He moves closer and strokes my arm. In a gentle tone, he says, “If it’s any consolation, I’m glad—not that he treated you so badly but that you never actually had sex with him. If we end up having sex, I promise I won’t be a dickwad, Cate, and I’ll make it as good as a first time can be.” He gives me an understanding nod.

What other sweet tricks does this guy have up his sleeve? “Are you for real?”

“I’m not following.”

“Everything about you. Most guys would be tearing my clothes off, but you’re more concerned about making me feel good when we do it. I’ve never met anyone like you before.” I place my hand on his chest, hoping he doesn’t mind, because I have this pressing need to touch him.

His hand covers mine. “I hope that’s a good thing. I want everything to be right for you.”

“See, that’s what I mean. You always say the right thing.”

“No, I don’t. I’m on my good behavior right now because I’m trying to impress you. But can I tell you it’s taking everything I have inside of me not to roll you underneath me and do all sorts of dirty things to you?”

“Drew?”

“Yeah?”

“I swear to god, I want you to do dirty things to me.”

He takes my hand and kisses it. “I will. Only not tonight.”

“Drew?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you give me some idea when this magical date will take place so I can do other things until that time?” His body shakes with laughter.

“How about next weekend?”

“Really? You mean it?”

“Yeah.” He faces me and says, “I mean it. Now you promised you’d behave. You’re not exactly making this easy on me.”

“Okay, but if you think this is easy for me, I need to let you in on a little secret. It’s not.”

“Good. Then we’re even.”

“I need to tell you another secret.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“I waxed Sasquatch for you. She’s all nice and smooth, like a baby’s butt. Guess you’ll have to wait until next weekend to see it.”

I think I hear him groan.

“Drew, are you okay?”

“Yeah Cate.” His voice is all hoarse though.

“I had fun tonight.”

“Same here.”

“Can I get just one little kiss?” I ask.

“Only if you promise not to dry hump me. That would be my undoing.”

That makes me laugh so hard, I actually snort.

THE CAR DRIVES LIKE A DREAM, or maybe I’m just used to subway trains and taxis these days. As I take in a deep breath, I catch his scent and think again of seeing Andy naked under the sheets. He was hard and ready. I can’t deny I was just as ready for him.

Only the dull ache is still there. The memories of that long ago day are ever present. How can I forget the past, even if I want to?

My phone chimes, but traffic is still a bear. I let the call go to voicemail until I realize it might be Drew… Andy. It’s so hard to think of him by this new name. I fumble in my purse and almost rear end someone. Wouldn’t that be great? Calling him to cancel dinner because I totaled his car wouldn’t be the ideal way of starting fresh.

Thank goodness for fingerprint recognition. I unlock my phone with a touch of my thumb and sneak a glance at the screen as traffic is stopped in front of me. Jenna.

I reach to turn the volume down on the radio and accidently hit an extra button.

A sultry voice cuts the song off and says, “Bluetooth recognized. Would you like to sync this phone?”

“Yeah right,” I say flippantly.

“Bluetooth accepted.”

“What?” I ask out loud, surprised the car understood me. A pop up box appears on my phone and draws my eye. I hit okay to allow my phone to pair with his car, even though when I’d spoken out loud, I’d been kidding. I like new techie stuff, so I test the waters.

“Call Jenna.”

Calling Jenna. Home or work?

“Mobile,” I say instead.

The phone rings through the audio system and I’m entranced but focused on the road again.

“Hey you. I just called.”

“I know. I’m driving.”

After the words pop out of my mouth, I realize my mistake.

“Driving? Did you buy a new car? I thought you didn’t want to have one.”

“No, it’s a friend’s. What’s up? Why’d you call?” I ask brusquely, scrambling to divert our conversation away from the car. I’m just not ready to talk about Drew yet.

“I can’t call you?” The way she over dramatizes her mock offense gets a laugh out of me.

“Of course you can. You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“No, really, I’m just checking on you. Last we talked you were going to happy hour with your coworkers. I’m so hoping you met a man and ended your dry spell.”

I can see her scolding look in my head as she speaks.

“Will every conversation always make it back to my sex life?”

“I don’t know there, Sasquatch, but I’m hoping you at least did a bit of landscaping.”

I sigh. “I keep it up now, Mom,” I say dramatically. “Thanks to you for forcing me to get that little wax job, I’ve been traumatized into keeping up my maintenance on Louise.”

Shuddering, I laugh at the memory as her cackles echo through the car’s sound system.

“Seriously though, did you meet someone?”

“Happy hour was a no go,” I admit. “My coworker hit on me, though.”

See, it wasn’t totally a lie. I just edit myself. I need to tell Jenna about Drew in person.

“Oh, do tell.”

I give her the details that I can remember ending with Daniel hailing us a taxi.

“Daniel looks like Clark Kent. Sounds promising.”

“Sounds more like it’s never going to happen. I can’t date a guy at work. If things go south, it would be too awkward. And then one of us will have to quit and I like this job,” I say, spitting out a diatribe of words.

She sighs. “When I get there in a few weeks, I will so get you laid if you haven’t already managed to find a hit-it-and-run guy by yourself.”

“Hit-it-and-run?”

“Yes! You need a good one-nighter before you’ll be ready for any man. Otherwise, if you’re into a guy and screw him after a dry spell, you’ll scare the poor guy off with cling wrap moves.”

I laugh and she follows.

“Speaking of which, what’s going on with you and a certain guy?”

“Shh, we shall not speak of it. I am working on something. But I have to run. Duty calls. I have to take mother shopping. Chat with you later.”

She’s definitely hiding something, but I don’t press her because I am, too. Once I get into DC, it’s slower going. They have red light cameras, speed cameras, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they have overhead cameras to determine if a driver is holding a phone in their hands while operating a vehicle.

As I turn into a public lot a block from my building, my phone buzzes again. I wait for my turn to get a ticket before I answer.

I see the name on the display just before I say, “Hello.”

The whispered response is so faint, I say, “Mandy, let me call you back. I’m going to lose this signal.”

“Don’t call,” she whispers loudly. “I’ll call you back in ten minutes.”

“Okay,” I say, taking the ticket. The call ends so abruptly, I don’t know if I lost it or if she hung up right away.

I find a sweet spot next to a wall and large enough that anyone who parks next to me can open their door wide and not ding Drew’s car… Andy’s.

In my tiny apartment, I plunk my purse down on the small bistro table in my makeshift eat-in kitchen slash dining room.

My phone rings before I can take another step. I answer and immediately I’m assaulted with Mandy’s demand for information.

“Tell me what happened last night.”

She’s still whispering, so I assume she’s hung over.

I head back to my room with the phone tucked between my shoulder and ear as I begin to take off my day-old clothes.

“Nothing, happened, we drank a lot and sang karaoke. Why?”