I’m so 3008. You’re so 2000 and late!

The bell rang.

I looked through the window and saw the most gorgeous ass I’ve seen in a while. Anyway, I opened the door thinking he’s selling something. He turned around and that’s when the show begun!

His gaze started from my toes, got stuck somewhere down the middle, and then climbed up slowly. The guy took one look at me and blushed. Men these days blush! Did you know? I swear I didn’t. I looked down. Mortified! That’s what I was.

Take this guys.. I wasn’t wearing pants. I usually spend my day inside wearing just a unisex tee that usually reaches mid-thigh. No one comes over before 5 pm, and I obviously forgot the fact that I was only covered by a tee when the bell rang today.

“I.. uhh.. I’m here to work on.. umm.. the yard.” McHottie said.

Oh. Right. Mom had something about the yardworker. But Mr. Yardworker never rings the bell. He’s old. He comes, does his work, and leaves. We usually just mail him the check.

“I’m sorry I should have called. Dad.. uhh Mr. Yardworker is sick.”

I finally regained my senses as he interrupted my thought process.

“Oh I’m sorry.. I guess. I mean sure. Go ahead. Do you need something?”

“Uh I’m good. I’ll umm leave you to your work.” He gave me one of those head-to-toe looks followed by a wink, and walked away. It took me a second before I realized that I was still standing in front of the door, looking at him as he walked towards the driveway.

I came back upstairs and wore some sweats. On top I pulled on my dad’s college sweatshirt. Even though I tried to stop myself from doing so, I peeked from the window.. And then dear readers, I gulped. Because this six foot tall man was shirtless, and was skillfully fixing my mom’s flower beds. I’m not a fan of dating white guys, but a girl can look and flirt, can’t she? I went back downstairs and fixed some lemonade. Today was our first real day of 60 degree weather, and I was not going to let this man sweat outside (although watching the sweat make its way from his shoulder down his pants would be sexy!).

I walked outside and put a jug of lemonade, two glasses, and chocolate chip cookies on the deck. McHottie spotted me, dropped his yardwork-weapons, and lazily strolled towards the deck. If I weren’t sure that my old neighbor was sitting on her deck and definitely looking for gossip, I would have jumped him right away.

McHottie poured himself some lemonade and popped a cookie in his mouth. Awkward! One of us would have to talk and obviously I wasn’t going to do it.

“So you wore some clothes” he said with his mouth full.
“Uh yeah it was either that or shedding. The choice was hard but I managed to decide.”

I don’t know if he could sense the nervousness in my voice but if he did, he didn’t make a show of it. Instead he told me about himself. Where’s the decency, man? I didn’t even ask! Guess my eyes did the talking.

Supposedly McHottie is becoming an entertainment lawyer. We ate cookies and talked about a recent local court case. Plus I found out that we have some mutual friends.

I offered to help him with some of the yardwork so he could get done and go home to his dad and I could enjoy a couple of extra minutes with him. He cringed at first. I could tell that he was unsure but I assured him that I won’t tell my mom or his dad.

“That’s not it. Have you ever done yard work before?” He said as he visually scanned me.
“Um no.. but I can try” and then I mumbled “Plus you don’t look like you were made for yard work.”
“Did you say something?”
“Nope. It’s probably the heat getting to your head. Want some more lemonade.”

He laughed and handed me a heavy object that nearly made my fall on my face. It was the blower!
I helped him with it. Plus I also helped him while he fixed our trees. I hear his father thinks that my mother is a pain in the ass. I don’t blame him; she can be one.

And with that, he gave me a hug. We exchanged numbers and with a promise to call me, he left. I don’t plan on ever seeing him again, but who cares.. I don’t go for second helpings when it comes to white guys. They’re too tempting.