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What now?
ChapterTwo
Arlo
So much forputting myself out there in the vain hope Jax might ask me out instead.
Two years, three months, and two days since he told me I had eyes the color of paint, and somehow, I’d crossed a line in my head where he wasn’t only my boss, but also the man I lusted after.
I knew it was a bad idea when my youngest brother Sutton created an online profile for me after lecturing me on how I needed to get out more and life wasn’t all about work. Trace, the middle brother of the three of us, said it was long past due for me to find myself a partner, particularly, as I was now lonely in the big old house after they’d left for college.
They both said I needed to jump Jax’s bones and get it over with.
Even though I said I was neither lonely nor pining for Jax, they were right on both counts. They wanted to fix me, but I only agreed to the profile because Ididwant to jump Jax.
In my more fanciful moments, I imagined him finding out I wanted to date, then swooping in, and declaring he’d always been in love with me.
Well, seemed as if that wasn’t happening now, and why would it? Jax and I were best friends, and yes, we spent time outside work together, and yes, we talked about everything under the sun, but no, I needed to move on from my insane that idea there was any chance he wanted to be withme.
My first match had been Wilton Hythe-Barron, accountant, safe, sexy-ish, with a steady job and a profile that didn’t include a dick-pic, so I thought it might be a good first choice. He didn’t seem to be thrown by the description of me Sutton had put up, explaining I was a carpenter by trade, and loved cake, and was searching for romance. It threw me when the staid accountant-type I’d connected with suggested karaoke as our first date, followed by a night at his place, and did I mind if he invited some friends as well. Although, he did add that the friends were for karaoke and not for the sex, in case I thought he was weird.
Was it weird that the group sex thing never even crossed my mind? #Vanilla.
Maybe that was what the dating scene was like now.
Karaoke. Sex. Strangers as an entourage. Or sex with a group. Or… My cheeks heated again. There wasn’t going to beonlysex because I wanted to be wooed, which was freaking crazy these days—I wanted dinner, and talking, and long walks on the beach.
Or whatever.
Also, there was the not-at-all-small issue that I didn’t want to date anyone other than Jax, not when I had all thesefeelingsfor my boss simmering just below the surface. In the back of my mind, as my brothers talked at me about dating apps, I had this mad idea if I told Jax I had a date after telling him for so long that I wasn’t ready to date, he would realize I was telling him I was ready, then jump me and tell me I wasn’t allowed to meet up with Wilton and I was his.
Yep. Didn’t happen.
“You can’t go on that date,” he blurted.
Hope swelled in my chest, and I waited as his mouth opened and shut as if he had things to say. “Why?”
He stared at me, blinking, and I waited with my best attempt at patience.
“Because karaoke is shit,” he said.
Silence. I stared at him, waiting for more, waiting foranything.
“I’ve never done it, so you know, it might be good for me to get out,” I offered, to fill the awkward silence.
He shrugged. “Find another guy on that app, someone who will do things right.” His words were staccato sharp, as if he were warning me and knew the dark secrets of app-dating. “If you don’t look hard enough, then you’ll end up with the ones who only want sex.”
Hope died, and for some reason, I wanted to poke at him, to get a reaction better than him pretending he knew best. “You do realize I’m just looking for sex, right?” I pushed, and he winced. “Wilton probably won’t even want to make it to the singing in public part.”
Jax turned away from me, picking up paperwork, placing it down again, shuffling it around so it was square on the counter. “Just… you’re a nice guy, Arlo, and they’ll eat you up.”
“Maybe I want to be eaten up,” I deadpanned and winced inside as he turned on his heel with an anguished expression. “Find someone who doesn’t mind a thirty-year-old soft-in-the-middle tradesman.”
“Don’t do that!” he snapped.
I deflated. I’d tried to get him to see I was there, he hadn’t taken an interest, and now, he was acting as if I was doing something wrong, and he was shaming me for wanting to move on with my life. But I didn’t want random sex, so why was I even pushing this?
“Do what?” I poked, and God knows where this pushy side was coming from, with all the needling and poking I was doing.
