I asked him about not having sex for the past year.”
“Now this I need to hear,” Mia says. “I always wondered how a guy like Thomas can go from one hundred to zero in the blink of an eye. I mean, who hasn’t had an STD before?” Three sets of wide eyes snap in her direction.
“Say what now?” Zoe splutters. “You’ve had an STD? When? How? And again, when?”
Mia waves us all off. “It was nothing. Just a case of crabs between friends. Two treatments ten days apart and I was good to go again.”
The room goes deathly quiet. The only sound is the low hum of the television in the background and a buzz from Brody’s baby monitor.
“What? It’s nothing.”
“You’re right, it’s nothing now. Who did you get it from? How did you get it? And why are we only finding out about this now?” Zoe says, repeating her unanswered questions.
“Enough about Mia, I want to hear about Amy kissing Thomas,” Dani says, trying to steer the conversation back to me.
“You know we’re going to talk about this later,” Zoe says under her breath but Mia just rolls her eyes and moves her attention my way.
“I wanna know if there’s going to be more kissing . . .”
“And more than kissing . . .”
“Yes, definitely that,” Mia says. “Please tell us there’s going to be more than kissing?”
I bite my lip and take a deep breath, deciding that there’s no time like the present to ask them about the thing that’s really bothering me.
“I want there to be more than kissing. A lot more. But it’s been so long I wouldn’t even know how to let him know I want it or that I’m ready to go there,” I say quietly.
“Are you ready?” Zoe asks softly. “Because I remember being terrified the first time after Nate.”
I meet her eyes. “I’m scared. But I think I’m ready, or at least willing to try,” I reply with a small grin.
“Get naked in front of him,” Mia says matter-of-factly like she’s telling me the most obvious thing in the world.
“No, that’s too obvious, especially for a first time,” Abi says, standing up from the couch. She looks around the group. “Anyone for a top off?” When we all shake our heads, she walks out of the room and into the kitchen.
“Okaaaaay, so don’t get naked?” I say slowly, my heart thudding against the side of my chest.
“Dress hot, act hot, be hot. He won’t be able to resist,” Zoe says.
“That doesn’t tell him she wants him to jump her bones,” Mia says. “Men are simple creatures. And if Thomas is trying to take this slow and be the respectful boyfriend candidate, he might miss something like that. I think you need to be more direct. Nothing tells a man you’re horny and ready to get yourself some more than touching his dick.”
This time I do spit out my drink, coughing and spluttering and making a big ol’ mess on the floor.
“Anyway, I’m not sure jumping is what he’d be doing. More like nailing her into the mattress with his over-eager hammer,” Mia murmurs with a giggle. Meems, always blunt and to the point. She’s probably not wrong though.
“It’s been how long for him?” Zoe asks.
“At least a year,” Abi calls out from the kitchen.
“Then you’ll definitely need to get the first time out of the way to get to the second time. That will be the rock-your-world sex. First time out of the gate for both of you after a long dry spell is going to be hard and fast,” Mia says.
Abi walks back into the room nodding. “Definitely fast.”
“Unless he pre-games. Then he’d be fine,” Dani says.
“Um, hello. So you’re telling me to get naked and jump him and also expect the first time to be a wham bam ‘blow his load quicker than a virgin on prom night.’ Did I get that right?”
They don’t say anything, they just look at me and grin.
“Can’t wait till the ‘after-sex’ debrief. This is fun,” Dani says, bouncing in her seat.
Definitely looking forward to that one now.
After the girls have all been collected by their grinning and—in Mia’s case, positively beaming—husbands, I put on a Nicholas Sparks movie with Channing Tatum in it, and snuggle down under a blanket on the couch.
Picking up my phone and checking that it’s not too late, I send Thomas a message.
Amy: How was poker night?
Thomas: Not so good. Sean was on a streak and cleaned us all out.
Amy: Oh well, you can’t win them all.
Thomas: I still think I’m coming out on top. Well I will be if you let me take you and Brody out tomorrow . . .
Amy: We’d love to. What do you have planned?
Thomas: It’s a surprise.
Amy: Something to know about me, I’m not a fan of surprises. That’s why I found out Brody’s sex as soon as I could,
Thomas: This will be a good surprise, I promise. You liked my first surprise date, didn’t you?
Amy: You know I did.
Thomas: So have some faith in me.
Amy: I do.
Thomas: Good. How was your night?
Amy: Good. I got grilled about our date by the girls.
Thomas: Abi was there when Cade did the same to me last weekend.
Amy: I know that too. She seems to be a fan of Team Thamz.
Thomas: Team Thamz?
Amy: That’s our couple name apparently. All the celebrities have them.
Thomas: And we’re celebrities now?
Amy: Definitely a hot topic apparently.
Thomas: It does have a nice ring to it. How’s the boy today?
Okay, whoosh. Maybe even a mega whoosh. I love how much he cares about my son.
Amy: He’s good. Went down straight away after being fawned over by a room full of women.
Thomas: I think any man would do the same thing.
Amy: Go down?
He doesn’t reply straight away and I imagine him sitting at home, maybe in front of his television, biting his tongue—figuratively and literally—trying not to reply back with the first thing that comes to mind. Knowing Thomas, it would be undoubtedly dirty.
Part of me is hoping he’ll reply back with whatever his first thought is.
Thomas: Are you trying to torture me now? Been taking lessons from Abi?
Amy: Maybe I taught her everything she knows . . .
Thomas: Now that is an intriguing thought and one I look forward to investigating further.
Amy: You think I’m going to let you get off that easy?
Again I wait a few minutes before my phone vibrates with his reply.
Thomas: You’re killing me here, sweetness.
Amy: That’s funny. I thought I was only getting started.
Thomas: Does lunch time tomorrow sound good?
I let him get away with the change in subject. He may be a reformed playboy but I also know that he’s holding back where I’m concerned, not because he’s not interested—definitely not if the end of date kiss is anything to go by—but out of respect for me and the us that we’re building.
Amy: Perfect. I can feed Brody before we go and he can sleep in the baby carrier.
Thomas: Sweet dreams, Amy. Try not to think of me too much ;)
Amy: I wasn’t going to be thinking of you, but now I don’t think I’ll be able to do anything but. If you’re woken up by messages at Brody’s 3 a.m. feeding, you’ll only have yourself to blame.
Thomas: You can message me day or night. Especially if you’re thinking of me. I definitely want to know about that. See you tomorrow.