Hailing from San Diego, and a little wild, I give you: Mr. Go Diego, Go!This guy was beyond babyface-young. He opened up his mouth and I almost screamed. It wasn't as bad as him sipping on helium, but my voice was significantly deeper than his. As we learned a couple blogs back, Mr. Deserted certainly had a preference with voices and wanted to make sure mine wasn't too low. I never thought of the other way around. The boy was sweet. We started talking with a simple question....that I gave this ravenous response to. The depth of my words kind of poured out of me and I found myself apologizing in the next text. "Sorry, didn't mean to get so deep LOL." He responded with an equally intriguing response and enjoyed my honesty. The paragraphs of conversation continued and we eventually set up a date. I mean who could say no to tacos? Not I. He was from Cali and taught me this California ways. For example, locals never call it Cali. He made San Diego style tacos with fall-apart barbacoa meat. So delicious and tender. Kind of like him. What? LOL who said that? He made margaritas with some bottled mix I've never heard of but it was pretty phenomenal. Did half the mix, and half tequila. Two drinks in and I was feeling pretty great. He revealed he was part of only-child-syndrome and later let slip that he's about to start flight school back up and wasn't sure how much time he would have. Of course, I made mental notes. We also made a rum cake together and told him I'd just retreive my pan next time I saw him. Risky, but playful, I thought. The cake was luscious even though he was a bit of a baby about. "It's really strong," he whined. I rolled my eyes playfully as I knocked my hip into his. "Hey now!" He said flirtily, as he leaned in to kiss me . He took his time when he kissed me; I liked that. He put a movie on that we never watched and I found myself nestled to him in his bed, on top of the covers. "You make me feel... wanted," a statement I relinquished with no struggle. "Well good," he breathed. He started to drift to sleep, so I gathered my things. "Goodnight" he said, as he kissed me. Hardly walking me to the door, I walked 5 blocks to the visitors section of the well-lit parking lot. The song that played on my ride home could not have been more perfect. U2's "still haven't found what I'm looking for" poured over my ears and my recently kissed skin. "Yeah," I thought to myself. Yeah. Taking this dessert to GO. And don't expect to get your pan back....No Instructions needed: I knew what I was getting into trying to talk to a military 22-year-old. Woops.... ;)
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AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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