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I realize that dating now is very different than it once was. The internet has led people to some amazing connections, but it’s also led people to some really disastrous ones too. Right now I feel like she’s picturing me on an episode ofCatfish.
“We all thought she was crazy. I mean come on. No guy that nice is still single,” Lauren would say to Nev and then there’d be the split screen of my stupid shocked face when I realize the guy is like eighty-five years old or two fourteen-year-old girls who’ve been fucking with me this whole time.
“No, it doesn’t sound stupid,” she says, but it feels like she’s placating me or maybe I’m just self-conscious about the whole damn thing. “Why don’t you see if he wants to meet you for a date? Then if he’s sketchy about it...” she trails off, not finishing her thought because she doesn’t want to say this whole thing might go to shit just like every relationship I’ve been in.
“Yeah, I hear what you’re saying. Maybe the whole thing was stupid to begin with. I did take advice from Jack,” I say, trying to put a humorous spin on the situation.
“Seriously, invite the guy on a real date and see what happens. If it goes to shit, you know what I think...” Again she stops talking, hitting me with a suggestive glance, accompanied by a wink and a smile. “There’s someone here who I’m sure would be happy to take you out.”
“Are you seriously still stuck on that? Tommy isn’t going to want to take me out on a date. I’m sure he’d also be pissed if he knew you were constantly trying to set me up with him. He’s all but said it. He thinks I’m some twit who’s too young to date seriously.”
“You guys seem to be spending a lot of time together.” She shrugs casually, like us working on our bee project makes us suddenly compatible.
“We have been, but that doesn’t mean he wants to date me.”
“I’d beg to differ, but go ahead and see how things play out with your online guy. Maybe he’s the one and if not, Tommy looks really good without his shirt on.”
She smiles at me, nodding her head to agree with herself and all I can do is laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing is. I wasn’t even supposed to be trying to find a boyfriend and now I’ve got Lauren shoving Tommy in my face and this online mystery guy keeping me up at night. But more than that, what Lauren says about Tommy has me wondering if maybe he really is interested in me and I’m just missing it.
Chapter Fourteen
Tommy
WineQueenFamilyTruckster: you ever think we should just say fuck it and meet up?
I don’t normally get messages from Wine Queen during the day, in fact I never do, so it surprises me when I hear the ping on my phone and see this question from her.
Me: yeah of course, do you?
The bubbles pop up and down, as though she’s thinking about her response or typing and deleting it. I’m not sure why that makes me nervous, but it does, so I slide my phone into my back pocket again, trying to ignore it as I go back to helping Jack with stocking the bar in the cider house tasting room.
My phone eventually pings with another message and as I put the last bottle of cider from the box in the fridge, I pull my phone from my pocket again.
WineQueenFamilyTruckster: yeah…but it also makes me nervous.
Me: why?
WineQueenFamilyTruckster: idk…what if it’s not the same in real life, not as good?
Me: what if it is? What if it’s better?
I exhale, leaning against the bar as I stare at my phone, willing her to respond, even though I’m not sure I actually believe my own words. I mean yeah, I’ve thought about us meeting up more times that I care to admit. And while the idea does make me nervous, for the same reasons it makes her nervous, I can’t deny that I’m intrigued by this woman.
And wondering if real life could be so much more than just good.
WineQueenFamilyTruckster: Yeah, I know…can we…I don’t know, wait a little longer?
Me: of course…I’m not going anywhere.
“Who you messaging?” Jack says, wandering over to stand beside as he peers over my shoulder at my phone.
“No one,” I say, sliding my phone into my pocket again.
Jack grins at me, his arms crossed over his chest. “Bullshit,” he says. “You’re sexting someone, aren’t you?”
I roll my eyes as I grab another box of stock for the fridges. “I am not sexting anyone.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You ever check out that app I put on there?” he asks, as he moves down to start stacking the fridge with clean glasses.
