First - Page 56

I stumble my way to the kitchen, focused on getting a glass of water and some aspirin. Dally’s left out a glass and a pill bottle along with the note, ‘Hit start on microwave. OJ in fridge. Call me when you feel human.’

I punch the start button, fill the glass with water, and down the aspirin. When the microwave beeps, I open it and am immediately overwhelmed with the morning-after’s best scent: eggs and grease and cheese.

The breakfast burrito Dally left for me and a glass of OJ goes a long way to making me feel better. I take a long shower, throw on a pair of shorts and the well-worn shirt Dally brought back for me from his high school theme park grad night. Life can’t get much better as I curl up on the sofa with my laptop and phone.

Dally doesn’t answer my call; it might be a busy morning at the shop though. ‘Hey,’ I say to his voice mail, ‘thanks for the hangover cure. And … you know … for everything else last night.’ I grimace. ‘That sounded dirty. I didn’t mean it to.’ Why is this going so wrong? ‘Umm … call when you can.’

I toss my phone to the other end of the couch, eyeing it with disgust. I will not go all gooey or awkward just because Dally finally agreed to help me. Nothing has changed. Except that soon I’ll get to see his penis. Thinking of that makes me go all warm—

Okay Cat, refocus. It’s time to get ready for your big night.

Tonight or tomorrow? If I put it off, he might chicken out. Can’t have that. Tonight. Definitely tonight.

A quick review sets out my plan for the day. Step one: wash sheets. I return to my room, drag the linens to the laundry room, and start the wash. Step two: plan a romantic dinner. An Internet search gives me several recipes that are not only classy, but quick to cook. I add a grocery list to my phone. Step three: cute underwear.

Hmm … It only takes me five minutes of digging through my drawer to discover I don’t own anything that could really be considered ‘sexy’ or ‘alluring.’ I finally pull out my cutest pair of undies and nicest bra, setting them to the side as a back-up in case I can’t find anything when I go out shopping today.

Step four: mood lighting. I select my favourite candles and arrange them artfully around my bed. I light them and step back to admire my work. They only need a few adjustments, which I make before blowing them out.

And finally, step five: sex stuff.

An hour’s worth of browsing and careful note taking gives me a decent list of every first timer’s needs. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to find a vibrating penis ring—whatever that is—at the local drugstore. This will require a field trip.

The nearest adult store is only fifteen minutes away and has received several positive reviews according to Yelp. I scan over my list one last time and try calling Dally again. Voicemail.

‘I’m going shopping really fast. I’ll have my phone on though.’

It’s difficult to decide which trip to make first. I’m sitting in the Camaro, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel when Maya calls.

‘Hi,’ she chirps. ‘I’m here to be the annoying, nosy friend who lied about not wanting all the gory details.’

‘No gory details. Sorry.’

‘What?’

‘My v-card is still safely tucked behind my driver’s licence.’

‘What happened?’

‘Let’s see … Tom and I went to Lou’s and hung out with some of his friends. Robin the douchette was there

. Somehow I convinced Tom that doing tequila body shots off me was a good idea. We were just starting to get somewhere when Dally showed up, punched Tom in the face, and dragged me out.’

‘No way—’

‘Yes way. I guess one of his buddies from work was at the bar and sent him a video of me.’

Maya’s laughing so hard I’m sure there are tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘Oh my God, Catherine. Your love life sucks. You can’t make this stuff up!’

I let her enjoy herself for a moment before clearing my throat. ‘Maya, while I enjoy listening to you mock my inability to get laid, I wasn’t done.’

‘What could you possibly tell me to improve on that story?’

‘Dally said yes.’

Crickets. Big, fat, successful crickets who are leading the Hallelujah chorus.

‘He—he said yes?’ she repeats in amazement.

Tags: M.A. Grant Erotic
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