I’ve been working on this post for the past 2 days.

I had to go to the gym today, I ate so much last night.

After a stressful day at the store, one which I spent in my office instant messaging Scott, I came home to Wednesday. She spent the day sleeping on my bed again, so I knew I wouldn’t be bringing Scott back to my place. There is dog hair everywhere! *shudders*

After a speedy shower, I straightened my short, brown hair and dressed to drool. Looking back now, wearing fitted jeans and a tailored button-up shirt was both a good and a bad thing. I padded barefoot down the hall, carrying my cellphone and a bottle of red wine. (barefoot? you gasp- yes… I go everywhere possible barefooted. It’s the disposition of being raised ten minutes from any other civilization.)

I knocked on his door. When he opened it, I quite possibly might have swayed forward. The man looked great in an expensive suit tailored to his large frame perfectly. He had on that adorable apron again; this time I actually looked at it. It was tan with various old food stains on it and a few new ones.

“What’s for dinner?” I asked as he let me in. I had been smelling something delicious all afternoon.

“Baked Potato Soup.”

I looked at him. “Marry me.”

We laughed and he kissed me. “Not yet.”

My brain and my hormones screamed like teenage girls at a Backstreet Boys concert (ok, Fallout Boy if you are younger than 21). “How was your day?”

He sighed. “It was a bitch, trying to fit everything in before I leave for the holiday. What are your plans for Thanksgiving?”

It was my turn to sigh. “I’m leaving Thursday morning and driving down to my parents’ house in Valdosta. Get there just in time for dinner, conversation, and bedtime.”

I opened the wine as he spooned out the soup and garnished it with shredded cheese, bacon, and chooped green onion. “Are you really a chef disguised as a magazine editor?”

He laughed. “No, allrecipes.com is on my favorites list.”

I was still impressed. So impressed that I ate 2 bowls of the stuff. It was a little embarassing, but 1: I hadn’t eat anything but granola bars and coffee all day and 2: it was damn good.

After dinner, we talked as we did the dishes and drank more wine. (he has a wine fridge people!) Somehow, we looked at each other for a moment and ended up kissing on the kitchen floor.

Don’t worry, I’m not THAT easy folks. I stood up and pushed the wine bottle away. We made out like a bunch of teenagers on the couch instead. That was moving a long nicely when Halley called, sobbing into the phone. After I told Scott what was going on, he went into the kitchen, coming out carrying 2 brown paper bags. “Liquor, chocolate ice cream, and leftover cookie dough.”

I hugged him, which turned into another kissing fest. “You might turn out to be a keeper, buddy,” I said before running back to my apartment to put on my shoes and jacket.

Halley’s post covered what happened at her place, so I won’t go over it again. Check back soon for my Thanksgiving Day disasters.

-Lina (the boonies girl)