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I wait for Sami's text message like a high school kid. s**t, I've never waited for a response even when I was in high school. Not even for her.
Why?
Because back then, I knew she'd eventually respond.
She always did.
Always.
Why the f**k am I nervous about it now?
Did I think she'd really let me down?
I didn't want to think she would.
And then it happens. The simple chime and there it is on my screen.
Text message from Sami:
“Talk? Sounds ominous. Food, though, sounds great. Your place is good. Not pizza. Grill?"
I don't want her to think ominous.
“Not ominous. See you at six."
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At ten minutes before six, I have my apartment all set.
I stopped at the store on my way home from work.
The steaks are marinating and ready to pop on the grill, charcoal is warmi
