Chapter 7
(tags: same as for Ch 1-4)
Zach had written — what? — five different versions of a text message to ask Lydia out before he trashed each text, thinking he could do better.
Should
do better.
"Hey Lydia. Wanna hang Saturday night?" was not even a thought that made it into his head. Hook-up culture was not even in his head. Friends with benefits was not even in his head.
Not a single damned thing that might convey that Zach was nonchalant about asking Lydia out made it into his head. He wanted to go out with her so badly that he was nervous and anxious about making the right impression with her — even though she already told him she was going to say yes!
"Fuck it," he muttered, tossing his cell phone on his bed next to him as he lay propped up against the headboard.
I should call her to ask her out
, he finally decided.
I'm different —
she's
different — and all the stuff that's happened between us to this point makes this
way
different from any kind of first date that's going to happen as a result of her saying yes to a text about getting together sometime soon.
He knew it was the right decision. Call her. Ask her out. Be a gentleman, have some class. Don't take for granted that Lydia Tanner is like other women. She's special, so stand up and treat her special!
He picked up the phone and swiped to Lydia's number. But he paused before tapping to call.
What's the best first date I can plan for us?
he thought.
If I'm going to talk to her, I need to ask her if she'd like to do what I've planned for a date.
Zach laid the phone down to think this through . . .
***
. . . and when he wiped away the cum he'd spurted onto his chest after masturbating to thoughts of being with Lydia, he dropped the towel onto the pile of workout clothes and underwear he was going to wash later that day and pulled on some clean sweat pants, grabbed his phone, and walked to his desk and laptop.
Let's see what's happening in the city on Saturday night
. He clicked on his favorite search engine, and began scrolling to find something special that he hoped Lydia would enjoy.
Hmm . . . a first date that she'll remember forever
, he mused. After trying a search term or two, "romantic restaurants" came to mind, and the search yielded multiple lists compiled by various sources. He'd been to several of the restaurants but decided he liked a new bistro on the east side of the city best: the pictures showed an elegant room tastefully lit, not too big, tables not too close together, warm wood and a fireplace. "Soft, smooth jazz" was listed as part of the ambiance. And the reviews were excellent.
Done
, he thought to himself, and he picked up his phone to call, ensuring he could get a reservation.
What time?
he asked himself before tapping in the restaurant's number.
Do I need to plan dinner around some other activity?
He lowered his phone.
Of course! What's going to go with dinner? And is dinner before or after?
It had been years since Zach had given so much thought to planning a date.
A comedy club with dinner after?
he wondered, but he quickly discarded the idea.
No guarantee the comics would be good, and their material might be too over-the-top for us to enjoy together before we know more about each other,
he thought.
The opera?
The scene from the movie "Pretty Woman" flashed in his mind. It was an intriguing idea, but he quickly discarded it.
Not for a first date — it would probably come across as too showy, too much like I'm trying to impress her.
But Zach
did
want to impress Lydia. He just wanted to do it in the right way.
This has to be a perfect date, one that will make Lydia certain that being with me outside of being my trainer is something she wants more of
, he thought, idly scratching his chin with the edge of his phone as he leaned back in the chair at his desk.
A play? A concert?
It took half an hour before Zach had assembled a date agenda he thought was best: First stop would be one of his favorite spots for winding down after work — they had an inventive array of appetizers and munchies along with a nice beer and wine selection. Then he and Lydia would go to a play at the local university where the Theatre Arts Department was performing a feel-good musical.
Then
they'd go to the restaurant for a late dinner.
Working out all the timings, Zach figured he needed to make the dinner reservation for 9:45 PM, and he called the restaurant to lock it in. Next was the online purchase of the tickets to the musical. Then he called Maxine's, his spot for an always-dependable wind-down after work. One of the hostesses answered, and he asked to speak with Maxine. Letting him know it might take a minute because she was in the kitchen, the hostess forwarded his call, putting him on hold.
"Well, Zach Brenner," Maxine's unique, silky voice came through the phone after a minute or so, "what can I do for one of our favorite customers?"
"Hi, Max," Zach replied, smiling at the mental picture of Maxine, her perfectly applied make-up a trademark on her pretty ebony face. She would, of course, be moving a bit slowly through the kitchen on her arthritic knee, phone to her ear, no doubt leaning in over something to pass judgment on the state of its preparation before sending it out to the dining room and bar. "Just making sure you and your fabulous establishment are going to be the normal top-notch experience for something special I have going on Saturday night."
Max paused before moving to check on the preparation of a charcuterie board at the hands of one of the chefs. "Mr. Brenner," she said, one hand on her hip, "don't be coy with me. What you really mean is 'some
ONE
special' — isn't that right?"
Zach laughed. "Max, you know me too well."
"Hmph," she responded. "Guy like you in here as often as you come in —
alone
— over all the time I've known you?" She tapped the chef working on the charcuterie board and gave her a thumbs-up. "Maybe twice you've brought in a young lady. Are you ashamed of my food?"
"You know that's not it," Zach answered, continuing the good-natured banter.
Max was a treasure.
"If you are calling me up just to check on things for Saturday night, that in itself is special because you know we
always
are top-notch around here." Pausing for a moment, Max then said, "So this must be somebody that's got your interest pretty powerfully, huh?"
Zach's answer was immediate. "Oh, she's got my interest, all right."
"I see," Max replied thoughtfully. "Then I will personally be the one bringing out the food to your table, Mr. Brenner. I have to meet this woman."
"Thanks, Max. I know you'll make a great impression on her."
"Hmm. Anxious about making a good impression, are we?" Max put the phone against her chest to call across the kitchen about something happening with the cheese carving. "Sorry," she said, phone back to her ear, "gotta make sure everything is the way it's supposed to be."
"Which is exactly the reason I want to bring Lydia to Maxine's as the start to our date on Saturday," Zach said. He meant every word, and Max heard it in his voice.
"Oh, my," she said, drawing out the syllables, "Miss Lydia must be something special, huh, Zach?"
"If you only knew," Zach laughed. "And you'll meet her Saturday night."
***
It had been two days and, what — three self-induced orgasms (no, make that four) — since their last workout session, and Lydia was still on a Zach high from that last, incredible work-out at his townhome. Witnessing his cock rise to full erection and hardness in front of her and then,
oh my god!
, touching it and tasting his delicious pre-cum . . .
Shit!
thought Lydia,
that was unbelievably erotic. It got me so wet!
she thought, still incredulous at what she'd done.
The conversation on his workout bench might have been more arousing:
Zach said he wants to go out with me on a date, get to know me as a woman who's more than just his trainer. He wants to be with me!
Lydia had given up trying to figure out what Zach was doing to her other than knowing it was driving her mad with lust, excitement, anticipation, and the nervousness of first-date butterflies mixed with a powerful, pulsing need to have sex with him. Accepting it for what it was meant she could at least think about their last workout session, and everything that transpired, with a freedom she hadn't yet allowed herself. Zach's admission to her about what he wanted —
To go out with me, to get to know me!