"I think you look great. Just ease up on the bread. It makes you bloat." She looked shocked for a second before she noticed my smirk.
"Just for that I'm getting another slice," she said.
"Just one. I still want to be able to carry you."
"If that gets hard for you, I think you should be the one who has to do something about it," she said, smiling at me. I laughed.
"They didn't feed us enough in Afghanistan to keep my weight up."
"You can still play though, can't you?" she asked. I said that I could, and then we got into MREs. She had heard about what they were but it was a different story actually eating them and hearing about what they might be like from a person who might or might not know.
At first, I was a little cautious talking about my deployment, but she was interested in finding out. It had been the thing that had sort of spurred the breakup. I had actually done it, but if I had never had to go, who knew where our relationship would be by now. I wanted to be able to talk about it with her. In some fucked up way, it was part of our history, even though we were apart the entire time. She never ended up getting that second slice.
It was around ten-thirty when I parked in front of her building and stopped the car.
"I had fun tonight," she said. She was looking at me. Her seatbelt was off and her body was turned in the seat, knees up against the center console.
"I did, too."
"Thank you," she said flirtatiously. It was pretty warm outside, but that had nothing to do with the warmth spreading through my chest. The whole car felt like it was heating up. I touched her knee, brushing my thumb against her unblemished skin.
"Anytime," I said. She held my hand in both of hers, turning it palm up. I watched her for a few seconds, letting my hand warm between the two of hers. The movement made the skirt of her dress fall down her thigh a little. She looked up and our eyes met. We hadn't had anything to drink that night, but her cheeks were flushed and her lips parted.
"Come here," I said to her. She let go of my hand and held the back of my seat, climbing into my lap. Our lips met, hard, and I pushed my tongue into her mouth. There wasn't much foot traffic this time of night, but anyone who was curious could look through the window and probably call the cops on us for indecent exposure.
She moaned softly as our tongues collided. I ran my hands up her thighs, squeezing her ass cheeks in my palms. I wasn't going to try to fuck her in the car – we were both way too old for that – but the night had been on a steady upswing since we had gotten to the buffet. You knew a date was good when you got to a girl’s house to drop her off and she didn't want to leave. We stopped before we started fogging up the windows.
"Let me walk you up," I said, opening the door and letting her climb out first. I followed, taking her hand. Our fingers laced together like they knew that that was what they were supposed to do. I always used to hold her right hand so she was on my left; that meant I wouldn't have to let go if I needed to use it. She let go, though, because she needed hers to unlock her apartment. I walked in after her. I could pretend that I didn't want to finish what we started in the car, but I wasn't going to lie.
"Are you in a hurry?" she asked, slipping her purse off her shoulder.
"Nope. Not at all. Why?" I asked.
"I don't really want you to leave," she said after a pause. I walked over to her.
"I'll stay as long as you want me to."
"Would you leave if I asked you to do that?" There was about two feet between us.
"If you asked me to, yeah," I said, wondering where this was going. "Do you want me to go?"
"No, but you have to, don't you?"
"What? I do
n't have to be anywhere tonight, Ron."
"Not right now, I mean later. After you go to the combine and someone gives you a contract, and you have to relocate to play on their team," she said.
"Ron, the combine only lasts a week. Nothing after that is set in stone. I can't say any of that is going to happen. Chances are that it won't."
"Yes it will, Roman, you're a fantastic player," she said, a little annoyed like it hurt her to say it.
"Even if something did, what's wrong with that?"
"You would leave. You wouldn't be able to turn down the offer."
"I wouldn't just leave. I'd talk to you about it first. We’d figure something out."