Turned out, poor Betsy needed a new fuel pump. I had no idea what that was and nodded blindly as they explained it to me. The part itself wasn’t too bad, however the cost of labor had my eyes bugging out. I swore that every time I went to a mechanic shop, they saw “dumb” written on my forehead. Oh, there’s a unicorn poking holes in my tailpipe? Sounds legit. How much will that cost? My first born and a kidney? Good, good. I was going to suggest that as a good price.

Thankfully, Shane was kind enough to hold my hand and make sure I wasn’t getting screwed over for the imaginary unicorn fucking me over. He’d been great all week. On the days I worked at the station, if he was there too, he would give me a ride home. It saved Jolene from having to pick me up. He was different around me at the station. He was . . .Nice.

At least, nice-er. He still made fun of me and grumbled at lunch with everyone, but his jokes were no longer mean and snide. They were more sarcastic, but with the intention of making me laugh. Yesterday at lunch, I’d mentioned my date, and everyone chimed in on what I should wear.

Laney said I should show up in nothing but a smile and Shane had grumbled something about a potato sack. When I’d turned to him with a challenging eyebrow raised, I asked if I could message him some ideas because he was my new dating sensei. He’d stared hard at me for a moment before uttering ‘sure’ and stuffing half of his sandwich in his mouth.

Which brought me to my current situation. I stood in front of my full-length mirror on a Friday night trying to decide what to wear on my date. I looked over my slacks, flats, button-up shirt and cardigan, trying to find the best angle to take a picture. Once I’d settled on a decent one, I sent it off to Shane with a bunch of questions marks.

Shane: Alright grandma.

Me: What???

Shane: I mean, does he have a grandma fetish? Is that why you decided to dress like that?

I rolled my eyes, tossed my phone on the bed, and stomped into my closet for another outfit. The next one consisted of a short floral dress. I figured the exposed thigh would be a win. Then I threw my oversized button up sweater over it. I saw it on Pinterest and thought it looked cute. I took the picture, making sure to show off how short the dress was, and hit send.

Shane: Ohhh. I see.

Shane: He has a hippie grandma fetish.

Me: You’re not funny.

Shane: I’m fucking hilarious.

Looking down at myself, I growled into my chest. I didn’t know why I’d decided to ask his opinion. I didn’t know what the hell he was hoping I wore, or what a guy liked to see on a woman, but as I pulled my dress over my head, I was tempted to just go with Laney’s suggestion of nothing but a smile. With my lips pursed in frustration, I looked at my reflection in the mirror, wearing my black bra and silk panties.

An idea hit me, and my lips lifted into a slow smile, stretching bigger the more I thought about it. I didn’t know what possessed me. Maybe the frustration at all the failed dates mixed with the dread I already felt for this date. Especially since Shane had made fun of everything I’d suggested I wear. Whatever it was, I’d reached my limit, and I was going to extract some of my own torture.

Laughing, I dug in the back of my drawer for the sexy lingerie I’d bought online after a bottle of wine. I’d had it for a while, but had never worn it. I stripped off my underwear and bra and slipped on the wisp of black lace that was practically transparent, except for heavier lace covering the nipples. Next came the panties, two strings that wrapped around my hips and left a lace triangle covering between my legs. To top it all off, I slid the garter and stockings on. I pulled my hair down and tousled it until I had that just fucked look.

It took a few tries, but I finally settled on a picture of me with hip cocked and slightly turned, the phone covering my face. Biting my lip, I thought about the repercussions. Fuck it. I hit send. This time it took him forever to reply. I had to triple-check to make sure I actually sent it to him and hadn’t accidentally opened up another chat. But when he did respond, I had to laugh. My heart pumped at the banter we had going on, the excitement coursing through my veins bringing a warm flush to my cheeks. All from one word.

Shane: Careful.

Me: Why? I’m just a little girl who probably looks “cute.” What do you care?

Shane: I’m still a man and you’re playing with fire, Juliana.

Me: I’ve already tested you out and you were okay. So, I’m good. I don’t need to play with you.

Shane: Okay?

Shane: OKAY??

Me: Yup.

I laughed and tossed the phone aside. Checking the time, I needed to hurry if I was going to make my date on time. When I heard my phone ringing, I rushed out of my closet and picked it up.

“Juliana.” His deep voice rumbled through the phone and stretched to my core. I had to squeeze my thighs together he sounded so hot. As much as I wanted to give in to the heat between my legs, I kept remembering the way he scolded me in the hallway at Jack’s. I couldn’t let him get away with being irritated or acting like he was bothered by my body when in reality, his pride had a boo-boo from me telling him he was just “okay.”

“You know, Shane. Your pride makes you want to prove you have the biggest, best-working dick. But because of that pride, you seem to forget you think of me as a child who can’t handle you.”

“It’s not my pride that makes me know I have the best working dick.” I waited for him to acknowledge the fact that he called me a child, but it never came. “I seem to remember four-no five-times you came on my fingers, my tongue, my cock.”

I pulled air as far into my lung as possible. His words were making it hard to focus and I needed more oxygen flowing through my body. Letting out my breath, I answered as flippantly as I could.

“Like I said, it was okay.”

“I’ll show you—”

I hung up before he could respond, a giggle the only sound filling the room once the call was ended. Then my phone chimed in my hand.

Shane: I can’t believe you hung up on me. You’re damn brave, Mini MacCabe.

I didn’t respond, letting him simmer on being called “okay” and then me hanging up on him.

Shane: You’re running scared since I reminded you how much better than okay I was at making you scream.

Oh, I didn’t need reminding. I was never the one to ignore everything that happened. I was the one who still woke up sweating. I was the one who had trouble breathing when I remembered the ways he had made me scream. How he’d pushed me against the wall in the shower and fell to his knees, never letting his eyes stray from mine. The way he’d dragged his palms up the inside of my thighs until he pushed two fingers roughly inside me. The way he’d propped my thigh on his shoulder and ate my pussy like a starving man. How he pushed me to the brink, just to back off. By the end, I’d had my grip firmly in his hair and began rubbing my cunt against his tongue, threatening his life if he pulled away again.

Oh yeah, I remembered everything.

I swallowed hard and put on a skater skirt and blouse with heels. But before I left, I laid out one more outfit, a leather skirt, thigh high boots, and a skimpy halter top, and took a picture to send to Shane.

Me: I’ll wear this then with my lingerie. Hopefully it’s not too grandmotherly for my date.