18

—I'm so excited you finally let me know about your dates —Tammy sings excitedly.

If only she knew this is actually the first date I'll have in twenty six years, and that's the only reason why she didn't know of the previous ones -also the fact that I got to learn we were friends, and not only coworkers, the moment Soo invited me to the cabin in Seneca.

—I also wanted to make up for what happened the other day —I turn to her while the shop assistant starts packing our things.

—Y/n, it's fine —she rubs my arm—. We all have bad days.

Before I'm able to apologize, the blonde girl that's dealing with our clothes interrupts me to hand us the two bags.

—I know, but still... —I continue, walking with her to the exit.

—How long have we been working together? —she asks all of a sudden— Two years? Maybe? —I nod unsure— You've never come late, you've always had my back when I was having an off day, and every single time I was off, you carried all the work. It's your first time having a bad day, it's okay —she reassures—. Remember when I broke up with my ex and you were taking the orders, serving the drinks and also comforting me? Yeah, what I did the other day was nothing.

She wraps her arm around my shoulders and holds me close, rubbing my upper arm before letting go of me again.

—That's what friends are for anyway —she brings me a bright smile—. But don't get too used to doing that, huh? If you're off, I'll be the one who will have to be in charge of the bar and deal with drunk assholes, and I'm not mentally ready for such a thing.

I giggle and nod. Talking about it did really help a lot, at least it made me feel better about the way I treated her.

—On a more serious note, how did you meet this guy?

Honest answer would be that Jungkook came up with the idea of me creating a Tinder account, so I could approach men in an environment where I could feel more comfortable -since reaching to them in person, out of nowhere, I started the panic mode I have as a self defense. And this guy I'm going on a date with was one of the few that I matched with, and the only one that was able to keep a conversation going.

His physique wasn't as mind-blowing as Jungkook's, which was a good sign. At least I don't think I'll be intimidated in that sense.

—We met through Tinder —I shrug—. There isn't much to it.

—I'm so excited for you —she claps fast—. If I'm honest, I'm not a big fan of Tinder if you're looking for something long-term. I don't know. This boy could be an exception...

—I'm not looking for something long-term —I finish her rambling.

Given this was Jungkook's idea, and part of the same deal where I'm not allowed to have more than one date with the same guy, the possible fact that my date isn't looking for something long-term isn't an issue.

And just like that, the rest of the morning goes by. Tammy and I hang out until it's lunchtime, and we end up grabbing something to eat together. I can't believe it took me so long to get to know her better and hang out with her out of work (with the exception of the few times we've all met as a group).

While I'm drawing, sitting on the floor, and finding support on the coffee table, my phone shakes on the couch. At this point, I do wonder why I have a couch at all. I spend more time sitting on the ground than lying on my sofa.

Frustrated by the way the spider in my sketchbook looks, I throw the pencil over the table and turn my body to get my phone, just to find a chat notification from Tinder.

"I can't wait for tomorrow" shows up when I drag down the notification, along with his profile pic, where he's posing with his golden retriever. Is it too bad his dog got my attention more than him? I start to think I only slid right because of that beautiful fluff.

"Neither can I" I answer, but it's not true. I could wait for it. I could wait for it for weeks even. Actually, I could go fine without it happening. But then I remember this is all part of me leaving my comfort zone -this time for real-, and just get more comfortable interacting with other men. Which should I be used to by now? Considering Jungkook is a man, and I've spent more time with him in the last few weeks than anyone else I've ever known in my life -except for Tammy, but she doesn't really count because I've only spent so much time with her because of work.

Am I ready for this though? Will I enjoy it? Or am I only setting myself for a bad time?

And this is when I'm sure I need to take some fresh air and ease my mind. There has been just too much going on. It's totally normal I'm feeling the way I do right now.

I put the bomber on and decide to take a short walk. I don't care where I end up going, honestly.

Twenty minutes later, after being able to forget about everything going on in my life, I realize life might not want to see me at ease. Never. The moment I lift my gaze from my own feet stepping on the pavement, I see him getting off his motorbike once it's placed next to my entrance door.

—I see what you meant with not wanting to let girls know where you live so they don't bother you —I joke as I start getting closer to him—. Jungkook, you spend more time here than in your own house.

But the joke's over the second I pull from his hood, taking it off. A bright pink hair welcomes me, and not only it shocks me, but also makes me hope it's a wig.

—What the fuck did you do to your hair?

He covers his head under the hood fast before he turns to me with an annoyed look. His eyebrows are slightly frowned, while his nose scrunches every few seconds. And it's all laughs and jokes until I see his lip ring is missing and his lip is split with blood in the middle.

—What the...

—Will you keep screaming "what the fuck" or can we go up to your house?

I'd roll my eyes and tell him to fuck off, but I'm more concerned than pissed off. And that's exactly why we both go up to my place without saying a word, at least it's like that until we cross the door.

The second I switch the lights on, and he finally takes his hood off, I'm almost blinded by how bright his hair looks right now.

—You look like a furby —I'm unable to keep it to myself.

He fakes a smile, but the second the light hits his face directly, I can see clearer some bruises on his right cheek, too close to his eye.

—What happened to your face?

—This is nothing —he points to his face—. I thought I'd be able to knock one dude out at the first round during my boxing practice, but he was tough as fuck. I knocked him out, but he made sure to slit my face open before —he finally turns to me—. So, the reason why I'm here...

—It'd be great to know.

—Do you have hair dye?

I'm shocked by his sudden question, and for one short second I think he could be joking. But the way he's looking at me with wide open eyes, waiting for my answer tells me he is far from joking.

—Do you think this is a fucking salon?

But he doesn't reply back, he simply pouts his lips slightly and keeps looking at me, hoping for an answer.

—I think I might have something —I scratch my nape—. But you better tell me how you came up with the idea of doing —I look at his hair— that.

Looking through all the cabins in my bathroom -which aren't many-, I finally find one bottle of purple hair color I bought months ago, when I still thought it'd be a good idea to get some purple highlights like some some people did on Instagram, but soon after buying it I regretted it.

I pop my head out the door, finding Jungkook looking around. The second I call him, he rushes to get to where I am with a hopeful look in his eyes.

—It's a dark purple —I warn him—. It's closer to black than whatever you tried to do on your head.

—It was going to be a pink... reddish... —he starts explaining—. You don't have a different color?

—Sure. I have green, orange, blond... All colors just for you. Which one do you want?

—Sure that purple color will work? —he asks, the second he's aware of my sarcasm and how pissed off I'm starting to get.

—It's either this or you better rock the Peppa Pig look the best way you can.

I set everything to work on his hair. Huh, funny. Because I could easily give him the bottle and let him work on it by himself. But I insist on him staying and letting me do the work, and it's not like he was thinking of leaving either. The way he hides a squared smile the second I start setting the whole place for him is telling.

—Have I ever told you how good your fingers feel on my hair? —he asks with a soft voice, still with his eyes closed— Ouch —his voice cracks the second I pull from one of his locks.

—Why did you tint it? —I ask, looking at him through the mirror.

And god, even with his face totally bruised, he looks too fucking good to be real. His eyes open suddenly and meet mine, instantly causing a smile to form on his face.

—I wanted to try something new —as soon as he pouts his lips, I know he'll start complaining—. The box said it was a dark red, but it wasn't true. I washed my hair four times. Four —he emphasizes on the number—. And it just kept getting worse.

—Why didn't you go to a store and buy a hair dye?

He closes his mouth, and his eyes shake to every single reflection in the mirror except on mine. With both of my covered hands resting on his shoulders over the towel, I get his attention back to me.

—I was bored at home. It was late —I nod while he keeps explaining himself—. And I thought it'd go away after washing it.

—There's a 7Eleven right at the corner of where you live, Jungkook. You could've bought a bottle of black dye —I lower my body, so my lips almost touch his earlobe—. Was this an excuse to see me?

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head and throwing his hands up in the air while trying to deny what I've just said. And it'd have worked if he had been able to answer.

—Calm down, big boy. I was just kidding.

While I'm away to get my phone -after managing to take one of the two gloves off-, I hear him saying "It's not right at the corner, but three blocks away". It's still closer than my house, but whatever he says.

I approach him sneakily, raising my hand with the camera of my phone just to catch him off guard the second I scream "Say cheese".

—You have my drunk video, and I have a pic of you looking cute while getting your hair done. We're okay now.

But he doesn't really mind it. He just shrugs it off, or at least pretends he doesn't care about me having that picture of him.

And I get to know he was just pretending when the moment of rinsing his hair comes, and he keeps pinching my sides. I even threaten to smack his face with the shower head, but that only seems to encourage him to keep pinching my sides until he finds a ticklish spot that makes me lose my balance, with me falling on his lap and the shower head actually smacking his head in consequence.

—Oh my god, I'm sorry.

—You did that on purpose —a whimper comes out of his mouth, as he raises his hand to rub the spot I hit.

I tilt my head and twirl my tongue, before I try to get up and finish my work, but he holds my hips and keeps me right where I was. There's no point on arguing with him, because he'll be a pain in the ass until he gets his way.

For the first time since I met him, he makes me feel genuinely shy. Not when he had me cumming on his lap or when I first got naked in front of him. But now. Now that he's eyes are fixed on me while I rinse his hair carefully, taking his locks in between my fingers while his gaze seems to be following the tiniest move my pupils do.

But all that tension, all that it could've happened, it's ruined by a simple question:

—How are you feeling about tomorrow?

And that question brings me back to reality.

—Fine —I close the tap—. Nervous.

—It's your first date. It's normal —Jungkook taps my thigh, trying to comfort me—. Although if you still feel like you aren't ready, you are on time to cancel it. Even if the dude gets mad, it's not like you are going to see him again.

—I want to try it, at least —I move my eyes away from his—. Like you said, I need to get out of my shell. The more I go on dates, the faster I'll get used to them. At least, I hope so —I murmur—. Any advice for tomorrow?

—Just be yourself —he pinches my chin—. Start getting used to it. Remember what I told you about letting him think he has the lead, and let it all flow. Just act as if you were talking to me.

And that thought it's so difficult to make up. Because no one has ever pissed me off the way he does, but no one has ever made me feel so... good at the same time.

I nod, forcing a smile as I start moving away from his lap. He stops me from clearing the sink of everything I used to dye his hair.

—I'll do it.

When I see his reflection, he's wiping his hair with the towel I prepared next to my shower. And to be honest, yes, It's better that he does it. Because I don't think I'm able to think straight when he's so close right now, looking like that. Although he's wearing his usual baggy clothes.

What's wrong with me? And my body? And my brain? And why all of sudden I seem unable to think like a normal human being? If I could, I'd slap myself right now.

—I'll get going —he says, leaving my room—. Thanks for helping me out.

I want to tell him he can spend the night here, but I stop myself when I remember how many times he must've heard that same thing and how many times he must've rejected them. I simply smile and nod, not moving an inch.

—I'll send you a text when I get home.

—Sure —I let my head rest on my palm—. Put ice on your face.

One of his hands wrap around my neck without a previous warning, pulling me back softly so he can kiss my forehead.

—Good luck tomorrow. I'm sure you'll do great —he starts walking to the door—, but don't do too well, cocktease.