Page 28 of Tinder B@ng

“We’re seeing Natalia first,” Oakley says. “Full works.”

“Who’s Natalia?” Holland asks.

“Our Russian aesthetician,” Oakley explains, raising her brows. “We’re doing brows, legs, arm pits, and our kitties.”

Holland frowns. “Why do we need to wax our vaginas?” She refuses to call it a ‘kitty.’

Oakley lifts a finger, then calls Sebastian and puts him on speaker phone while we’re all standing around my kitchen. “Babe,” she says. “Why do I wax my kitty?”

“Uh,” he sounds bewildered at first, but then answers, “So that I can have Uber Eats.”

Oakley grins. “Thanks, babe. Call you later.”

I tuck my face into my arm to suppress my laughter, while Holland — our poor, naive Holland — looks more befuddled than ever. We stare at her, brows raised, and wait for the penny to drop.

“Oh,” she pulls a face. “Oh, my God, no. Ew.” She screws her face up as if she’s just eaten something vile. I lose the battle with my laughter, and so does Oakley.

“Have you never been eaten out before?” I ask Holland. Oakley is a dead giveaway, for obvious reasons. Though the Uber Eats thing is new.

“I have,” Holland replies. “I’ve just never understood the appeal. I didn’t like it.”

Oakley and I look at each other, and then turn to Holland. “Then he was doing it wrong,” I tell her.

“Very wrong,” Oakley adds. “It’s some of the best foreplay there is, especially if it’s someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“So you’re expecting Kalon to eat you out then?” Firstly, I know Holland is trying to psycho-analyze me by asking, and second, her expression while asking is absolutely one of the best things I’ve ever seen.

“I don’t know, Holland. He’s coming over for dinner, and if it leads to more, then it does.”

“And you’re okay with that? The not dating part I mean.”

“I’m just trying to go with the flow, babe. Whatever happens, happens, and whatever doesn’t, doesn’t. There are very few expectations as far as sex goes.” I hate lying to one of my closest friends, but Holland won’t understand why I want to be banged into next week. And why I’ve been thinking about Kalon being the one to do it when we’re not a couple.

“Right, girls,” Oakley claps, “let’s get going.” She’s like a kid in a candy store, even her eyes are alight with excitement and mischief. We get an Uber, which drops us off at Saks Fifth Avenue. We buy clothes we don’t really need, have some lunch, have our hair done, and then head to our wax appointment.

“I’m not so sure about this,” I hear Holland say. It’s a small-ish salon, but Natalia is the best. Oakley and I have been coming to her for years.

“It’ll be over before you know it,” I encourage. “You’ll thank us later.”

We hear Natalie tell Holland to relax, and then a, “Ow, Jesus Hobbit Christ! You pulled my vagina skin off!”

Oakley and I, being the good friends we are, snicker. I can’t help it. When Holland is done, she waddles out, which is a gross over-exaggeration of what it feels like to have your vag waxed. It feels more like a graze, or a burn. Oakley’s next, and then it’s my turn. Natalia quirks a brow. “You take too long between wax.”

“I know, but I haven’t been seeing anyone, so I just forgot about it.”

“Het,” she says, meaning ‘No’ in Russian. “You never forget to keep kitty clean.” She places the hot wax on my nether regions. “Man don’t like kitty that smell like dead kitty.”

“The fact that he has kids doesn’t bother you?” Oakley asks. We’ve just arrived at my place after our day in the city, and I’m wiped. And a little nervous. We dropped Holland off at her place, so it’s just me and Oakley now.

“It makes me a little nervous,” I admit. “Yes, we’re just hanging out, but that doesn’t mean I won’t see his kids, you know? And I don’t want him treating me like a dirty little secret either.” It's a conundrum I wasn’t anticipating, but now that Oakley’s gone there, I think it’s important for me to get my feelings on the topic out there. “I don’t exactly want to be a stepmom; they’re only, like, nine years younger than me. Which is weird.”

Oakley purses her lips, mulling it over. She’s got her thinking face on. “I guess it could be weird because of the age thing, but I wouldn’t put too much stock into it. He’s an older guy, you like each other, and he just so happens to have kids. It’ll only become a thing between you two if you allow it to. And if you think about it, it’s unlikely you’d find someone his age without kids, and you can’t tell me you’ll never date an older guy again once you and Kalon are done doing whatever you’re doing.”

When she puts it that way, I can’t really argue, but also, I don’t like the feeling that rises in my chest when she talks about me and Kalon being done. We’ve barely started, I don’t want him going anywhere just yet. “I think I’m going to take this one date at a time, starting with Friday. We’ll see what happens after that.”

One of the things I actually like about Kalon is the lack of texting. Which may sound weird, but it’s refreshing. I like that he isn’t blowing up my phone every hour just to see how my day’s going, or to find out who I’m with because he’s too insecure in his own masculinity. I’ve barely heard from him since Wednesday night, and I preferred it over the constant back-and-forth that’s often expected when you’re in that ‘get to know each other’ phase. The only time he does text me is to confirm our dinner plans for tonight.

Oakley allowed me to leave work an hour early so that I could be home and get ready on time. Now I’m just waiting for Kalon to arrive. I check my appearance in the mirror for the thousandth time after taking Oakley’s advice to dress down, and not ‘up.’ Braided-waistband skinny jeans, a black ruched bust rib-knit crop tee, and no shoes. My long brown hair is tied up atop my head, and I have no make-up on at all. This is the opposite of my usual M.O, but I’m taking Oakley’s advice — if it’s casual, why bother with getting all dressed up? Also, I’m ninety percent sure we’ll be having sex. I don’t want to worry about clothes being difficult to take off, or sweating my make-up off and smearing it God knows where.