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I try not to look at him while we eat in silence. The only sound is Lola trying desperately to chew herself out of her cage. I can see her out of the corner of my eye, she keeps looking to see if I’m looking at her. I see you bunny, I see you. I risk a glance over at the vet and catch him staring at me. My skin heats up and I can feel my pale face lighting up bright red. Damn my fair complexion, I can’t hide a thing. I bet his dark skin doesn’t blush, you wouldn’t even know he was embarrassed. Being that good-looking should be illegal, really. It should come with some sort of fine at least. He puts his chopsticks down and swallows the mouthful of pork and black bean.

“Look Dion, I need you to stop with the tagging and sending people to the clinic.”

“Why? It’s good for business.” I know it is because I have seen how busy they are — I do a drive by every now and again. Just to see the fruits of my free advertising. Maybe I’m hoping to see him, but I’m not admitting that out loud.

“It is, but I can’t have my face and name all over the place. I have a public image to uphold, and I can get into all sorts of trouble. I’m asking, really nicely, please knock it off.” He seems very concerned about this.

“I want the bunny to stop chewing down my house — it’s not going to happen now is it?” I say, finishing off my food. He shakes his head with a stern frown on his face.

“Look, I don't want to fight.” I do, this is fun. My life is very seldom fun, and this has been amazing for business too. Fighting might be good for him, he seems boring as all hell. My gutter mind does it — it goes there. Imagine wrestling with that. My eyes go to his crotch, I can’t help it. Those dark skinny jeans do nothing to hide what he’s trying to smuggle in there. Let’s just say he is very much in proportion.

“I make no promises,” is all I say, getting up and taking his empty food container. If my half-nakedness bothers him, he doesn’t let it show. I walk down the hall to the kitchen, leaving him on my couch because I need a second to remind my hormones we are not fifteen, they can calm the fuck down. I toss the empty containers in the bin and rinse my hands at the sink.

Deep breath in and out.

“I think I better go.” Jesus! I jump about four feet off the ground. He’s leaning over my island, those bulging arm muscles making my brain soft.

“You don’t have to.” Why did I say that? It’s not like I can entertain him.

“I’m not going to change your mind about this — whatever this thing is. So, I think it’s best I just leave.” I don’t want him to go, Lord alone knows why. But he’s right, he better go because my brain cannot function fully with him in the room. It takes me a few seconds to formulate a reply.

“Whatever.” That’s all I got. My eyes are on the veins in his forearms, and the way his long hair is flowing over his shoulders — hair envy is a real thing. I have it. I have it hard right now.

Hard, fuck. I need him to leave because I’m already undressing him in my mind. Just now I’ll fall pregnant looking at him. He cocks an eyebrow, and I am almost certain he knows where my mind is. I hope that didn’t slip out aloud, that happens sometimes.

“Thanks for dinner, Dion.” He straightens and sees himself out before I can even process all of this. I get to the front door just in time for it to close in my face. I peek through the blinds and see him shaking his head, muttering to himself as he crosses the road to where he parked his truck. He could have just parked in my drive-way — argh! I don’t need him anywhere near my fucking drive-way.

As soon as he drives off, I hop onto a group call with the girls. Because I need to unpack this box of shit that’s in my head before it explodes.

“Dion,” Char greets, and I can see she’s at our favorite wine bar, it’s not long until Olivia and Kerry answer too.

“I just had dinner with the vet.”

“A date?” Kerry blurts out.

“No,” I snap. “Not a date.”

“But you had dinner with him.” Olivia sounds confused.

“He came here, and I was eating, so I invited him in.”

“You did what?”

“It was weird, and his handsomeness made me lose my ever-loving mind for a hot minute.”

“Where is he now?”

“He left,” I say. “It was weird.” It was. My friends laugh at me and pepper me with random questions. “He wants me to stop posting on Instagram.”

“So stop.”

“I don’t want to stop.” I have no good reason for this, but I just don’t want to. “If I stop, he won’t come around here, and I think I like that he just shows up.”

“You have lost your goddamn mind,” Char says. She’s right, but my life has zero excitement in it, and I’m enjoying this.

“He’s nice to look at,” I try to defend myself. “I don't know, I just don’t want to stop, not yet.” I move so I can go sit on the couch.

“What are you wearing?” Olivia yells.

“Good undies and a shirt.”

“Please tell me you just took your pants off now.”

“I never had any on. It would have been weird to put them on once he was in my house.” My friends all look at me with varying levels of horror. “Look, it was awkward, and weird and sort of a date, but not. Fucking hell. I’m going to drink wine and watch Netflix now, you bitches.” I hang up and let them carry on with their Friday night shenanigans. We’ll see each other tomorrow and I’m sure they’ll remind me of this shitshow.