My Girlfriend Bites (Young Adult Paranormal Werewolf Romance)

Chapter 12

Aiden

My stomach does cartwheels as I shower. The cool water attacks my skin, my face, my chest, my legs. And I scrub everything that's attached. My good hygiene efforts do nothing to calm the nerves dancing inside. I don't know why I'm this nervous. I hung out with Bree at the mall and that wasn't weird or awkward. We felt comfortable together. But this is an official date. An official statement that we're heading to a new level.

This'll be my first date with a girl. I know. I suck. I'm still trying to figure out how this works.

Will Bree let me kiss her? Does the girl ask first? Does she give you a sign that says, "Hey, dude, please suck my face off?"

Bree will expect me to kiss her, right? But how do I know when? It's not like reading a girl's mind is simple.

Hope she kisses me first. That way, I'll know.

I dry myself off and put on some nice clothes, not all dressed-up crap but still nice, and wait in the living room for Bree.

"Going somewhere important? You're all dressed up for it," Dad says, trying to be funny.

"I have a date," I say.

Dad's eyebrows lift up in surprise as he plops down on the sofa. I can still smell the wheel grease staining his fingers even after he washed them. "What's her name?"

"Bree."

Dad points the remote. The television comes to life.

The dishwasher runs through the next part of its wash cycle.

On television, the second baseman throws a man out at first. The crowd goes wild inside the ballpark.

"When does this adventure start?" Dad asks.

"About an hour. She's picking me up."

Dad shifts his body. "The girl is picking you up?"

I nod.

"Son, men don't let women drive on dates. You're her escort. You must show your woman right off the bat that you can take good care of her."

Real men, Dad...don't vomit on themselves after drinking enough beer to supply Oktoberfest. Wish I had the guts to say that.

"Well, this young man doesn't have a car to pick her up in," I say instead.

Dad absorbs my answer as the next batter strikes out on television. Then he digs into his pocket, bringing out the keys to the truck. "Go to her house, and pick her up early. She'll appreciate the gesture." Dad throws me the keys, and I miss the catch, but they drop in my lap.

Why is Dad all of a sudden being so generous?

"Um...but I need you to come with me, don't I? I only have my learner's permit."

Dad chuckles. "You drive better than I do. Just take it slow, and don't get caught."

The sun sets over the horizon as I guide the Dodge Ram pickup down the same route I remember from my dinner with Bree's parents. I park the truck beside the curbside brick mailbox and hike up Bree's driveway, passing by the black Oldsmobile. The front door of the house opens, and Bree steps outside.

Amazing.

She's wearing a sleeveless cotton dress that stops a few inches short of her bare knees. Bree's stylized hair twists down over her shoulders with curls, like she had it done at a salon. Her dress hugs a lean and firm body that looks like it belongs to an Olympic athlete. Her toned muscles blend wonderfully with her feminine curves. Bree did a wonderful job mimicking Holly's makeup work. Bree's face looks stunning. Just like it did in Holly's mirror. I can't believe this beautiful creature wants to go out with me.