Everyone But You (2011)
“I want to say something, but even after he’s had scotch, Charlie is one hell of a nice drunk. He is nice and I am nice. Sometimes I think that’s the problem, that neither of us can be mean or say what we’re really thinking. When I meet him for our date, Charlie looks up from his glass, then rakes his thin brown hair back with his fingers. He shifts in his chair and takes me in—the possibilities of the night, of us—and then he smiles, as if he’s still trying, after two weeks of seeing each other... naked, to make a good impression.
There are other things Charlie does that make me feel sweet about him. He pulls a chair out for me in the way a gentleman or a boyfriend might. He lets out a low whistle when I slip off my jean jacket and shimmy a little, showing him the chest that the Good Lord graced me with in this life. “Daisy,” he says, eyeing my sequined top and talking in that low voice I’ve come to love because it’s both raspy and tender. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Charlie,”MoreLess
There are other things Charlie does that make me feel sweet about him. He pulls a chair out for me in the way a gentleman or a boyfriend might. He lets out a low whistle when I slip off my jean jacket and shimmy a little, showing him the chest that the Good Lord graced me with in this life. “Daisy,” he says, eyeing my sequined top and talking in that low voice I’ve come to love because it’s both raspy and tender. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Charlie,”MoreLess
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