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“Okay, what did you hear?”
“Hudson’s voice carries, and you weren’t that quiet, so probably more than you wanted me to, but …” She takes a sip and lifts a shoulder. “Life’s not always perfect, and that’s okay, right?”
“I get dizzy on your sass. I’m not sure what will happen if you give me too much of the sweet.”
She takes another drink then walks over and sets the half-full glass on the counter as she slides onto a stool. “So, your ex, she sounds like a real twat.”
I bark out a laugh, and she smiles big.
“She has a type, and I no longer fit the bill.”
“You were a teacher?”
“Yeah, middle school history, just for a couple of years after the football thing didn’t pan out. I was working on my Master’s, going to stick with it. Liked the kids, got to coach. I was happy.”
“What does your ex do?”
“Sucks a mean d—” I stop and groan as I scrub a hand over my face. “Sorry, that was rude.”
She points to herself. “I did just call her a twat.”
I walk around the island so I’m across from her, bend over, and rest my elbows on it. “She’s a teacher.”
She laughs—and hard, too. “What the hell is wrong with people?”
I study her perfect face and shake my head. “So, I’m a poor kid from Bumfuck, Virginia, really digging on a hot redhead who’s a doctor. I’m one injury away from going back to teaching middle school. Tell me, what the hell am I doing, trying to keep a girl like you interested in a guy like me?”
“I lived in Bumfuck, Texas, in a trailer with wheels, in a field, and was raised by my sister, who’s only three years older than me but managed to outsmart a whole town so we didn’t get separated again.”
“First, I’m even hotter for you now. And what did you mean by again?”
“Yeah, my father had her sent away after he …” She swallows hard and shakes her head. “It’s a long story. It’s not second-base talk.”
“Third. We got to third tonight.”
She holds out a fist. “Go, us.”
I tap it. “You’re fucking adorable.”
“I know; you’ve mentioned that. And you’re hot and philosophical. Oh, and you give amazing orgasms.”
“Yeah?”
She nods as she pushes a few curls behind her ear. “I’m sorry your dad’s a dick.”
“I’m sorry yours is.”
She slides off her stool and looks at me. “So, do you want, like, something in return for them?”
“Like a handy?” I joke.
She shrugs.
I walk around the island, take her hand, walk us over to the pantry, and open the door. “What I want is to take you on a date. Get you flowers maybe?” I nod to the calendar she’s already eyeballing. “This is my calendar; it’s a lot. My career’s a lot, but I’m liking this thing we’re starting. If you can handle that, you pick the dates and times, and I’ll give you my full attention.”
She grabs the dry erase pen and looks at me. “And orgasms?”
“Fuck yeah, as many as you want.”
