Page 7 of Venus

Three weeks. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen Venus. Since she walked out of my bed, my apartment, and apparently my life without a name, a number, or a second glance.

I’m in my apartment, pouring a bag of chips into a bowl and pulling fresh-cooked burgers off the skillet. Trevor, Jacks and I are having a Sunday night football party.

Well, party is a loose term, since it’s just the three of us. But burgers, beer, and football. Sounds like a good time to me.

But I’m pathetic, because I’ve been stuck in the cycle of thinking about Venus, and it’s gotten to the point that I’m burning the burgers I’m trying to cook because my mind is elsewhere.

I just want to see her one more time. I’ve been back to Schooner’s three times a week since I last talked to her, and it’s like she’s vanished.

No name. No number. Just a memory .

As I’m putting another round of burgers in the hot pan, Trevor and Jackson barge in together. Trevor drops two six-packs of beer on the counter and I give him a disappointed look. That is not enough beer to help me forget Venus.

I take one anyway, cracking it open with a bottle opener and chugging it.

Trevor takes one next, slumping into one of my recliners in the front room.

“Dude,” he says as Jackson tosses two more six-packs on my kitchen counter.

“This has to be some kind of record. Three weeks. That’s a high-level simp. Olympic-tier. Gold medal for the USA!”

I roll my eyes, but he’s not completely wrong. It is pretty pathetic, and long past due for me to move on. I flip the burgers then rest my hands on the kitchen counter. “So what do I do? Start swiping right again?”

Trevor grins. “Well there’s this girl—”

I groan. “I do not want your seconds.”

No offense to the girls he’s been with, but there’s just lines I don’t want to cross with my friends. Sharing pussy is one of them. That mustache on his face is becoming a biohazard from how many women have sat on it. I want no part of that.

“She’s a friend of a friend of a girl I hooked up with a few nights ago. She’s seen you around. She’s real cute and thinks you’re cute. That’s like…fate. How about I set you up?”

I shoot him an unimpressed glare. “Hard pass. ”

“Dude,” Trevor protests. “I’m not saying you have to marry the girl. Just give her a chance. If you don’t like her, then don’t see her again.”

The football game starts and we momentarily forget the conversation. As soon as it breaks to commercial, Trevor pulls up his phone and zooms in on a group photo of a group of girls.

He wasn’t wrong, this girl is cute. Blonde hair, blue eyes, pretty smile.

But they’re not her blue eyes and it’s not her blonde hair.

But I also know I have to stop chasing the ghost of a girl that doesn’t want me.

Reluctantly at halftime, I agree to meet up with her.

Trevor texts his fling and he passes along the girl’s phone number.

Her name is Evelyn, and I take a deep breath before sending a message introducing myself as a mutual friend and asking if she wants to meet me at the diner tomorrow night.

She replies quickly and enthusiastically.

I have to admit, it feels good to know that there’s someone out there that’s actually excited at the thought of seeing me, and Evelyn helps me forget about Venus.

For now.

I push open the door to the only diner in town. It hums with low conversation and a child asking their mom for a quarter so they can get a gumball at the machine by the register. My hands instinctively go into my pockets as I search around for a head of blonde hair.

I spy Evelyn just a few feet away. She waves and stands to greet me, giving me a sweet hug. She looks exactly like the photo, and her energy is adorable. The waiter comes to the table and we order, and then the conversation begins to flow.

She’s great. Better than great. In fact, I’m enjoying myself. Most of the conversation is just getting to know little things about each other. Where we grew up. Our families. Our jobs.

She’s a wedding photographer, and we laugh over the crazy stories of drunk wedding guests.

Just as my thoughts start to drift to the fact that Trevor might have been right about this, the door opens.

In the middle of one of Evelyn’s stories about a bridezilla, my breath gets caught in my throat and my heart drops straight into my shoes.

It’s her.

Venus.

The rest of the diner seems to fade into nothing. She doesn’t see me, but I sure as hell see her. Same blonde curly hair. Same little jean shorts faded in all the right places. She walks in like she owns the floor tiles. Confidence in every line of her body.

She approaches the to-go counter and skims one of the sticky plastic menus there. She bites her lip and cocks her hip out as she considers her options, her ankle rolling in soft circles as she leans against the counter .

Then, like a slap, cold water splashes across my face. I gasp and the entire diner goes silent. I blink and regain my wits, looking forward to my date. Evelyn looks to Venus and then back at me, her face furious.

I open my mouth, but no words come out. Evelyn shakes her head, gathers her purse, and mutters ‘jerk’ as she storms out of the restaurant.

I sigh and take the last three limp napkins from the dispenser on my table to wipe my face. When I open my eyes again, a hand extends toward me with a few extras.

Venus gives me a teasing smirk. “She’s better than me. I would’ve gone for the nuts.”

Her causal tone makes me chuckle and I take the extra napkins from her. “It was deserved.” I dab the wet spot on the front of my pants and slap the ice off my lap. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“We live in a town with a population of six thousand people, of course we’d see each other around,” she says.

“That’s not what I meant.” I say back. She takes a straw from the little container on the table and plays with the paper wrapper. “I meant that I wanted to…I just didn’t think blindsiding you at the hospital was the best option. There’s a very fine line between a romantic and a creep.”

“Appreciated,” she jests, poking me with the straw. “So, you looking for another hookup or what?”

I shake my head. “No!” I laugh out. “The exact opposite. I wanted to ask you on a date. A real one. Maybe one where I don’t get waterboarded mid-salad.

” She raises a brow as if she doesn’t believe me.

“I’m serious. Don’t get me wrong, that night was amazing and so is your body.

” I take the straw from her and poke her in the chest. “But I want to know the secrets you have in here, not just those secret butterfly tattoos on your hip.”

“You’ve been holding out for weeks for a date with me when you don’t even know my name?”

I shrug. “You said you like Venus better.”

She sticks her straw and takes a sip of my own glass of water. She makes a dramatic sound like she’s just quenched the greatest thirst. “Alright Goldilocks. Diner. Dinner. Date.”

“You mean right now?” I ask.

Her food is ready and she unboxes a giant mound of cheese fries. She takes a plastic fork and points at them. “These don’t travel well and I don’t want to eat in my car.”

Even though the water Evelyn splashed on me was ice cold, I feel like it couldn’t be hotter in this diner. It must be her and the effect she has on me. I get nervous. She’s giving me this chance and I don’t want to fuck it up.

“So I got pooped on by a newborn yesterday,” she says, as if that’s a normal conversation to have at dinner, however run down the location might be. Maybe she’s testing me to see if I can handle the gross stories she has to tell, but I’m a paramedic, and I’ve seen some things, too.

“I feel like that’s a pretty normal occupational hazard,” I say.

She laughs between a bite. “Yeah, but it was the most interesting thing that happened to me this week. ”

“Damn, and all I did was crawl into a burning building to rescue a puppy.”

Her eyes widen. “Wait, really? You saved the dog, right? Tell me you saved it.”

I smile. “Yeah, he was perfectly fine, just a little singed fur.” I nod toward her. “You like dogs?”

“Everyone likes dogs! I want a pittie so bad, but my apartment doesn’t allow dogs. As soon as I get a new place I’m hitting up the shelter though.”

“You strike me as a golden kind of girl. Why a pit?” I ask.

“Why not a pit? They’re adorable and they’re just misunderstood. I’ve never met one that wasn’t a total sweetheart.”

As she finishes her fries, she goes on a long tangent about rescuing dogs and how if she wasn’t a nurse she’d probably be a vet.

“So if you love animals so much, why’d you choose nursing instead? It seems like you’re really passionate about animals.”

She gives me an awkward smile that says the conversation is veering into territory that’s not mine to tread in. “It’s a long story.”

She inhales through her teeth and gathers her garbage. She stands to leave, but I’m not letting her sneak out so easily this time.

“Wait,” I protest, reaching for my phone and unlocking it for her. “Please, can I have your number? ”

She looks at me like she’s ready to say no, but after a long pause, she picks up my phone from the table and types in her contact info. When she hands me my phone back, I see that she’s saved herself as ‘ Venus ’.

“That’s not your name!” I protest.

“You asked for my number, not my name.”

I huff but concede and stand with her. I lead her out of the diner and we say our goodbyes. Her exit isn’t nearly as abrupt as our first meeting, waving to me over her shoulder and then again when she drives off.

You’ve got her, champ. Don’t fuck it up.