Chapter Three

“So.” Jayda leaned back on my bed and wriggled her toes in her stripy socks. My best friend had skipped out early on a bad date, promptly deciding to show up at my house with wine, ice-cream, and candy. “How about you tell me about your last date?”

“Nuh-uh.” I pulled a Twizzler from the packet and bit off the end. “You know about my last horror date. You’re the one who ran away tonight, and if you showed up with all this, it must have been bad.”

“Aside from the fact I know better than to show up at your house without Twizzlers—”

“True story.”

“—You’re right. It was terrible. Probably the worst one ever, actually.”

I turned my head away from the Friends re-run and stared at her profile. She was the blond to my brunette, and I had no idea how she was single with her cute button nose, full lips, and large, blue eyes.

“Worse than Johnny Knox?”

She groaned, leaning her head right back against the headboard and reached for her wine glass. Instead of the glass, she grabbed the bottle. I smirked when she took one look at it, shrugged, and swigged straight from it.

“Wow.” Wow was the right reaction here. If it was worse than Johnny Knox, Mr. Handsy himself who tried to get her off right there in the middle of the restaurant, it was bad.

“It was a string of bullshit, Kali. First up, he shows off late.”

Been there.

“Then, he didn’t look anything like his picture. Claimed the only different was the fact he didn’t have a beard or dark hair anymore.” She waved the bottle and put it down, switching it for the glass before changing her mind again. “Fine, whatever. He was still cute. I sucked up the fact I’d spent thirty minutes getting sympathetic looks because everyone thought I was being stood up. You know what? I wish I had been!”

Oh, boy.

“So, he finally sits down. We order two drinks and our meals. He refuses to get starters or a dessert because of the price, and that’s the first hint he’s a total fuckboy.”

I “hmmed” in agreement.

“He doesn’t ask what I do or how I am. He doesn’t even apologize for being late. Instead he launched into a monologue about how stressed he is at work and how lonely he is since his pet rabbit, Cheeto, died.”

“He named a rabbit Cheeto?”

She held up a pink-tipped finger. “Not to mention his budgies, Ben and Jerry, are fighting colds.”

“Budgies get colds?”

“Apparently. So, he’s heartbroken over Cheeto, Ben and Jerry are sick, and honestly, I wanted to ask him if he had an ant farm collectively named the Sour Patch Kids or something equally ridiculous.”

“You didn’t?”

“No.”

“You missed a trick there.”

“We’re not all unfiltered like you.”

“I’m not unfiltered.” I paused. “I’m…quick-witted.”

She raised an eyebrow at me, setting the wine bottle down—and leaving it there instead of picking it back up like she did before. “Sure. Quick-witted. That’s one way to describe it.”

“Why did I let you in?”

Jayda waved the Twizzler packet at me.

“Shut up,” I muttered, snatching it off her. “Tell me the rest of the date.”

“Where did I get to? Oh, yeah—the sick budgies.” She wedged the tub of ice-cream onto her lap and wriggled. “So, I apologized, but before I could ask him anything, he dove into a spiel about how his mother never loved him.”

Oh dear god.

“What did you do?”

“I downed my wine and excused myself to the bathroom. Marcie sent the new bar girl in to tell me to run on her signal.”

“What? Why?”

“Marcie corralled him toward the bar with the promise of a free drink, because she’d heard his sad tale, and needed a new whiskey tried out.”

“Did it work?”

Jayda nodded. “I left to the sounds of him regaling Marcie with a tale about how his mother kicked his first cat, Noodles.”

“I don’t know if the bigger concern is his obsession with animals or his mother or the way he names them.”

“The names. No grown-ass man should ever admit to having a cat named Noodles unless his sister named it.” She sighed. “I think I’m destined to be single forever.”

“No, you’re just looking in the wrong places. I’m starting to figure out that online doesn’t mean success.”

“Starting?”

“Want me to make you feel better about your life?”

She nodded. “That’s always helpful.”

Sighing, I got up out of bed and went to fetch my laptop from downstairs. When I had it, I went back up and sat on the bed, loading it up. “I checked my messages before I went to work this morning. Some of them were so bad… And not even just bad, but some of them were the grossest things ever.”

“Well, I haven’t had those this week. I guess that’s a plus.”

“No kidding. Okay, here.” I logged in to the dating website and went to my message box. “Look at this guy. “Kinky sub for you to keep in chastity and make your little bitch.” And if it wasn’t enough, check the pictures.”

I clicked on one and looked away.

“Oh god, my eyes! They burn! Get it off!”

I winced at the…portly…gentleman wearing nothing but leather straps and a collar on his knees and hit the ‘x’ button on the pop-up.

“I have two questions,” Jayda said, peering at the screen from between her fingers. “The first one is, why do you get those and I don’t?”

“Do you want them?”

“Shit—please, no.” She snorted. “My next question is, why do they keep coming to you? What’s in your profile that isn’t in mine?”

“Dunno. Do you think it’s the builder thing?”

“Maybe. Mr. Kinky Sub sound like he wouldn’t mind you screwing him into a wall.”

I stilled.

Turning to slowly meet her eyes, the twinkle in them killed me within seconds. We both burst out laughing, and I reached for my now-empty wine glass.

“Damn it.”

Jayda waved the bottle. “I’ll pour it if you tell me about the new guy in town.”

“Brantley Cooper?”

“Is he the twins guy?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Jesus,” she muttered. “Even his damn name is hot.”

I snatched the wine out of her hand. “You should see his ass.”

“Do you need, uh, an assistant next week?”

“His kids were fighting when I got there, then drew on the walls right before I left.”

Jayda wrinkled her nose up. “Hmmm. Let me know on the assistant thing. I mean, I might be busy.”

Imagine that.