I wasn’t stripping, I was so busy doing everything else, I didn’t need to work out.
How about we go for ice cream?
That got me about two full minutes of continual dot, dot, dots, which did not turn out to be a textual opus.
It turned out to be three words.
Right. Sounds good.
Such a lie.
I knew he thought it didn’t sound good.
He probably had protein shakes for breakfast and lunch and an unseasoned chicken breast for dinner.
What could I say?
He was Mo, Lottie’s fiancé’s former roommate, and Mo was a commando.
And so was Mag.
That was what I’d guess commandos ate.
That and rations.
You open Tuesday?
Yeah.
How about 6:00?
Liks. In Capitol Hill.
I know it.
See you there.
Great. Yes.
See you there.
This had all happened last Thursday.
It was now Tuesday and my hope was that his latest text would be about canceling.
It wasn’t.
It was,
Hey, we still on for tonight?
Because Mac won a gift card to a restaurant.
It expires tomorrow and if someone doesn’t use it, it’ll be wasted.
She’s offered it to us.
Mac, by the by, was what some people called Lottie, seeing as her last name, for the time being, was McAlister.
And considering she wasn’t close with her dad, she was totally going old school and taking Mo’s name when they got married.
“Yes,” I said out loud to my phone. “We’re still on, after I go in, see my brother, listen to him beg me to post bail while I try to find the courage to tell him this will be the last time ever I post bail for him or get his ass out of whatever jam he’s gotten himself into. Then I’ll fail to find that courage. I’ll then go to my second most often visited hotspot in Denver. Saul Edelstein, bail bondsman. But I actually do not want to have dinner with you, alpha male, probably toxic male. Though Mo isn’t toxic, he’s very sweet, but Lottie warned me you had ‘issues’ and needed someone to settle you down, and apparently, she thinks I’m that person.”
I stopped talking to Mag, who Lottie told me was actually called Danny, who wasn’t there.
And I stared at the phone thinking that the issues Lottie didn’t share with me, but the girls at the club did, were that some woman had broken Daniel Magnusson’s heart, and like a definitely toxic dude, his strategy for curing it was sleeping with everything that moved.
However, to be honest, although this appeared to be one more project I didn’t need, even if Lottie hadn’t been entirely forthcoming, my sense was that mostly Lottie seemed like she wanted to fix us up because she liked us both a lot, thought we’d be good together, look out for each other, and in the end, be happy.
I could not imagine what she was thinking.
A commando was so not my style.
A manwhore?
Totally not.
My last boyfriend was shorter than me by two inches, weighed twenty-five pounds less than me and his skin had not seen the sun for probably five years and not because he was a vampire.
Because he was a gamer.
I liked him.
We shared a lot of the same interests. He was funny, he could be gentle, he listened, he wasn’t all that great in bed, but he gave it his best shot, and he felt safe.
Of course, his eventual utter lack of interest in anything but gaming led to the demise of our relationship.
So now, I missed him.
Or the him I’d had before I lost him to gaming.
My thumbs flew over the bottom of my phone screen.
Sounds good.
When and where?
I was folding out of my car when I got back,
I’ll pick you up.
At six.
Pick me up?
For a date?
What was this?
1987?
I’ll meet you there. Where is it?
And 6:00 is good.
I was nearing the door when I received,
Picking you up, Evan.
Six.
I don’t think it’s fancy.
But I don’t think it’s T and jeans either.
Then,
Mac gave me your address.
See you at 6:00.
Of course she did and of course he was old school too.
No one got picked up for dates anymore.
And now I was stuck for a whole dinner.
It was easier to feign a headache or, better yet, period cramps and duck out if I had my own ride.
“Damn,” I whispered, standing outside the doors to the jail.
I texted,
See you then.
Looking forward to it.
I got back an unconvincing,
Yeah.
Me too.
Now I had to spend at least a couple of hours with this guy rather than snarfing down a quick cone while we mutually agreed we didn’t suit, shaking hands, then I’d go home and give myself a facial or watch some Japanese