Page 48 of Dirty

He pushed his thumb against the bill of his hat, lifting it enough that I could see his eyes. His face was cleanly shaven, and he looked like a tattooed little boy. A muscular tattooed little boy.

“I uhhm. I wanted to ask you something,” he stammered.

I shrugged. “You can ask me anything.”

He looked up, inhaled a shallow breath, and locked eyes with me. “Would you want to eat dinner with me? At my mom’s house? Just you, me, and her? She wants to meet you.”

Wow.

He could have said a lot of things. Nothing, however, would have filled me with warmth and excited me as much as what he had asked.

The thought of it made me nervous and excited me at the same time.

“You told her about me?”

“Yeah. I did,” he said. “It was hard not to.”

I felt like I was being asked to prom, and I liked it.

“Yes,” I said. “I’d love to come to dinner and meet her.”

“When?” he asked sheepishly.

I couldn’t help but smile. “When were you thinking?”

He lifted his bill a little more, resting the hat on the back of his head. “You busy now?”

Now?

“Now?” I gasped. “Like now?”

“Or whenever.” He stepped onto the porch. “She cooks dinner every night, even if no one’s there. I was telling her about you, and she wants to meet you. She makes better tacos than I do, I can tell you that.”

You told her about me?

The realization that I was going to meet his mother hit me. My stomach felt nervous.

“I’m not…I need to get ready. I look like I just woke up,” I murmured.

He looked me up and down. “You’re beautiful. You uhhm. You look beautiful.”

I was flattered, but I tried not to show it. “I do not.”

“You do.” He pulled his hat firmly and tilted his head toward the driveway. “Let’s go do it. C’mon.”

He stepped down, took a few steps toward his bike, and then paused. He turned and looked right at me, as if waiting for me to follow him.

As much as I liked the idea of going to dinner, I felt the need to postpone it for at least long enough to prepare mentally and physically. A day would be nice. Maybe two.

My lips parted slightly. I stood like a fool, open-mouthed, gawking at him and mentally searching for what to say.

I felt the need to thank him for the invitation, accept it, and then explain how I simply needed time to prepare. With a stomach filled with butterflies, I cautiously stepped off the porch and walked to his side.

I looked him in the eyes and opened my mouth. Fully prepared to blurt out all the reasons I couldn’t leave with him, I stood there for an instant, mentally fumbling with what to say.

He leaned into the space that separated us until there was nothing left.

I saw it coming, I really did. My heart told me to turn away, but my body and mind offered no resistance.