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I felt a little robbed by how long Nicolai had kept me away, and the thought quickly turned bitter against the back of my throat.
“You’re thinking abouthim, aren’t you?”
I huffed into my rice and swallowed before answering her. “It’s hard not to.”
She pointed her chopsticks at me. “You need some fresh dick.”
I almost choked, grabbing my beer to chase a lump of rice and eggs down. “I’m sorry?”
“Yeah, you are kind of sorry, but it doesn’t have to stay that way. I mean, you did the job thing, and you got your own place. You never have to see that shit stain again, right?”
I blinked at her. “Um, I suppose that’s true.”
“You should let me set you up.” She smiled at me, her expression never wavering even as I sighed and set the rice box down on the table. “I’m not saying to get married or anything, Jules. I just think it would be good for you to remember there are other guys out there who aren’t Nicolai. Who aren’t anything like him.”
“I’m not really in a place to be dating right now,” I told her quietly. “I can’t take them home to…that.”
She shrugged. “I think you don’t understand how much people in this city don’t care. And the ones who do aren’t worth your time.”
I didn’t really know what to say. On one hand, the idea of being able to go out for coffee with someone totally new, who had no connection to my past, was thrilling. On the other hand, I still felt all twisted up and messy inside. And none of that changed the fact that I had never actually dated. My entire romantic life was summed up by a handful of teenage kisses and then one man who’d dominated my every waking hour from eighteen to twenty-four.
I didn’t know who the fuck I was outside of him. He was my first everything, and he was such a toxic narcissist that I was shit scared he’d taught me to be one too. There was no way I’d be able to live with myself if I turned out to be anything like him.
“Could you at least give it a try? You’ve been holed up in that apartment for weeks, and the holidays are coming up. Just…go out for drinks or something. I know at least half a dozen men who’d be happy to go out with you.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Maybe it was time to try something new. Maybe it was time to shed the bits and pieces of the shell that had cracked back in London. “Do you know these people personally?”
Joy’s eyes brightened, and I couldn’t help but think maybe this was a giant mistake. “I wouldn’t hook you up with a stranger,” she said with a scoff, then she shrugged. “But I also have friends who know the ins and outs of dating apps, so—”
“No. Absolutely not. I’m not doing apps,” I told her.
She gave me a flat look. “I know what a fetish you have for the seventeen hundreds, but you’ve gotta join reality eventually, Jules. Just…think about it. For now, I’ll give you the number for this guy who goes to my gym and tell him to look for your text. He’s been talking for weeks about wanting to find someone, and you’re just his type.”
“And you want him to look for mytext?” I said.
She blinked at me. “Yes. Text. That’s what the kids are doing these days.”
“Fantastic.”
Her grin widened at my toneless answer, and she sat back, looking far too pleased with herself. “You’re gonna love this first guy. He’s not super outgoing, but my God, the abs on him.” She stopped and groaned. “You’re going to die.”
I was pretty sure at that point she didn’t get my type at all, but, as I reminded myself, that was kind of the point. Try something new. Be a little different. After all, being myself hadn’t really worked out.
Chapter6
His name was Karl. With aK. Which he spelled out over the return text he sent me like I might get it wrong after I got his number from Joy. He was kind when I asked if he’d pick a place in Brooklyn, though, and he chose a café that wasn’t too far from my apartment.
It was one of those funny little joints that was dressed up to look like someone’s living room instead of a place of business. Yeah, there was a counter and a display window, but the walls were covered in succulents and random books, and none of the chairs or their cushions matched.
The employees all looked a little like they’d rolled out of bed after a three-day cheap beer binge, and their expressions all said the last thing in the world they wanted to know was someone’s coffee order.
There was charm to it, but it wasn’t my sort of place.
The only reason I agreed was because if I got stuck with any kind of bill, I’d be able to afford it. Karl offered to meet me there, then, in very nineties fashion, said he’d be wearing a black coat and carrying a book, and that I wouldn’t be able to miss him.
He wasn’t wrong.
He looked…a bit like a priest. He wasn’t in vestments or anything, but there was something a little too pressed and modest about his buttoned brown cardigan that went halfway up his throat, and he sat at the very edge of his seat with his hands around a mug of tea.
