Chapter Eleven
Dwayne
Now I was the friend, a buff wingman that would be forced to listen to girl talk and watch as a dozen men fought for their place in Gillian’s pants. They’d be licking their lips, staring down her shirt, and thinking about what they were going to do to her, and I had to sit there and watch. This was a disaster. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to go to this thing, but Gillian was so insistent. I couldn’t say no, and I needed another chance with her, no matter how slim it was.
I wasn’t going to give up without a fight. I decided to do everything I could to get Gillian’s attention. I found my tightest shirt, my tightest pair of pants, and added a spritz of my favorite cologne. My goal was to make myself irresistible.
I tried to tell myself that she wanted me. She gave me her number. She went to dinner with me. She even checked me out when she got in the car, but there was always something that would pull me back from the brink of certainty. Why would she ask me to go speed dating with her if she wanted to be with me? And why was she so insistent about me going?
Twice I almost called her to tell her that I couldn’t go, but I stopped myself. None of this made any sense to me, and I wanted to know what was going on before I dipped out. I took as much time as I could in the mirror, making sure my pants laid right and my shirt fell in just the right way. Nothing satisfied me. I was about to give up and change when I heard her knocking on the door.
I ran out and looked around the living room. I couldn’t let her see things the way they were. I still hadn’t bought any furniture. I was living like an overgrown frat boy. I turned off the lights so she couldn’t see and answered the door.
Something snapped, our eyes met, and I stood rigid staring at her. She was a dark goddess, wearing a fiery red dress that hugged her body so tight, I almost ripped it off her. She was looking at me, I could see it. So why wasn’t she making a move?
“Are you ready?” she asked, a little cold.
“Yes.” I closed the door and locked it.
“I hope you don’t mind sitting in back,” she said. “Lexie’s up front already.”
I almost turned around and ran back inside. “That’s fine.”
When I got in the car, the girls exchanged looks. Lexie rolled her eyes and a smile crossed over Gillian’s lips. There was something between them, a secret that they were keeping about me, and I needed to know what it was.
“Have you ever been speed dating?” Lexie asked when we got onto the freeway.
“No, what’s it like?”
“A bunch of guys all swarming for a chance to get their dick in you,” Gillian said. “The girls are probably just as bad.”
“I’m not really looking for anyone, honestly. It’s just too weird.”
“I don’t get why either of you are so pessimistic about this. It’s not like we’re picking up hobos off the street or calling all of our old exes; normal people go to these things, too.”
“But they’re all lonely,” Gillian said.
“And, they’re lonely for a reason,” I added.
“I’m not going to take it seriously,” Gillian continued.
“Why should you? You don’t need to,” Lexie snapped.
Gillian looked at her like she’d just made a mess on her living room carpet. I leaned back in my seat, my hands behind my head and met Gillian’s eyes through the rearview mirror. Her usually pale cheeks went bright red.
“I think we should give it a try, Gillian. You never know. You might meet somebody that you like.”
“Maybe…” She sounded uncertain.
“I might. I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.”
She had a look of disappointment when she looked at me in the mirror, then her face went cold. “You might be right. I’ll give a try. I’ll probably get a few numbers.”
“I doubt they’ll be up to par,” I said.
“They might be. A good guy is hard to find.”
“Not that hard.” Lexie glanced back at me. “Right, Gillian?”
“I don’t know.” She kept her eyes on the road and away from the mirror.
“But once you do find a good one,” Lexie went on, “you can’t take them for granted.”
“I agree,” I spoke up. Neither of them spoke the rest of the way, but Gillian couldn’t help but look back at me.
Feeling confident, I walked into the lobby of the Westin Downtown with the girls on either side. We took the elevator to the second-floor conference room, where a sign had been posted saying, “Find the One.”
There was a long line of people, more diverse than I’d expected. There were social misfits, men with beer bellies and neckbeards, but there were also a lot of normal, refined individuals — and plenty of beautiful women. I kept my eyes off Gillian and on the line. I knew that if she thought I was disinterested, she would only want me more.
Once she saw what I was doing, she threw her head up and marched to the back of the line. Her friend Lexie was by my side, clearly enjoying the show. When we got to the back of the line, Lexie looked at my shirt.
“Oh, no.” She pulled out a handkerchief. “Come here. You’ve got a big stain on your shirt.”
“I do.”
“Yes, you do. Come on. I’ll help you with it.” She grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me around the corner.
“What?” I asked.
“If you keep pulling that hard to get crap, she’s going to think you don’t like her. She’s already pissed at herself for asking you to go speed dating.”
“This whole time she actually wanted me, and I’ve been torturing myself for nothing?”
“Duh.”
“Why did she ask me to go speed dating?”
“She said that she didn’t want to go alone and wanted to see you again. I don’t get it. I guess she spaced or something.”
“It threw me through a fucking loop.”
“Just be nice to her. She’s a good girl.”
“I’m not that guy, Lexie.”
“That’s what they all say. Just be nice. She’s playing it cool, but inside, she’s terrified.”
“I promise.”
“You promise?”
“I swear. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Good, let’s go.” We walked back into the hall and found Gillian. She did look terrified. I decided to be gentle and careful what I said.
Gillian leaned over to whisper something in Lexie’s ear. Lexie listened, then waved her off. I didn’t know what to think about what was going on, except that I liked the idea of moving closer to Gillian and staying by her side. She went stiff when I did, but didn’t say anything.
The conference room was setup like a restaurant, with a grid of miniature two-seat tables and a stage at the head of the room where an elderly woman was standing, her blonde beehive hanging sideways off her head, wearing a pearl-white sequin dress. She stepped up to the mic.
“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” her rich, Dietrich voice boomed throughout the room, hushing the crowd. “Tonight is an amazing night,” she looked out at the crowd, “because whether you believe it or not, love is in the room. I’ve been doing this for thirty years, and I have seen countless successful couples meet at my events. You’re no different. All you have to do is open up, be yourself, and take a risk — because if you don’t take a risk, nothing will happen.”
She paused for effect, then continued, “I’d like all of you to come up to the front of the room and grab a clipboard. On it, you will find a name tag, a number matching you to your first table, and a list of demands. Think long and hard about what you want in your ideal mate. Don’t ask for the world, but don’t sell yourself short, either. Write down only the necessities. This is just your first encounter. You have five minutes. When I ring the gong, ladies take your seats. Men find your first table.”
I took a clipboard, keeping a close eye on Gillian as she took a seat, and started pouring over things. She was watching me, too, glancing up when she thought I wouldn’t notice. I kept my eyes on the paper, trying to decide what to put down.
There were four spaces. How could I possibly fit my heart’s desire into four simple criteria? It wouldn’t work. I knew what I didn’t want. She couldn’t be stupid or shallow, and she couldn’t be conceited. But how would I know if she was the one?
I was still trying to decide what to write down when the gong rang. My table was at the far corner of the room. A young blonde woman was already sitting there, looking around. I didn’t want to walk up to her and start talking. I’d be leading her on, but I didn’t want to insult her, so I sat down.
She smiled up at me, letting her eyes move down my chest without even trying to hide it. “Hi, I’m Stacey,” she introduced as she offered me her hand.
I shook it. “Thomas,” I said.
“Should we go down the list?” she asked.
“You do it.”
“Okay,” she looked down. “Do you like dogs?”
“No, I can’t stand them. I hate having to clean up after them.”
“Well, that won’t work. I have three poodles.”
“Three?” I laughed.
“Yeah.” She set her clipboard down. “Shame, too.” She shook her head. “I’d eat you up.”
I looked down at the clipboard and kept my mouth shut until the gong rang, then moved onto the next table where a woman who looked like she was in her fifties was sitting, wearing a blue and black floral print dress with a fuzzy pink flower in her hair.
“Hi,” I sat down.
“This isn’t going to work, is it?” she asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
“That’s alright. At least I get to look at you.”
I stared down at my clipboard until the gong rang and sat down at the next table without looking up. When I did, Gillian was staring at me, blushing. “Well, hello,” I leaned in. “Did you get any numbers yet?”
“No.” She looked to her right, motioning towards a man who could barely fit in his chair with long red hair and pimples covering her face. “He thinks I’m the one,” she whispered.
“He’s not that bad,” I chided. “Red’s your color,. My eyes moved over her without hesitation.
“You think so?” She pulled her bodice down a bit, revealing the top of her breasts.
“Oh, yeah.”
“What’s on your list?” she asked.
I flipped it over so she could see that the page was blank. “I figure I’ll wait to see if we click. What’s on yours?”
She turned hers around. There was a rudimentary drawing of a knight lying on the ground with a knife in his heart.
“You’re not gonna stab me, are you?”
“We’ll see.”
“I’m curious,” I declared.
“About what?”
“What would happen if I did this?” I lunged forward and kissed her, drawing the moment out. She went stiff, then seemed to relax slowly as if she were melting. Her lips parted, giving me the chance I needed to push my tongue through. I closed my eyes. The room was gone. None of the people in it were there. We were alone in our own world, exploring the nuances of each other’s touch.
The sound of the gong ringing interrupted us. I pulled away, relishing her soft sigh. “I don’t want to move. Do you?”
She shook her head. “Stay here.”
“Tell me one thing: neither Lexie nor I can figure out why you invited me speed dating.”
“She told you.”
“She had to. The girl couldn’t stand it, and I’m glad she did. I was starting to think you thought I was gay or something.”
“You?”
“Yes, me.”
“Dwayne Howell, you are the straightest man I have ever met.”
“You like rough men?” I traced my finger over her arm and watched her shiver.
“Look,” she pointed to her right. The red-haired man was staring at us with a snarl on his face. “Get me out of here.”
“Gladly,” I took her hand and helped her up. Then we hunted down Lexie, who’d been at the same table for two rotations. She waved us away and texted Gillian to tell her she’d get a ride home.
We were alone, walking through the street to the car, both of us engrossed in the electric energy swarming between us. Gillian had to struggle to focus on the road as she drove. Halfway there, I rested my hand on her thigh. She tensed up as my hand traveled farther up her leg, then stopped just short.
When we got to my house, I dove in and slammed my lips against hers, this time pressing through, roaming my tongue through her mouth. When I pulled away, I bit down on her bottom lip and she sighed softly.
“You want to come inside?” I couldn’t believe the words had left my mouth, but something had awoken inside of me. I wasn’t the subdued choir boy any longer — I was a man overcome by desire.
She didn’t have to respond. I knew what she wanted. I hopped out of the car, opened her door, and pulled her up into my arms so I could carry her into the house.