Page 15 of One More Chance
“Why don’t you just practice with me?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Look, I’m your wedding date anyway. Let’s get to know each other. Be friends. Have conversations. Spend time together. That’s what dating is.”
“And the sex?” she asks.
I nearly choke on nothing at all. “Sex?”
“People who are dating have sex. Surely you don’t expect me to—”
“God, no,” I say.
Harper pulls her head back, my knee jerk reaction sounding a little offensive.
I have to recover. “No, wait. That sounds wrong. Look, don’t get me wrong. You’re a beautiful woman, truly. But maybe given the circumstances, we practice the non-sexual dating components. Then when I leave, you’ll be ready to date with sexual components maybe?” I offer, holding my hand out for her to shake.
“You’re crazy, you know that?” she says.
“Probably.”
Harper reaches out, and I take her hand so we can shake on it. “Yeah, sure. Why not? What could possibly go wrong?” She laughs.
“Great. In the meantime, keep the app. Maybe it’ll help you with your flirting skills or something.” I laugh and stand.
“I know how to flirt,” she says.
“Okay, then. Hit on me,” I challenge.
“What?” she says.
“Come on. Stand up and hit on me,” I say, ushering her to me. I stand square in front of her and watch as she stares down at our feet, wringing out her hands so hard I fear she may start rubbing off her skin.
“Um, okay. Maybe I don’t know how to flirt. But I don’t flirt anyway, right? The guy does. I just stand there and take it,” she says.
Oh dear.This is far worse than I imagined. I didn’t know it was possible to be this clueless as to how to interact with the opposite sex. “Um, no. There was this whole feminist movement. You guys are allowed to hit on us now too,” I joke.
“Well, laughing at me isn’t gonna help,” she says, sitting back down.
“I’m not, okay? Stand back up.”
Harper stands and I usher her forward, guiding her by the small of her back until she’s standing much closer to me. She’s just a whisper away from pressing her entire front side against mine.
“Proximity is everything,” I say. “Now, tell me you had a nice time.”
“What?”
“Pretend it’s the end of a date—our grilled cheese pickle date. Pretend you’re interested in seeing me again, and right before you walk into your place, you’re gonna tell me you had a really nice time in such a way that I’m definitely gonna want to whip out my phone and hit you up for a second date.”
Harper swallows, clearly unsure how she should proceed.
“Do you want me to show you? And then you can think about it and practice later?” I ask.
“Okay,” she says.
I bend down slightly, bringing my face close to hers so our cheeks are almost touching. I blow my breath against her neck and ear as I exhale slowly. My fingers reach for hers and I lace them together, playing with them. “I had a really great time tonight, Harper,” I say, letting her name fall from my mouth slowly, every letter getting time on my lips. I pull away slowly, letting more of my breath tickle her cheek.
I watch as goosebumps trail up her arm and I unlace my fingers from hers. Slowly backing away, I give her my signature Jensen smile. Not the one I give my customers or clients. Not the one I give family or friends. I give her the one I give specifically when I’m trying to seal the deal with a woman. That’s what I’m trying to show her after all, right?