Win A Date With Chris Evans

Peak

Chris and Jaime left the party together, the sun was starting to rise over the LA skyline. The streets were silent around this part of the city. The limousine ride was quiet, both utterly exhausted. Jaime looks at her watch, 03:46 am, she's been awake for 22 hours. Her voice is rasped with the exhilaration of the day/night and whenever she does find the energy to speak its hoarse and almost silent.

Chris watches as she stares out of the window her eyes flickering as they focus on the passing scenery. What is it about this girl...?

By now they are both sober, not 'able to drive' sober. But aware of their actions. No longer stumbling around hyperactive. It's as though they have now built up a strong immunity to alcohol. Kind of like Steve Rogers.

"You didn't have to walk me to the hotel door Chris," Jaime stands leaning against the glass walls of the grand building, ready to return to her boring Iowa life.

Chris leans down brushing his lips against her ear, "I wanted to." He whispers gently. Jaime's skin electrifies with goosebumps, and she is unable to control her body from shaking, hoping she can disguise her obvious tremble of nerves as being cold.

Chris takes off his suit jacket and drapes it around her, rubbing her arms to warm her. Hoping that she oblivious to how apprehensive he is, not ready to leave her just yet.

Ask him Jaime...what have you got to lose? If he says no that's okay...you are never going to see him again.

"I...uh wondered..." She stutters aware that Chris's hands still rest on her arms his grasp gentle but firm. Ask nicely, don't be rude. Don't be crass. Just be yourself. NO! Don't be yourself, just be calm. "fuck..." she clamps her hand over her mouth not meaning to cuss. Her nerves getting the better of her. She doesn't do this; she never instigates anything further. "Would you like to come up for a nightcap...?" she laughs a little, Night Cap.

"Think it would be more 'hair of the dog' but sure. I'd love to." Chris blushes and his eyes cloud with delight, his smile widens spreading over his entire face. He hasn't had this much fun in a long long time. Be cool Chris...she likes you too or she wouldn't have invited you up.

***

"I'm gonna hop in a quick shower, make yourself at home." Jaime disappears into the bathroom, OH FUCK! What if he thought that was an invitation...what if he comes in here and see's you trying to get out of this shapewear? OH GREAT! That's all he needs to witness, you shimmying out of this god awful piece of equipment, dancing around the place like a whale stuck inside a condom.

Thankfully and not surprisingly Chris doesn't join her, he is too much of a gentleman for that. Although the overly confident part of her is disappointed that he didn't, it is soon slammed down by her crippling anxiety. He would not appreciate her wobbly bits, and by wobbly bits I mean the 4 fucking extra tyres that surround my stomach and back. Not to mention the bingo wings, that he's probably already noticed, add that to abundance of double chins and you are a shoo-in for Jabba The Huts fucking stunt double.

Chris watches as Jaime awkwardly backs herself into the bathroom, doing his best to stifle a laugh at her lovableness and as the door closes and he wonders, fuck... was that an invitation? Did she want to me follow her? Surely not. Shower sex is intimate, that's something you do when you are comfortable with someone, that's not where you have your first time with...a stranger. Wait am I a stranger? Is she a stranger? Fuck. Don't overthink it, Chris.

Jaime has the quickest shower known to man just in case Chris does take it as an invitation. If there is even the remote possibility that she is going to have sex with Chris Evans she's going to do it in darkness, the mans fucked models for fucks sake.