I noticed him as soon as I walked in. Six foot three, dark hair, five o'clock shadow plus thirty-six hours. Reading a book alone at a brewery is not the norm, but I won't judge. The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk. Instantly I am intrigued, as this is on my hold list at the library, and I have been waiting for months for my turn.
It is a rare night on my own- Rachel is out with her girlfriend and I don't want to stay in tonight watching another Netflix true crime docuseries. I order a beer, a smoothie sour, and sit a few seats down from him at the long, raw edge high top.
I am hopeless at flirting in person. So, I do my best to look as appealing as possible without being creepy and pull my leather notebook out of my bag to pretend to be an introspective hipster while I sneak glances at him. Eventually I realize this man has no idea I have been ogling him for the last twenty minutes and I decide to get up, walk closer to him and sit back down, uttering this suave pick-up line, "Hey I've had that book on my Goodreads "want to read" shelf for a while, do you like it so far?"
He looks up, not startled enough to jump, but clearly caught unaware.
"Oh! Yeah, it's great. I uh, am not super far into it yet though, but I have a good feeling," he says, peering up at me. A moment, then he straightens a bit and somehow, I feel like he has just processed that I am one, a girl and two, talking directly to him.
"I've heard great things from uh, some influencers and mental health professionals and stuff," I say and instantly wince at how much of a dork I am. "Sorry, I'm a bit of a nerd, I don't mean to be weird."
"No, not at all! I mean, I'm the nerd reading a book at a brewery, after all," he says, with a smile. "I'm actually feeling fairly social tonight, but my friends are all busy, and I didn't want to sit at home watching yet another Netflix true crime documentary, so I figured a book at a brewery was the next best thing."
Swoon. "Oh, funny you say that; it's why I'm here too actually...like, eerily like why I'm here, because I was going to do the same thing, but I also didn't want to be home alone...so...yeah." Goddamn it, Haley, why do you have to suck so hard at talking to cute boys IRL when online you can chat them up easily for hours via text?? I'm sheepishly looking away now because dude is hot and literate and damn if that isn't enough to soak my panties.
He gestures to the chair across the table. "Well then, why don't we be "not alone" together? I'm David," and we do that dance of "can we shake hands in a pandemic" and decide not to, but just nod instead.
"I'm Haley," I say, with a small grin. Yessss, I think to myself, perhaps meeting cute boys out in the wild isn't impossible.
...
It turns out David and I live in the same neighborhood, which is how he ended up here tonight. He moved from Durango to Denver a few months ago, and this summer he has been exploring all the city has to offer. As a resident of the neighborhood for the last decade, I tell him all about my favorite breweries, restaurants, and things to see.
"So, tell me what you do for work," I say, as I take another sip of my now-warm beer.
"I'm a software developer for a huge company," he says, taking a sip of his stout. "It's good money, but not my whole personality."
Damn, I think. Is this guy my fantasy? A millennial with work-life balance? Hell yes.
"Well, I completely understand that" I say, finishing my beer. "I try hard myself to ensure work isn't all of who I am. I have other interests and hobbies too that I enjoy far more than my career."
"Oh really?" he says. "Like what?"
"Well," I say, cocking my head to the side. "Baking. Urban cycling. Reading, of course." A beat. I decided to just go for it. "I also uh, am pretty kinky, which most people don't really expect."
His eyes widen. "You are? I am too, and I know nothing about the kink scene here since I moved. Enlighten me."
I sense an intensity shift from him, imperceptibly but still palpable. Hmm, he might be even more intriguing than I expected. Excellent.
"Well," I say, pulling back a little and smirking a lot, "I don't honestly know much about the scene locally, but I am curious about what you're interested in."
"Oh, are you now?" he says. "Well, now you have my full attention. And you are going to have to work for a bit to get that answer," he continues, smirking back at me.
Fuck, I think to myself, as I hurriedly chug the last sip of my beer. "So..."
...
We each get another beer. Then another. And before I know it, it is nine o'clock on a Tuesday and I am tipsier than I planned for. And more than a little bit turned on.
"So, uh," I say, stumbling a little as I stand at the bar with David to close my tab. "I hope you got what you came here for," Ugh, what a dumbass thing to say.
"Haha, yeah, I'd say a little more than I came here for," he replies, laughing. "Do you need me to walk you home, or...?"
"No, no," I say, recovering. "I'm good. But I did want to ask you something." Here goes nothing. "When will I see you again?"
"When are you free? I know, I know. You're poly. You have lots of partners and a completely full Google calendar. But I live just around the corner, I don't know anyone here yet, and I have endless social flexibility in my schedule," he says, and I drunkenly believe him.
"Well," I say, as we walk out into the warm summer night together, "Maybe next Tuesday?"
"It's a date then. Give me your number and we will figure out the details," he says, effortlessly.
Fuck, a guy asked for my number. This does not happen. Ever. Who am I today?? "Yeah, ok, sure."
"Well then, Haley. I'm buzzed, you're buzzed, and it seems like we both had a fun night," he says, looking up from his phone. Then, just under his breath so I can only barely make it out, "And I have been wanting to kiss you for the last hour and a half, so bad. May I?"
Swoon. Again. Full Body Yes.
"Yes, you may," and with that he leans down and presses his lips against mine. They are SO SOFT. I melt into a puddle, instantly, as sparks fly in my brain and shoot down my body to my toes.
He pulls away. "Bye, Haley. See you Tuesday!" and with that, he walks with long legged strides into the night.
...
Wednesday morning. I am still thinking a lot about last night. What are the chances I run into a kinky bookworm at my favorite brewery haunt? It takes everything in my power not to text David the moment I wake up, but within half an hour he has beaten me to the punch. Fortunately, I am working remotely today, because "working" is a loose term- we cannot stop texting. About everything from work drama to personal goals, and of course...flirting incessantly.
We have agreed to resist the urge to send nudes- not only do I have a good mental picture of what he would look like without a shirt after staring at him while intoxicated for three hours, but the anticipation is EVERYTHING for me. I crave it.
The rest of the week goes at a snail's pace, and I find myself fighting to do anything productive while I'm glued to my phone, awaiting the next message from David. By Monday we are practically climbing the walls, sexting at least once a day and have agreed to meet at a nice restaurant downtown for dinner.
It turns out that David is a kinky 50/50 switch, with a lot of curiosity. With my own dating experience, I have gotten so tired of male subs asking me the same thing every time- to give them rules, humiliate them, and deny them orgasms, all of which does nothing arousing for me, so to hear that someone does not want to do that either, in addition to performing the same way as a dominant that I do? Yeah, incredible. I have found a rare gem it would seem, and we spend hours fantasizing, discussing limits, and establishing boundaries over text.
...
It's finally Tuesday. David clearly took mental notes on what I said that I find sexy on a man, because he arrives at the restaurant wearing a purple button-down with the sleeves rolled up, a perfectly fitting pair of gray slacks, and brown wingtips. Of course, being the slut I am, my eyes go immediately to the tasteful bulge below his belt.
"Haley, you look absolutely incredible," he says, undressing me with his gaze as I walk up to him outside the restaurant. I wore my favorite red dress. It is a knockout; I get so much attention and honestly, it's thrifted, so I am even more smug while wearing it than just the fact that it fits my curves perfectly.
"I must say the same, David. Wow. You clean up so well," I say with a coy smirk.