just told him we’ve been texting each other.
Tara: Ok,just tell him U didn’t get thru 2 me. I must have turned my phone off.
Dalia: Ok, TTYL.
Tara: Bye
I went back to Carter:
Dalia: She’s not answering me either, sorry.
Carter: No probs, ‘laters babe.’
~~~
I didn’t go to the door when the doorbell rang. The last thing I wanted, was to appear anxious. I hair-sprayed my curly brown locks for the fourth or fifth time until I was absolutely sure every strand wouldn’t budge. Tara was always teasing me about my spray usage. If she ever found out my hairdo attracted bee’s in the summer, she’d never let me hear the end of it. I toned it down whenever she was around.
My carefully selected outfit was a beige camisole with a black form fitting jacket overtop and my holiest faded denim blue jeans. I couldn’t even wear underwear because the tear under my ass was so high you would see them. The only thing I could wear with my favourite jeans was a thong and I hated wearing them, that hole wedge issue.
I spent the most time on perfecting my face. I created a soft smokey look to my eyes. My lips were coloured a stunning shade of red with a frosty pink colour in the centre giving the illusion of a pout. I lightly glossed them to complete the art piece.
Idiotically, thinking Adam would like seeing me done up, I took a selfie and sent it to him before turning my phone off and joining the others. I never imagined he would be texting me countless numbers of times during the evening asking why I was so dressed up just to meet a skating partner.
I deliberately focussed on the stairs rather than the front door. Their stares were cast directly on me, it was palpable. I nodded a polite greeting to whom I assumed was Mrs. Kennedy offering her my hand, “Nice to meet you Mrs. Kennedy.” She was my height and a very handsome looking lady with short brown hair and hazel eyes.
“The pleasure is mine,” she reciprocated.
I was morbidly curious, dying to know what Ryan looked like. I hid it in my slow gestures, turning my head down and towards him, letting my eyes drift, up, up, really fucking high up. Usually height wasn’t the first thing I noticed or cared about, but when I’m supposed to be lifted overtop his head while he’s figure skating, it’s damn important. The guy was too fucking tall! He had to be a good four inches taller than Adam. If I had to guess, 6’3! Skates also add two more inches, all the higher to fall from. So now I’m picturing myself being held up by one hand six and a half feet in the air while the guy who apparently walks on water skates across the ice. Ya, that’s not going to happen.
Another obstacle involuntarily made my eyes linger, his shoulders. Some crazy person must have shoved boulders under his skin because there was no way those were his actual muscles! I caught myself staring at his deltoids, and trapezius wanting to let my eyes coast back downwards hoping to catch a glimpse of his pectorals, and oh my God how I would love to see his gluteus maximus. I inhaled slowly forcing my eyes back on their journey upwards. I abhorred my own behaviour, knowing I was treating him like the piece of meat he was, grilled to perfection, and smoking hot.
My eyes beheld his, frozen in locked position, the most intense dreamy brown eyes I’d ever seen, melted dark chocolate. They matched his wispy longish brown hair perfectly. This is the guy whom I hate? Now I had to rethink it!
Adam, Adam I chanted in my head. I had to remember Adam. Ryan’s looks alone were the last thing I expected, but I was sure he had to be cocky, selfish, arrogant or something. Talking myself down wasn’t working.
I amazed myself at how shallow I was being. I was stunned stupid at the sight of him. I shook it off and held out my hand to greet him, “Hi I’m Dalia, nice to meet you.” He scooped my hand gently into his never for a second breaking eye contact with me. Unmistakeable chemistry was
Tara: Ok,just tell him U didn’t get thru 2 me. I must have turned my phone off.
Dalia: Ok, TTYL.
Tara: Bye
I went back to Carter:
Dalia: She’s not answering me either, sorry.
Carter: No probs, ‘laters babe.’
~~~
I didn’t go to the door when the doorbell rang. The last thing I wanted, was to appear anxious. I hair-sprayed my curly brown locks for the fourth or fifth time until I was absolutely sure every strand wouldn’t budge. Tara was always teasing me about my spray usage. If she ever found out my hairdo attracted bee’s in the summer, she’d never let me hear the end of it. I toned it down whenever she was around.
My carefully selected outfit was a beige camisole with a black form fitting jacket overtop and my holiest faded denim blue jeans. I couldn’t even wear underwear because the tear under my ass was so high you would see them. The only thing I could wear with my favourite jeans was a thong and I hated wearing them, that hole wedge issue.
I spent the most time on perfecting my face. I created a soft smokey look to my eyes. My lips were coloured a stunning shade of red with a frosty pink colour in the centre giving the illusion of a pout. I lightly glossed them to complete the art piece.
Idiotically, thinking Adam would like seeing me done up, I took a selfie and sent it to him before turning my phone off and joining the others. I never imagined he would be texting me countless numbers of times during the evening asking why I was so dressed up just to meet a skating partner.
I deliberately focussed on the stairs rather than the front door. Their stares were cast directly on me, it was palpable. I nodded a polite greeting to whom I assumed was Mrs. Kennedy offering her my hand, “Nice to meet you Mrs. Kennedy.” She was my height and a very handsome looking lady with short brown hair and hazel eyes.
“The pleasure is mine,” she reciprocated.
I was morbidly curious, dying to know what Ryan looked like. I hid it in my slow gestures, turning my head down and towards him, letting my eyes drift, up, up, really fucking high up. Usually height wasn’t the first thing I noticed or cared about, but when I’m supposed to be lifted overtop his head while he’s figure skating, it’s damn important. The guy was too fucking tall! He had to be a good four inches taller than Adam. If I had to guess, 6’3! Skates also add two more inches, all the higher to fall from. So now I’m picturing myself being held up by one hand six and a half feet in the air while the guy who apparently walks on water skates across the ice. Ya, that’s not going to happen.
Another obstacle involuntarily made my eyes linger, his shoulders. Some crazy person must have shoved boulders under his skin because there was no way those were his actual muscles! I caught myself staring at his deltoids, and trapezius wanting to let my eyes coast back downwards hoping to catch a glimpse of his pectorals, and oh my God how I would love to see his gluteus maximus. I inhaled slowly forcing my eyes back on their journey upwards. I abhorred my own behaviour, knowing I was treating him like the piece of meat he was, grilled to perfection, and smoking hot.
My eyes beheld his, frozen in locked position, the most intense dreamy brown eyes I’d ever seen, melted dark chocolate. They matched his wispy longish brown hair perfectly. This is the guy whom I hate? Now I had to rethink it!
Adam, Adam I chanted in my head. I had to remember Adam. Ryan’s looks alone were the last thing I expected, but I was sure he had to be cocky, selfish, arrogant or something. Talking myself down wasn’t working.
I amazed myself at how shallow I was being. I was stunned stupid at the sight of him. I shook it off and held out my hand to greet him, “Hi I’m Dalia, nice to meet you.” He scooped my hand gently into his never for a second breaking eye contact with me. Unmistakeable chemistry was
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