be trusted since I’d pined after Holden for all these years.
“So what happened? You just didn’t like him?” Maisy popped a piece of chicken strip in her mouth.
“I don’t know…he’s just…” He’s not Holden. “He’s not the one.”
“What are you looking for in the one?”
“Um…I’m not really sure.”
Her brows lifted and it was clear that she did not believe what I was telling her.
She knew me well enough to know that if I were looking for someone, I would know exactly who or what sort of person I wanted. And she wasn’t wrong. I knew exactly who I wanted. “You aren’t really sure?”
“I mean, I did make a list.”
She rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Oooh, what’s on the list?”
“Obviously, I have to be attracted to them.”
Her head tilted to the side as she studied me. “What is your type? I mean besides Channing Tatum. The actor, not your dog.”
I did love a man that could dance. But other than that, I wasn’t really sure. The truth was, I didn’t really have a physical type. No two guys I’d ever dated had shared similar features or body types. I was attracted to people for different reasons, but no one had ever come close to what I felt for Holden.
“I don’t really have a type. It’s more about chemistry and feeling that spark.”
“Fair enough. So, what’s on the list?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about the wedding? I figured that’s why you—”
“No!” She cut me off. “That’s the last thing I want to talk about. I texted you because I needed a break. I don’t want to think about invitations, or seating arrangements, or cakes, or my dress, or anything wedding related. I didn’t sleep at all last night driving myself crazy. I need distraction!”
It didn’t surprise me that she was obsessing about the details. Maisy was more type A than I was.
“So, the list,” she prompted again before stuffing four French fries in her mouth.
“Um…” I picked up my phone and pulled up my Notes app. “Honesty. Sense of humor. Athletic. Kind. Family oriented. Driven. Passionate. Challenging—”
“Challenging?” she interrupted me, looking genuinely confused.
“I get bored very easily. I can’t be with someone who just agrees with everything I say and doesn’t ever challenge me to be a better person or get out of my comfort zone.”
“Speaking of comfort zone!” Her eyes lit up. “Molly told me that you were going to start doing naked yoga,” she whispered the last two words.
I smiled. She was acting like I’d started an OnlyFans account. “I did. This morning.”
“Did you like it?”
“It was okay.” I shrugged. I’d actually thought that I’d feel more rebellious, or something. But all I’d really felt was cold. And I had the strangest feeling, like someone was watching me. It hadn’t freaked me out, or anything. But I doubted I’d do it again.
“Okay, continue.” She waved her hand toward my phone.
“Wants to have kids. Shares the same values and morals that I do. Is handy. Can change a tire and the oil in a car.” I lifted my hand. “Because I can do those things, so I feel like it’s only fair that he can. Which brings me to something that I haven’t written down: he has to own a vehicle.” I’d been out with two guys that were ‘between cars’ and I’d had to pick them up. It was a deal breaker for me.
I looked back down at my list and continued reading, “Ambitious. Is just as happy staying home on a weekend night as going out with friends. Has sex appeal. Has strong friendships. Understands me. No smoking. No drugs. No baby mama drama. They can have kids,” I clarified. “But no baby mama drama.” I set my phone down and picked up a triangle section of my sandwich.
“Wow… that’s…a lot.”
“Is it?” I took a bite and set my sandwich down. “I mean, Bentley would tick all those boxes for you. And Jackson ticks all those boxes for Josie, and—”
“No, you’re right.” She interrupted me. “It sounded like a lot, but I guess that’s not true. There are quite a few guys that would.”
I finished another bite of my sandwich and wiped my mouth. “And you want to know something really depressing? I’ve actually met guys that tick all those boxes for me, but there’s still just something…missing.”
The something being they are not Holden Reed. I sounded like a broken record, one that needed to come off the turntable.