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I just met the woman a week ago, and I’m already imagining how it would feel to have her writhing under me and moaning out my name. It’s safe to say that if Lottie ever called me Daddy, I’d fucking lose my mind.
Okay, Alice, or whatever your name is.
You better bring your fucking A-game on our date.
Otherwise, I can’t guarantee I won’t spend the entire time fantasizing about our matchmaker.
Shit.
Even if you do, I’ll probably end up daydreaming about Lottie anyway.
Chapter 12
Charlotte
Nate:You sent me a dud.
Me:I did NOT send you a dud. People are not duds, Nate.
Nate:This one is. She can’t stop talking about her cats. IE: DUD.
Me:Being passionate about pets does not make a person a dud.
Nate:If that’s the only thing they talk about, then yes, it does. FML.
Me:Are you always this negative?
Nate:Yes.
Me:Well, then stop. Give her a chance. You might find that the two of you have more in common than you realize.
Nate:Doubtful.
Me:Wait? Are you texting at the table?
Nate:Yeah, so?
Me:It’s rude being on your phone when you’re on a date, Nathan!
Nate:Shit. You called me Nathan. Fine. I’ll get off the phone.
Me:Good. And please try to have some fun.
Nate:Blowing my brains out sounds pretty fun to me right about now. If she shows me another picture of her precious pussy again, I’ll lose my shit.
Nate:Never thought I would write that sentence down.
Me:Focus! Be present.
Nate:Now you sound like my therapist. Fuck. Fine. I’ll be present.
Me:Thank you.
Nate:Sure. Just find me another one. This dud won’t do.
Me:She’s not a DUD.
Nate:Let’s agree to disagree on that one.
