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"Let's order some drinks?" he suggests, his voice a tad strained, trying to smooth over the awkwardness.
I nod.
The waiter arrives, and my date orders some fancy cocktail. He turns to me.
"I'll have a whiskey. Neat."
"You drink whiskey?"
I shrug. "Not usually."
But I'm going to need it tonight.
The waiter disappears to grab our drinks, leaving me alone with... What was his name again?
"So... what do you do for fun?"
"Well... I enjoy long walks on the beach, candlelit dinners... and making fun of overused dating cliches."
"Oh, you're funny," he states, sounding more like he's trying to convince himself rather than me.
"I try."
Before he can say anything else, our drinks arrive. I take a long sip of my whiskey, willing it to grant me the patience to get through the rest of the evening. As I place my glass back down, I catch him watching me with an odd look.
"What?" I ask, feeling self-conscious.
"Nothing..." he trails off, his gaze dropping to his own drink.
And we're back.
Awkward silence.
I find myself zoning out, my mind meandering back to Logan. There's something about him that sparks a fire within me. His playful banter—it's intoxicatingly charming. Even when he's being an obnoxious, arrogant jerk, at least he'sinteresting.
As I sit here, across from... What's-His-Face, I can't help but desire that spark, that intensity, thatLogan-ness.
Seriously Bailey, get it together.
I take another swig of my whiskey, hoping it will drown out these unwelcome thoughts.
As the evening continues, the date starts to resemble a one-man show. My companion tells his tales of his exotic travels, his investment portfolios, and his gym routine—all delivered in excruciating detail. His eyes are full of a narcissism that blinds him to the fact that I'm sinking lower in my seat, my mind drifting further away from his monologue.
Finally, the date ends, and I make my departure, finding myself numb. The bright city lights seem dull and the people passing by blur into shadows. The date was worse than I expected, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth that even the whiskey couldn't drown.
Fucking hopeless.
Is this what dating has become? Is there no one out there who’s authentic and unpretentious? Someone who can challenge me and make me feel... alive?
I grab a cab and head home. As the cityscape whizzes by the window, my thoughts drift back to Logan. The way he teases me, the sparks he ignites... it's frustratingly fascinating.
But that's not what I need, is it?
Is It?
Enough, Bailey,I chastise myself as I climb out of the cab. As I close the door to my apartment behind me, I put this disheartening night behind me. Tomorrow is a new day.
* * *
