“Wait, you’re going out with Dan the Man?” August asked sounding more amused than bewildered. Dan had a habit, or more of an obsession if you will, of talking about himself. A Lot. He was one of those guys who could do everything, had seen everything, and knew everything. He also had a habit of referring to himself as “the man,” hence the nickname.
“It’s just a date,” I said not wanting to elaborate on the specifics. Mainly, the fact that I had answered my phone before checking caller ID because I was busy sketching the tail of a marlin.
“Yeah, but a date?” August asked for clarification. I nodded because, again, I didn’t want to elaborate. Not on the fact that I had said yes to a quick drink at Tommy’s with Dan to purge the person who donned the marlin on his bicep from my mind.
“So, are you interested in him, or…what is this?” Kensie asked.
“This, is just a drink. I figure if I go out with him this one time, he will see how incompatible we are and leave me alone once and for all.”
“Or you could just not go out with him,” August said earning himself another kick in the shin from his beloved.
“Why don’t you give Wes a call and go out with him instead?”
“Give it up, Mom,” I said to her and stood up from the table. I looked around at my parents, August, and Kensie “And stop prying into my dating life. It’s just a drink.”
Okay, it wasn’t just a drink. Dan and I had plans to meet each other at Tommy’s at eight, and he showed up at my house at seven-thirty decked out in a pair of Dockers with a button up shirt and a blazer. A blazer. To a bar. If that and his old man pants weren’t enough, he had doused himself in a pungent odor that I could only describe as a teenage boy after gym class. So Dan showed up dressed like my dad’s fifty-year-old golf buddy reeking of Axe.
Thanks to his odor, I had to roll down my window to keep my migraine at bay, which allowed me to simply nod my head in understanding while Dan’s lips moved to the glorious sound of only wind in my ears. I didn’t even mind the tangled mess my hair had become and simply pulled it into a side braid before exiting the car to go into Tommy’s.
One drink with a guy like Dan in actuality meant one Cosmo, followed by a glass and a half of water with lemon, and two restroom breaks. Each time I returned from the ladies’ room, I’d remain standing and reach for my purse, but he’d continue right where he left off with his monologue about wanting to start his own clothing line.
“My buddy knows a guy who can do the silk screening for half cost.”
“Mmhmm.”
“So that gives me a larger budget to advertise on campus.”
‘Cause I was sure college-aged men wanted to look like Bill Gates on the bottom and Miami Vice on the top. “Mmhmm.”
“And then a guy I met on an entrepreneur Facebook group is going to help me patent my logo.”
“Mmhmm.”
“And what’s that gonna say. Douche Pricks R Us?” I jumped from my fog of boredom, spilling my water all over the table.
“Sorry, C.” Wes leaned over my back grabbing loose napkins and laying them across the stream of water. His arms were propped on either side of the table encasing me under him, and somehow leaving me more open than I’d felt all night. After successfully covering the table with layers of brown napkins, Wes moved back only to leave faint wisps of his cologne pulling lazily away from me. I fought the urge to grab onto one and reel him back in.
“And you are?” Dan asked, reminding me of what I was doing here. Wes pulled the chair that sat between Dan and me out and spun it around before sitting down with his arms draped over the back.
“Wes,” he answered sitting up proudly with a grin stretching clear across his face dimple to dimple. A smile paired with an odd garbled half-laugh escaped my mouth. What the crap was that? Thankfully the two were more focused on each other than me and didn’t notice my giggle vomit.
“Wes, this is Dan.” I nodded across the table at my date.
“Her date,” Dan said sizing Wes up.
“Uh-huh. And by date what do you mean exactly?” Wes asked, and I groaned inwardly. Here he goes.
“By date, I mean she and I are here together. Just she and I.” Dan sat up and buttoned the top button of his jacket.
“Nice blazer,” Wes commented, and I giggle vomited again.
“Nice beanie,” Dan said.
Nice beanie, indeed. Wes had the thick cotton pulled down to his eyebrows. Something about a man in a beanie, or maybe just Wes in a beanie, was utterly and completely hot. Maybe it was the way a beanie highlighted the sharp, defined edges of his jawline. Or maybe it was the way it cast a dark, rebellious shadow onto his otherwise mischievous and playful expressions. Or maybe I should stop staring at Wes in a beanie, and instead chastise him for crashing my date.
“We’re on a date, Wes,” I said reflecting how bored I’d felt before Wes showed up. So maybe chastise was the wrong verb to use.
“Right on.” He nodded toward the waitress at a neighboring table. “Leinenkuegal, Jess.” Psh. Jess.
“Seriously?” Dan said more to himself than to either of us, but I was too busy watching Jess prance away in her way too tight True Religions.
“So, how’s the date going?” Wes’ eyes skipped back and forth between the two of us. He either didn’t hear Dan or chose to ignore him as I had.
“It’s great,” I said pushing my martini glass away and sitting forward toward him, placing my elbows on the table. Manners shmanners.
“Oh, yeah?” Wes countered looking only at me.
“Yeah. Wonderful.” I looked just as hard back.
“Wow, wonderful, huh?”
“Yeah. Perfect, even.” I sat back and crossed one leg over the other not even worrying about adjusting my black canvas shorts that had pulled up a little too high.
Wes’ eyes left mine and darted down toward my legs where they froze. Then widened. Then he cleared his throat. “Perfect.” Scratch that. Canvas short length was just right.
I shifted under his stare, and his eyes jumped back up to mine. They narrowed in determination and the corner of his mouth pulled up into a tiny smirk. So tiny, that most wouldn’t notice it, but I was well versed in Wes’ smiles, and this one didn’t escape me.
“So,” Wes’ smirk morphed into a full-scale facetious grin. Crap. “What’s her favorite color?”
“What?” Dan clipped, and Wes swung his head back toward him.
“Capri’s favorite color. What is it?” He nodded at Jess, who had leaned over far more than necessary to place his beer on the table, but Wes kept his challenging stare on Dan.
“Um, blue?” Dan said sitting up straighter and lifting his chin a smidgen more in the air. To be fair, he was really destined for failure on that question
“Nope. White.” Whoa. I didn’t expect Wes to nail that, although, to be fair, I wore it almost exclusively. Still, Wes noticing that was surprising to me.
“What’s her favorite movie?”
“The Notebook?” Dan wiggled in his chair.
“Ten Things I Hate About You.” Wes tipped back his beer and thumped it back down on the table. “Okay, what about her favorite band?”
“No, you know what. No. This is stupid. None of this really matters anyway.” Dan crossed his arms over his tiny chest.
“The Civil Wars, but okay, how about something more meaningful. Something you should be interested in asking your date instead of talking about yourself the whole time.” Wes leaned forward as Dan leaned back.
“Wha-what?” Dan stuttered.
“Because from where I was standing,” Wes tossed his head back toward an empty seat at the bar, “you did nothing but talk your ass off the whole time while Capri sat here looking bored as fuck.”