As long as you like

4

Dean: So what are your plans for tonight?

Dean and I had been texting casually all day. The normal stuff. "I had fun last night." "It's beautiful outside today." Small talk. But, when he sent that message asking for my plans, something in my stomach flipped. I was hesitant to text back that I had no plans, even though it was the truth. But, I was more curious to see where this goes, even if it doesn't go far.

Arabella: I was just going to sit around my apartment, eat potato chips and watch Friends. You?

Dean: On the clock til 6. Then I was thinking of grabbing some dinner.

Arabella: Sounds like a night of excitement for you.

Dean: Well, if I'm being honest, I'd be more excited if you came with me. Pick you up around 6:30?

My stomach flipped again. He wants to see me? I wanted to see him but last night he left me so confused. After some deliberation I decided I was too intrigued by him to say no.

Arabella: Sounds great, I'll see you then 

I looked at the time on my phone. 4:45 p.m. I hopped in the shower immediately. I shaved everything as a precaution. After I was done in the shower, I dried my hair and did some skin care. Standing in front of my closet, I stared for a moment. I didn't want to look too over dressed, but I also didn't want to look homely. I settled on some black bell bottoms that had fashionably placed ripped in the knees and a black bell sleeve top with silver lace.

I looked in my full length mirror at my outfit. With some silver jewelry and some black chucks, it was both casual and a bit too much. Exactly how I liked to look. I looked at the time on my phone again. 5:30 pm. I noticed Dean texted asking for my address. I texted him the address for the apartment complex and told him I'd meet him out front. I figured I shouldn't give my direct address to someone I'd just met. I decided I had enough time to put on some makeup.

Just ask I finished swiping on my mascara, my phone lit up.

Dean: I'm outside!

I took a deep breath and one last glance in the mirror. Grabbing my bag and keys, I headed out the door. I walked around my apartment building and saw Dean waiting in his car by the leasing office. He noticed me approaching and got out of his seat. As I neared, he opened the car door for me.

"You look beautiful." He greeted me, grinning. He closed the passenger door for me and hopped back into the drivers seat. "Thank you for joining me. This place has some of the best pasta and I was craving it all day." Dean, chuckled as he swung his arm behind the passenger seat, looking behind him to back out of the parking space. I got a whiff of his cologne. The scent tingled my nostrils. Sandalwood and musk mixed magically with a scent I've never smelled before.

"Thank you for inviting me. Other than last night, I haven't been out in forever." I responded sheepishly. "So, what do you do for work?"

"I'm a painter. Houses."  Dean clarified. "I've been doing it for about 7 years now." I looked at his hands and clothes for drops of paint. When I didn't find any, I also took into account that he didn't smell like paint.

"I thought you just got off of work." I said quizzically. "Look at your hands, clean as a whistle. And no paint splats on your clothes." He looked at me with an arched brow and a shy grin started to spread on his lips.

"Well, my momma used to tell me that you clean up and put on a clean shirt when you take a lady out for a meal in public. You don't wanna be seen with a smelly man covered in paint, do you?" I took another glance at him. He had on a dark grey long sleeve T-shirt and black jeans on. He looked really good in dark colors. "What do you do for work?" He asked me.

"I work in customer service for an insurance company. I work from home, which is nice. Most of the time, the job is pretty easy." I chuckled. "But every once in a while, I get that one person who just wants to scream."

"And how do you handle people screaming at you?" Dean asked. I had to think about it for a moment. I usually don't lose my temper easily. Sure, it's very frustrating when someone screams so much you can't understand what they're saying. Most of the time, I want to tell them to fuck off and hang up.

I held my hand up to my ear, mocking a phone. "I understand how frustrating this is ma'am." I stated in my best customer service voice. "I would really love to help resolve any issues or misunderstandings, but for that to happen, the situation needs to deescalate." Dean let out a small laugh. "Oh, no. Ma'am. There's no need to bring my mother into this." I pretended to argue with my imaginary customer.

Dean turned into the parking lot for the restaurant. He turned off the car and raced out of his seat to open my door for me. Taking my hand and helping me out of the car, he closed the door and lead me into the restaurant. We were quickly seated and Dean ordered us some wine. After we placed our order, Dean and I sat across from each other for a long moment. I felt my favor turn red, so I turned my attention to the wine, taking a sip.

"You're a different type of girl, Arabella." Dean said, suddenly. I furrowed my brow at him.

"Not the kind you'd want to be friends with though." I challenged. I took another sip of wine and met his shocked gaze. "That's what you said last night. When I said our friendship would be diverse."

"Oh, but I never said I didn't want to be friends with you, Little girl." He flashed me a smile. "I said I didn't think we could be friends." He gently took my hand in his. "That doesn't mean anything bad. Just means that we'll have to move past being friends." His smile turned into...something else. Something I wanted to know more about.

"Move past being friends into being what?" I asked cautiously. He opened his mouth to say something, but the waiter brought our food out and set it in front of us. After we said our thank you's and began eating, the conversation dulled down. He told me more about his job painting houses and how music was his real passion.

"And you, Little girl, you can sing! You blew me and everyone in that bar away last night. All that voice in that...lovely, little body." My entire body flared in tingles when he said that.

"Thank you." I simply replied. After 3 glasses of wine and more pasta than I could ever wish for, Dean paid the bill and we headed back to his car. I decided to reach for the handle of the door myself this time.

"I don't think so!" Dean said, excitedly. He reached around me from behind and placed his hand over mine on the door handle. "I'll handle that, you can let go." He said softly into my ear. I slid my hand out from under his and stepped to the side. He opened the door and I slid into the seat. He got in too and we sat in the car, silent for a moment.