me, was complicated. Except for stretches of time when I was abroad, I kept to a tight routine. Cruising bars looking for men wasn’t part of that routine.
Another jitter, this time tougher to ignore. Chatting online was one thing. Letting him see me was riskier.
Yes. But I haven’t showered yet this morning.
I smiled. I don’t scare easily.
Sounds good.
I didn’t rush to the bathroom to check myself in the mirror, but I may have moved a little quicker than normal. My dark hair was shorter than I would have preferred, but it never got in my face and was easy to manage and conceal. I finger combed it, deemed it fine, and wiped a toast crumb from the corner of my mouth. I was wearing what I’d slept in, an old tee and some baggy sweat pants. Since I’d already told him I hadn’t showered, changing into nice clothes and putting on make-up would be disingenuous.
Besides, if a guy couldn’t accept the way a woman looked when she woke up, he wasn’t worth waking up next to.
Not that I was planning any sleepovers.
Sex, on the other hand… it had been too long.
I wandered back to my computer, sat down, and noted my pulse was a tiny bit faster than normal. My webcam was built into the monitor. I switched on the application, and a few seconds later Victor IMed me the address. I typed in the URL, and then there he was, filling my computer screen, smiling boyishly.
He was actually cuter than his jpg. Blond hair. Strong chin, covered in stubble. Broad shoulders. Around my age, early thirties, and his blue eyes were several shades lighter than mine.
He said something, which I lip-read to be,
I unmuted the picture and adjusted the volume.
“Yes, I am.” I smiled. “Is that going to be a problem?”
Victor stood up, revealing the White Sox logo on his jersey. Behind him I could make out a sofa, but the room details were blurry beyond that. With the sound level up, I heard his cat, a calico named Mozart, meow in the background.
“I’m a season ticket holder.” His voice was deep, rich, pure Chicago south-side. He sat down, grinning. “But I’m willing to work through this if you are.”
I shook my head, feigning disapproval. “I dunno. Season tickets? I’m not sure I could get over something like that.”
“Are you asking me to give up the Sox when we haven’t even had a first date yet?”
“If I did ask, what would you say?”
He rubbed his chin. “On one hand, I don’t want you to think I’m a pushover. On the other hand, if this is what you look like before a shower, giving up the Sox doesn’t seem like that big a sacrifice.”
I granted him a smile for that one. “You should see me juggle.”
We stared at each other for a few seconds.
“This is the first time I’ve ever used a webcam for something other than business.” He leaned forward, like we were talking over a coffee table. “It’s weird. Intimate, but distant at the same time.”
“I agree.” I took a breath and a plunge. “Dinner would be better, I think.”
“Are you free tonight?”
I pretended to consider it. “Yes.”
“I could pick you up. Have we reached a level of trust where you’re willing to tell me where you live?”
“Let’s meet someplace.” Only one person in the world actually knew where I lived, and I wanted to keep it that way.
“You like German food, right?”
I nodded, remembering I’d mentioned that during our very first text chat.
“How about Mirabel’s on Addison?” he said. “Six o’clock?”
“Looking forward to it.”
“Me, too. But now it’s almost nine, and I’m on call. Gotta get ready for work.”
“Off to save some lives?”
“I’m hoping for a slow day. Maybe I’ll get lucky and no one in Chi-town will dial 911 during my shift. But if I do have to heroically spring into action,” he winked at me, “I’ll be ready.”
“See you later, Victor.”
“See you, Carmen.”
