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I was twenty-nine, sitting on my own in my basement, drinking gin and tonic, and trying to decide if I wanted to play Candy Crush or not.
How fucking exciting.
I was saved from the decision by a text from Kinsley popping up at the top of my screen.KINSLEY: How was your date?How the hell did she know?ME: How did you know?KINSLEY: Colt came in to get a book on ducks and told me.ME: Ducks? What the fuck does he need ducks for?KINSLEY: Grandpa.Ah, right. The new additions.KINSLEY: Well? How did it go?ME: She was nice.KINSLEY: Ouch.ME: What?KINSLEY: Nice? That’s a polite way of saying it was a bad date.ME: Nah. It wasn’t a bad date. She was great and I had a good time, but I don’t see another date.KINSLEY: Why not? If she’s nice, what’s the harm?ME: Just didn’t feel a spark. Can we let it go?KINSLEY: I was only asking. Pull your pants out your ass.ME: Sorry. I’m tired.KINSLEY: Then go to bed and stop being a grumpy little shit.I chuckled under my breath. It wasn’t a half bad idea, but it was too early still. If I went to bed now, I’d be up at four a.m. and that wouldn’t achieve anything.ME: Too early. Want me to find you another date?KINSLEY: Meh. I’ve been chatting to that other guy and I don’t really like him.ME: What’s wrong with him?KINSLEY: He tried schooling me on Harry Potter.ME: Whoops.KINSLEY: I might have gone full bookworm on him.ME: So do you not like him, or did you scare him off?KINSLEY: Look, Cupid, if someone can’t take me going full bookworm, they don’t deserve me anyway.I was inclined to agree with her.
That said, my job was rapidly becoming a trek up Mount Everest. Maybe it was time for me to resign.ME: I can’t keep getting you dates just for you to scare them off.KINSLEY: He said the movies were better than the books, Joshua. I can’t let that go. That’s blasphemy. If I were Queen, he’d be hung for treason for saying that.ME: Well thank God you aren’t Queen.KINSLEY: I don’t know. I think I’d be a good Queen.ME: So you can make Harry Potter required reading?KINSLEY: Do I detect a hint of disapproval there, peasant?ME: No, Your Majesty.KINSLEY: That’s better.ME: So in other words, I have to do a full vetting of a future date’s HP preferences.KINSLEY: No, but just tell them not to argue with me.ME: If men in general accepted that arguing with a woman was a terrible idea, we’d all be much happier.KINSLEY: Keep saying that stuff, and I might just date you.I spat my drink all over my bar.ME: What???KINSLEY: Don’t sound so scared. I was joking.Yeah. And didn’t that fucking suck.CHAPTER ELEVEN – KINSLEYrule eleven: it doesn’t matter if the book is always better. everyone is entitled to their opinion. even if you think they’re wrong.“Tell me again why you didn’t tell Josh you’re going out with this new guy he found?” Saylor blinked at me from across the table full of books.
I sighed. I knew she’d judge me for this, and the truth was, maybe I’d wanted her to. I really didn’t know how to broach the subject of my last physical conversation with Josh and the subsequent text messages where things had gotten awkward, but this gave me an opening.
“Our last conversation was… weird.” I sliced open a box with a letter opener and set the tool down. “After my date the other night with Jamie, he came over, and it was… weird.”
“Yeah, weird, I get it.” She rolled her eyes as she started a stack of James Patterson’s new release. “But why?”
“That white dress? He seemed to have a thing about it, and I thought it was because I looked bad, but then he finally admitted that he was glad I didn’t wear it because it made me look beautiful.”
“That… goes against the point of his matchmaking,” she said, reaching up and tying her blonde hair into a loose knot. “What the hell?”
“Exactly. And then, before he left, he said he was sorry my date went badly. I asked him if he really meant it, and he said no.”
“So he was happy your date was shit?”
“Basically. I pushed it the next day when we were texting, and he didn’t reply. I confronted him again and he admitted that when I sent him a picture of me in the dress it, um.” I blushed. “Turned him on.”
Saylor’s eyebrows shot up so quickly, NASA was going to call her. “He what? He got a boner over a picture of you in a dress?”
My cheeks burned even hotter. “That’s what he said. Why would he lie about that?”
“Why would he tell you that?”
“Well, I wouldn’t leave it alone.”
“Naturally. I expect nothing less from you.” She flattened her hands on the table and leaned forward. “None of this makes any sense. I just—” She stopped.
