Date Me Like You Mean It

My pink pillow is under his arm.

He’s making a show of it now, really salting the wound.

“Sleep well?” I ask.

“Like a baby,” he says, scratching his scruff. In a bit, he’ll go shave it off. Internally, I plead with him to leave it. Just for a day. Just for me. “I’m actually glad you gave Kelly my pillow. It needed replacing, and this one fits the bill perfectly.”

He pats my pillow like he’s thankful for its service.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed it, because the second you leave for work, I’m stealing it back.”

“That’s fine. If you do, I’ll come swipe it again while you’re sleeping.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” I say, tone deadly serious.

“I would. Dare. Are you almost done with that maze? It’s kind of taking you a while.”

I glance back at the cereal box. “It’s hard. I think it’s meant for teenagers.”

“It says right there it’s intended for children between three and five.”

I squint like I can’t see the big bold letters. “Does it?”

He swipes the cereal box away from me so he can fill his own bowl. He’ll supplement it with egg whites and some sort of protein smoothie slurped through a straw. I will not.

“What’s on the docket for today?” he asks, taking the seat across from me.

And so begins my heroic task of keeping my eyes off his naked chest.

I focus down on my cereal. “First I have to lead a seminar about appropriate dress code in the workplace, and then I’m going to try to have a meeting with my new boss about my future at the company. Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck. You’re an asset at that agency, and they’re lucky to have you.”

That’s right! They are lucky!

Two years ago, I graduated with a degree in communications, assuming I’d move to New York City, work for a fancy ad agency, and become friends with Angelina Jolie’s kids or something. Every day, I’d eat lunch on the stairs of the MET just like Blair Waldorf. Instead, I chickened out, stayed in Texas, and moved three hours south of where I spent my entire adolescence. To some, this may seem like I’m lacking the adventurous spirit, but have you been to New York City? That shit is not for everyone. I am not capable of witnessing a huge rat scurry across the sidewalk in front of me like it’s a normal occurrence. Nope. At least the vermin in Texas know to lurk in the bushes until I’m good and gone.

Unfortunately, staying here limited me in terms of jobs. While I do technically work at an ad agency, it’s only as the office manager. When I first started out, I assumed it’d be a good way to get my foot in the door. Little did I know it’s very hard to get promoted once you’re dubbed admin girl.

That aside, I like living in Austin. It’s filled with an eclectic mix of people. We’ve got greenbelts for hiking and stunning views of the hill country right outside our condo. Also, stunning views of Aiden lifting his cereal spoon to his mouth.

“What?” he asks, demanding to know why I’m staring at him.

“You have milk on your face,” I lie, pushing back from the table.

You would think my infatuation with him would be old news. We’ve lived together for two years! He’s heard me accidentally toot when I (wrongly) assumed it was going to come out of my butt silent. I’ve accidentally seen him naked and lived to tell the tale. And that tale is lengthy. Very lengthy. Wink wink.

It shouldn’t have worked out, us moving in together.

In the beginning, it made no sense.

My parents were not thrilled.

A few weeks after my sister’s wedding, I packed my bags to head to Austin.

“Why don’t you live with one of your girlfriends from college?” my mom asked. “Or I’m sure Jolie knows people in Austin. I have a friend at the club, Deanne—I think her daughter lives there. Why don’t we try to set something up with the two of you?”

I didn’t want to hear any of her suggestions. I’d already made up my mind the minute I called Aiden. It was a brief exchange. He was at work and couldn’t talk for long. I asked him if he was still looking for a roommate. He was. I asked if he’d consider me moving in with him. He made me agree to the stipulation that I wouldn’t shatter any champagne flutes in the condo. Bada bing, bada boom—we had an arrangement.

“Mom, Aiden offered me a place, and I’d be silly to turn it down. The location is great. It’s ten minutes from my new job, and we know him. He’s James’ brother. If I can’t trust him, who can I trust?”

My dad sat me down and made me swear to lock my bedroom door every night. It’s like they thought Aiden was going to maul me upon arrival. Hello! That’s the dream, people!