"What the fuck does that have to do with anything? I hate to break it to you, but you're Chris Hemsworth hot, Scott. That fucking face of yours is so much trouble," she said, biting her lip.
Was she flirting with me? I flirted my ass off all the time, but her? Unless she was on my dick or really turned on, everything fucking made her blush, but not now. I wasn't used to this. Guys complimented girls on their looks, not the other way around.
"You think I'm hot?" I asked like an idiot.
"I'm fucking you, Scott. Women eye fuck you everywhere you go and I know you are aware of it. Of course you're hot," she said, shrugging her shoulders.
When I blushed like a school boy, she piled it on.
"And handsome. Sexy. Hunky. Good looking," she said with a grin.
"Okay, okay. I get it," I said, trying to remember either of us ever flattering someone we were dating in each other's presence while we were still friends.
It just wasn't something we did. On some level, I always knew talking to her about other women's looks wasn't okay.
"Look, look," she said, imploring me to glance over my shoulder, where our waitress was indeed looking our way.
When the waitress smiled and waved, I turned back around. Not touching that one with a ten foot pole. Stacy remained unfazed, waving back at the waitress.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I said, pulling her hand out of the air with a chuckle.
"I'm marking my territory. Obviously," she said, smiling sweetly at the waitress.
"So you spend first dates obsessing over other people?" I asked with a smirk, enjoying her response to the situation.
"You can't be this oblivious," she said, finally letting go of my hand to throw both of hers up into the air. "When she was taking our drink orders, she said the word offer nine times. Like fucking take me now. And she keeps stuffing her tits in your face."
"Maybe she likes the word offer? It's a good word for a waitress," I said, struggling to keep a straight face. "And no she was not pushing her tits in my face."
Her eyes got a little crazy as she breathed out and said, "This is what's going to happen. When she comes back, every time she says the word offer or bends over to show you her tits, you're going to compliment mine," said Stacy, sending me into a fit of laughter until I realized she wasn't joking.
"Oh dear God, you're serious. Nope, I'm not doing that," I said, shaking my head.
What the fuck? Beyond the whole Jenny incident, I'd never seen Stacy jealous before. She was usually so calm and self assured. As gorgeous as she was, I could understand why.
Is this what jealousy looked like on her? I was a little scared. For both me and the waitress. And a lot turned on.
She gave me a stern look and said, "Sure you are."
"No, Stacy I'm not—"
"Can I offer you guys anything else?" the waitress said, showing up out of nowhere like a fucking ghost, her body bent over the table, her arms squeezing her breasts together.
Stacy mouthed see and I struggled not to go into stitches. Then she grabbed my hand again and squeezed hard, smiling sweetly up at the waitress while staring daggers at her.
Instead of walking away from the crazy chick sitting across from me, as I no doubt would have done if it were anyone else, I indulged her.
"You have huge jugs," I said to Stacy, looking her directly in the eyes.
She squeezed my hand again, indicating that I wasn't done.
"Your tits look amazing when you're braless," I said, feeling my ears reddening.
Subtle, Scott.
At least Stacy was pleased, beaming from ear to ear.
The waitress, somewhat uncomfortable now, withdrew from the table, stood up straight and tried again, "Can I offer you anything to start with?"
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath. "I'll have the lobster," I said looking up at her, still trying not to laugh, not sure if lobster was even on the menu.
"Will that be all or can I offer you something else?" she cooed, batting her eyelashes at me.
"Come on man," I said out loud.
"Crazy bitch," Stacy said with a cough.
I couldn't tell if she was upset or on the verge of bursting into laughter like I was, but she squeezed my hand twice, a twinkle in her eye.
"Salmon for me," she said to the waitress, handing her the menu, mischievous eyes still boring into mine.
Oh she liked this, did she? Okay, two could play at that game.
I brought Stacy's hand to my lips as the waitress claimed my menu, kissed her fingers and said with a cheeky grin on my face, "Your tits feel amazing in my hands. I love sucking on your—"
"That'll be all," said Stacy, breaking eye contact to look up at the waitress, who was more than happy to be on her way.
Stacy and I stared at each other, both red in the face.
"You're fucking crazy, you know that?" I said and we burst out laughing, earning us stares from the people around us. "Stop, stop, you're going to get us thrown out," I said, choking on my laughter.
"No take backs now. You already said you wanted me as your girlfriend," she said, the laughter dying in our throats as she said the words.
"Nothing could ever make me take it back," I said, playing with her fingers.
A man had never been more sorry for ever making a woman believe that she wasn't entirely his.
I almost told her that, but I lost my nerve. I didn't want to spend tonight getting into my head about what might have been instead of enjoying what was.
After dinner, we just sat there and talked for hours. We quizzed each other on things you might tell someone on a first date and obviously she was keeping score on who knew who best. But then so was I. She may be the savant, but I was fluent in Stacy Kendrick.
When she tired of trying to one up me, we started making up little stories for the people around us. By the end of the night, she had given me both of her hands and I was playing with her fingers, staring into her eyes
, and praying for a second date. Foolishly filled with hope, like the besotted idiot I was.