Time crawls by slowly when you are super-duper anxious about something. But noon was inevitable, and soon it was upon me. I began preparations for my august visitor, and I can only hope he shows up because you cannot guess what will happen with catfishes. Trust me. They are flakier than harmattan dandruff.

I took a bath and put on one of my favourite blue jeans that I have not won since my first trimester. It fits me perfectly, so I pair it with a V-neck pink T-shirt. I tied the end into a knot underneath my bustline to primp up my generous curves. My makeup is very minimal. I combed my brows, powdered my face, adding a little highlight to my cheekbones, and dumped a fair amount of natural pink gloss on my lips.

Yea, I know I love pink. Shoot me.

What can II say? “My lip gloss is cool. My lip gloss is popping.”

Looking in the mirror, I gave myself thumbs up for a job well done because I looked like I tried but still natural because I maintained a monotone with my makeup. The key was to look like the person in my profile picture because of those stories about how people look different when you meet them. The catfished must not become the catfish.

By the time I finished, it was already 12:30 pm. Sam woke up and fed again. I changed her diapers and wore her a matching pink dress and shoe.

It was almost 2 pm when I got a text from Samuel notifying me of his arrival at my gate, and my stomach dropped. My calves are tender, and I am almost hyperventilating.

Ok, calm down, Debby. Either he shows up, and it goes wrong, or he turns out to be a friendly person, and things go well. Worst-case scenario, he does not show up at all and is just pulling pranks on me. Either way, it is time to face the music.

I gave myself one last look in the mirror. I sure clean up well. Picking up Sam, I began my walk into an unknown future.

I got to my gate and gave myself some seconds to keep my nerves in check. Even though I do not know whoever I am about to meet, I trust that is not a bad person. Bracing myself for whatever was outside the fence, I unlocked the gate, pushed it open, and stepped out.

I looked to the side and got the wind knocked out of me. Leaning against a Mercedes Benz is the sexiest man I have ever had the pleasure of setting my eyes on. A knowing smile played on his top lip as he pushed his staggering length off the sleek black car he was leaning on and walked towards me with the sun forming a glowing halo around him. We lock eyes and can not look away. His eyes are mesmerizing.

His high cheekbones, and well-structured face, plump pink lips, and cleanly shaved beards is a work of art. Believe me when I say his picture did not do him justice. He is wearing a grey blazer over a navy blue dress shirt, black pants with white sneakers, and his curls are pulled back in a tight ponytail, with nerdy glasses perched on his nose.

Standing before me with a smirk plastered on his face is none other than Samuel.

And boy, is he even real?

I know I am gawking, but I can not help myself until his voice drew me out of my daze.

“It is my utmost pleasure to meet you, Miss Debby doubting. I am Samuel. Your one and only catfish. Also, you can stop staring now. I know I look good, but I doubt I look that unbelievably good.”

I can not believe it. His voice sounded better in person, too. His British accent, which now I know is not fake, makes him sexier.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr Samuel Obnoxious. And you can wipe that self-satisfied smile off your face before I smack it off for ya.”

I extended my hand for a handshake, but he hugged both me and Sam in a swift move. I must admit that I finally understand the craze about tall guys and short girls. There is just something about how I fit into his arms that is… dare I say, gorgeous? And he smells good too… Like a billion bucks.

“Believe me, sweetheart. The pleasure will be absolutely mine.”

“Boy, you are smooth as jazz.”

“You forgot intoxicating as rum.”

Gosh, he smells so good.

I detached from his body and immediately missed his warmth. His eyes went from my head to my toes.

“You are gorgeous.”

He licked his lips as the words rolled off his tongue.

Oh, lord! You better stop this boy before I climb him like a fucking telephone pole.

I took a miserable step back to see his face as his proximity brought my height to his ribs.

Calm your tits, Debby. You are undressing him with your eyes.

With great effort, I tore my eyes away from his body.

“Hey, little Princess Sam. How are you? Nice to meet you.”

He took her from me and kissed her head.

“She does not take well to strangers, so be warned that she might start crying any second now.”

“Bollocks… She is going to like me. She can recognize a real one when she sees it… unlike her mother, who should be thoroughly ashamed of herself right now.”

She wasted no time warming up to him, which is odd because apart from family members, no one holds her. I expected her to rush back into my arms, but I was wrong. Her small hands traced the curves of his face, and she almost dipped a finger into his eyes. But he caught it, and she giggled adorably.

“We are going to be noble friends, are we not?” She placed her cheek on his chest with her hand on his collarbone. It looked like she was hugging him. “Yeah. We are best buds already. I like you a lot too.”

He was talking to her like a baby whisperer, and I was thinking about the odds of Samuel Harrison being an actual person and not the work of an over-ambitious photo editor.

He stared directly at my lips with such passion that I felt shock waves rolling through my spine.

Lord have mercy.

He bit his lower lip and smiled, clearly enjoying me squirm under his gaze, and for the second time, my jaw dropped when his dimples made an apparition.

Where is the fire extinguisher? I am on fire. 

I am drooling at this point.

How can anyone be this perfect? He is tall, slim, and fit? His face is gorgeous, and he smells like a sex god. His voice I can listen to forever, and his eyes are going to be my undoing. I had to pinch myself to remember that he is a friend.

Just friends, I said. 

I am in trouble.

“Are you going to invite me in or not?”

“Sure… you can come in, but be warned. I have a Taser.”

“Hm… you are a dangerous girl, Debs. I find you… unpardonably stimulating.”

“There is something on your lips, Mr Samuel. Clean it up.”

“What is that?”

“Your irritating charm.”

He threw his head back in laughter as I lead the way, and I could not help but feel self-conscious walking in front of him.

Suddenly, I hate my decision to wear denim and an old shirt. I hate coming came out in barely there makeup, and I questioned why I ditched the Spanx.

I love myself, and I was a pretty confident person until now, except for the times when my extreme anxiety and paranoia would pay me unwelcomed visits. This is a new level of self-consciousness I have not felt before. I am a new mother who has not lost a single baby weight, and I am currently walking in front of a red-haired Matt Bomer. So yes… I feel like absolute shit. Before you go shaking your head at me and lecturing me about self-confidence, keep in mind that I was not expecting him to be real. I was not expecting a guy who is clearly out of my league. I was expecting a fat, ugly, female catfish assuming the identity of a digitally created model.

The joke is on me.

Maybe it is because I have kept away from people for a while, so it is natural to feel some type of way about meeting people again.

You are in denial, girl.

I know I am just making excuses to justify what I am feeling. I can not help but admit that I am attracted to Samuel. I mean, who wouldn’t? He is no catfish and is hella sexy. I am feeling things I have not felt in a long time. The prominent one being… want.

Damn.

My body is a traitor.