Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Johnathon takes me by the hand, leading me from my condo to the parking lot.
“Maritza,” I hear my name and look to see Dia coming my way.
“Hey Dia, how ya doing?” I greet her as she gives me a quick side hug.
“Long day at work. I’m sure Skye is dying to go out now. I was wondering if you’d be joining Mariella and I for facials tonight.” She smiles sweetly at Johnathon, “but I guess I have my answer.”
“I don’t know I might be home before y’all finish. I have work tomorrow so can’t have too late of a night,” I tell her honestly and feel Johnathon tense beside me. “This is Johnathon, we’re headed out for dinner.” I look to my date, “this is Dia, she’s my sister’s best friend, but one of my closest friends too. I guess you could say we have joint custody of her.”
It might hurt his feelings, but it’s the truth. I’ll be home early and not just because I have to work tomorrow. I don’t have sex on the first date. I don’t even go back to a dude’s house on the first date. One thing I’ve learned between my own relationships and what happened to my sister, don’t set myself up for a situation that can get out of hand. Always maintain my safety and stay in places where I have the advantage. A new location, such as someone else’s home, adds an additional danger to a potentially unsafe situation.
“Alright, you two kids have fun. Nice to meet you, Johnathon,” she tells him extending her hand in greeting.
“Pleasure is all mine, Dia.” Johnathon tells her before she walks away. “She seems sweet,” he tells me guiding me along the way to his car.
“They broke the mold when Dia Crews was born. She’s the best. Everyone loves her.”
“You have a lot of people who care about you,” he states as we approach a small sedan. He opens the champagne-colored door, and I slide in.
“I’m very lucky for my family, Dia included.”
He doesn’t reply as he rounds the small car and gets in the driver’s seat. He starts the car, and we pull away. The silence is uncomfortable for me, but he seems fine with it. A few minutes pass and I can’t help but want there to be something said.
“Where are we going for dinner?”
“I thought we could go to the new ice-cream parlor.”
For dinner? I think but don’t ask. “Okay, sounds good. Who doesn’t love ice-cream?” I aim to ease this weirdness between us.
“Someone who is dairy free,” he responds dryly.
Umm … he’s not wrong, but what can I say back to that. We sit in silence a few more moments but thankfully arrive at the new place quickly.
“Sit tight,” he tells me before getting out and rounding his car to open my door. At least he’s trying to do the traditional gentlemen things.
We enter the small shop in the strip mall. The walls are painted in pastel pink and green with a glass display and a bar with old school diner style stools in front of it. Johnathon leads me to a booth in the back rather than to the counter to order. I find it odd but decide to roll with how this goes.
My last date said I had too much masculine energy and didn’t know how to let a man be a man. Maybe this is what I’m supposed to do, release control.
Although, I wonder how he knows what I want to eat.
Taking my seat, I wait for him to come back over and I’m a little shocked when he takes a seat beside me, essentially trapping me in the booth.
He places the banana split boat in front of us, along with the cup of water with two straws.
“I don’t eat pineapple,” he explains, “I had them give us two chocolates instead.”
I nod unsure what to say as he hands me a spoon. Rather than dive in, I reach for the glass.
“The shorter straw is yours,” he states taking a spoonful of the ice-cream. “Water is free here, but only one cup. Your straw is the shorter one.”
I nod taking a sip. What in the world have I gotten into? I contemplate getting my own order, when he slurps the vanilla treat from his spoon into his mouth.
Immediately, my stomach churns from the noise. How old is this man to slurp his food? Not that I was turned on to begin with, but with every passing moment, I am ready to get home.
He continues to eat not noticing that I haven’t had a single bite. He finishes in silence before taking the drink and making sure he sucks down every drop to the point that the straw makes the obnoxious noise of an empty glass.
After he slides from the booth and stands, I follow suit, thankful that this is another moment closer to home and pajamas. When he takes me by the hand to leave, I am beyond ready. “I bought the meal; you have the tip?” He asks gesturing for me to leave cash on the table.