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So many damn rules.
I'm sick of all the fucking rules.
My eyes land on a simple yet elegant navy-blue dress. It's form-fitting but not too tight and boasts a neckline that is flattering but not too revealing.
I finish the look with a pair of black pumps and a matching clutch.
I have to admit that I look good.
I look confident.
I look... normal.
And normal is what I'm going for. I'm not looking for a Logan. I'm not looking for an adrenaline rush or more chaos.
I'm looking for something simple. Something genuine. And this guy, this cute, normal guy I connected with on a dating app, might be it. I remind myself that it's good for me to put myself out there, to give someone new a chance. Logan and his charming antics may dominate my thoughts more often than I'd like to admit, but he's not what I need. Not now.
"This is about you. This is about meeting new people, about experiencing new things."
But even as I say the words out loud, I can't shake off the image of Logan's smoldering gaze, etched into my mind.
"No, Bailey, focus."
Tonight, I'm going on a date with a man who seems kind, normal, and interested in me. And that's exactly what I need. I'm ready for this. I'm ready for something new, something different. I catch one last glance in the mirror, I grab my clutch and head out the door, leaving thoughts of Logan behind.
* * *
I slidinto the plush seat of the upscale restaurant we agreed to meet at, my eyes scanning the room for him. I only know what he looks like from his bio pictures. His bio said he's 5 foot 11 and his pictures showed him with dark hair and piercing blue eyes.
I am scanning, scanning when I see the wave of his hand across the room.
5 foot 11?
Hardly.
More like 5 foot 8.
My thoughts drift to an image of Logan. 6 foot 3 inches of pure, unadulterated tempest. He fills a room, not just with his height, but with the electric charge of his presence, a volcanic charisma that's... oh God, I'm doing it again.
Instinctively, I start to compare.
Little Mr. 5 foot 8 doesn't exactly measure up.
But I shake off the thought
Height isn't everything, Bailey...
I know. I know.
I mean, I don't exclusively date redwoods. Though I can't deny, I've never really dated a... shrub.
He makes it over to the table I am sitting at.
"Well, Bailey, I must say," he starts, his grin a little too wide. "You're much more attractive than the photo on your dating profile."
I blink, trying to decipher whether that was a compliment or an insult.
"Thanks... I think."
