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So, are we meeting this weekend?
I close my eyes.
If you always do what you’ve always done, you will always be where you always were.
This is it. Either step up and be brave or get off this fucking app. I can’t talk to someone and never have the courage to meet them. Maybe if we meet at a restaurant and take it slow…
I open my eyes and I text back.
Yes, okay. Can we meet at a restaurant?
I hit send. A reply bounces back.
I’ll organize the restaurant and
get back to you.
My stomach flips. I already regret this. Shit, shit, shit, shit. I text back.
Okay.
xo
* * *
“Hi, there.” I smirk.
“Oh my God, what are you wearing on your date?” Natalie asks down the phone.
I close my eyes. “Oh, please don’t talk about it.” I sigh. “I’m five minutes from calling the whole thing off.”
“You’ll be fine. I go on a Tinder date every week,” she scoffs. “Why are you being a baby?”
“Men on Tinder only want sex,” I whisper.
“And your point is?”
“I don’t want just sex.”
“Oh, fuck off, you need to get laid… stat. Your vagina is closing up by the hour.”
I giggle. “This is true.”
“You don’t have to sleep with him, just meet him. Talk and see if you feel any chemistry. If not, text me, and I’ll call you with an emergency exit plan.”
“Yes.” My eyes widen. “That’s a great idea. Emergency exit plan.” I frown as I go over the concept in my head. “Wait, do you have an emergency exit plan?”
“No, I just tell them I’m not feeling it and I go home. I don’t give a fuck. I don’t owe them anything.”
Nat is the most honest person I know. “God, I would hate to date you.”
“Me, too. Now, wear something sexy and have a few glasses of wine before you go to loosen yourself up.”
“What if I get too drunk and wake up in his bed with him and his flat mate?”
“Then I’m coming over to high five you. About fucking time you let it all hang out.”
I burst out laughing. “Will you be serious?”
