Page 11 of The P*ssy Next Door

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Page 11 of The P*ssy Next Door

I'd give him a minute while I brushed my teeth and ran a brush through my ponytail. I still hadn't told him where we were going, and I hoped he was at least slightly food adventurous. I'd known him most of my life, but honestly didn't really know him at all. I was rarely allowed to hang out with my brother and his friends, especially once we hit puberty.

Xan was always warning his teammates and buddies that I was off-limits. Whatever. I hadn't really cared that much because, besides their butts, I wasn't into athletes. I liked someone who could talk books, or had traveled or wanted to, or other things that according to my brother were nerdy.

So I'd dated the drama nerds, or the band geeks, or the AV club guys, which turned out to be code for gamer boys. Gamer boy plus book girlie was a great combo because I could read while he gamed, and that counted as spending quality time together. Although, not real romantic.

I couldn't imagine Hayes sitting around on his couch for hours on end. Zan could never sit still for more than a few minutes. They'd never know the joy of curling up with a cat and a good book for a long weekend afternoon.

Wait, where had Seven gone? I wanted to give him another snuggle before I headed out. Poop face.

I put on a layer of mascara, some light lip gloss, and dotted some vanilla behind my ears, on my wrists, and just for good measure, a touch of it right between my boobs. Might as well manifest some making out in my future. And then I put a fingerful of vanilla down my pants.

Now I really hoped Hayes was an adventurous eater.

MISADVENTURES IN EATING

HAYES

This was my first ever real date. With an actual woman. I was going to rock it, just like I did everything else I put my mind to.

The doorbell rang and my heart leapt into my throat. Game time. I dragged in a deep breath and headed to open it, plastering on what I hoped was a casual smile.

“Hey,” I greeted Willa, unable to stop my eyes from roving over her form-fitting jeans and the pretty pink sweater she was wearing. I swear I was just admiring the color and not staring at the way her boobs were so soft looking and round, just begging for me to press my face between them.

She looked incredible with those stray loose curls that weren't pulled up into her ponytail framing her face. Willa was a beautiful, curvy woman who made my brain short-circuit just thinking about her.

Bad brain, bad, bad brain. Get on track.

“So, uhh, where are we headed?” I asked, rubbing my sweaty palms against my jeans.

“This little hole-in-the-wall Vietnamese place over on 120th. I'll show you where to go.”

“Okay, cool.” I tried not to let my nerves show. This was already so far out of my experience zone. Shouldn't I be taking her somewhere fancy for a first date?

As we headed out to my car, she looped her arm through mine, and I couldn't breathe for a second. The sweet vanilla scent of her hair wafted around me and her body was pressed against my side. Was she trying to kill me?

Don't screw this up, Kingman. This might be your only chance.

By the time we arrived at the run-down little shopping plaza, my palms were straight up drenched. The first date checklist I'd downloaded was basically already thrown out the window. I didn't even know whether I was supposed to open her car door or not.

Luckily, Willa didn't seem to notice my internal panic and grabbed my hand to tug me along as we approached a run-down looking restaurant with a strange name on the weathered sign.

“Pho seventeen,” I said, reading the name out loud. “Is this a restaurant?”

“It's not faux, like fake. It's pronounced fuh, as in fuh-cking incredible. I hope you like it.” She beamed up at me. “Supposed to be the best ph? in Denver, or so the internet reports.”

Inside, it was just a small room crammed with tables and chairs, decorated with enormous photos of green tree'd islands on a lake, and a picture menu on the opposite wall. At least I'd have a clue what I was ordering, even though none of it looked even vaguely familiar. The aroma of spices did smell good though.

A tiny man around a hundred and seventy with a drawn face and glasses emerged through swinging kitchen doors. He pointed for us to choose from any one of the four top tables and went to grab us some menus.

I pulled out a chair for Willa and her eyes crinkled smiling up at me. Check one off for the first date etiquette list. I really fucking wanted to show her I could be more than an athlete. I was also a gentleman who would treat her right.

Once she was seated, I slid in next to her instead of across. Side by side was more intimate, and I stretched my arm along the back of her chair as if it was no big deal, then wrapped my arm around her shoulder. Nailed it.

Willa laughed and shook her head at me. That was not the reaction I'd been hoping for. Before I could analyze what I'd done wrong, our waiter handed over the menus. Thank god for those pictures. I'd definitely be pointing, even though there were words in English too. None of them were anything I'd ever heard of outside of the noodles and rice.

Our waiter looked bored until Willa opened her mouth. “Xin chào. Tôi mu?n d?t hai tô ph? tái.”

At first the waiter looked at her like she was on crack, but quickly broke into a smile and replied. “Ô! B?n nói ti?ng Vi?t r?t t?t! Tôi r?t ?n tu?ng.”




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