When the partying ended in the worst possible way, I’d spiraled into depression. There were no men there. There were no people there at all. It was just me, my regrets, and my self-hatred.
And an ample amount of fear-induced panic attacks.
Culinary school had pulled me out of the worst of those hopeless days because it taught me how to work for something. It showed me that work, especially work I loved, could be way more effective in helping me move on from the hard parts of my past than partying ever could.
I could never overcome my sadness during those wild days. Or shake loose the feeling of being isolated. Depressed. More alone than ever.
Food showed me how to feel amazing at the end of a hard night. Fulfilled. Empowered. Exhausted.
But it had also led to the next stage of dating—the one that didn’t exist because I was so freaking busy all the time.
The one I liked to call self-ordered celibacy. And I was happy here. I was happy alone. Mostly happy anyway. I was at least happy that I’d removed the fear from my life.
Most of the fear anyway.
Did I even want to settle down? That was the big question.
Full disclosure, I was a million miles away from wanting kids and the whole domestic thing. But I was starting to notice how completely alone I was. I wanted someone to text at the end of a hard day. I wanted someone to bring to Christmas dinner at my mom’s house. I wanted the flippy feeling in my stomach and the giddiness that came after answering a particular phone call. I wanted to get rid of the pang in my chest every time I thought about my happy friends or the random people holding hands while they walked around a grocery store together.
Watching my brother turn so completely upside down for Molly had been the most adorable thing ever. And Killian and Vera. Now Wyatt and Kaya.
I couldn’t help it. I wanted what they had. I just didn’t have the time to go through all the hoops to get there. Or the tenacity to survive it.
Ten minutes later, the coffee shop door opened, and Matt Brennan walked inside. At least Matt Brennan’s profile picture walked in.
I’d been doing this long enough. I couldn’t rule out a cat-phishing scenario just yet. Guess I’d hope for the best.
Standing up from behind the tiny table, I lifted a hand in hello. “Matt, hey.”
His eyes swept over my low-cut olive jumpsuit and distressed cream cardigan and lit with approval. I’d worn my hair down for the first time in weeks and it suddenly felt too hot on my back and shoulders. I struggled against the urge to tug at my top and cover myself more fully, I gave in a moment later, wishing I’d been more conservative with my outfit choice. And then I scolded myself for letting my past fears intrude on this moment. I loved my outfit. I looked amazing. Who cared what he thought? Pulling my hair over my shoulder, I reached out. “So nice to meet in person.”
He took my hand and pulled me into a hug. My thigh jostled the table as I jerked against him. “We’re closer than handshakes, aren’t we?”
No. No we were not. My entire body bristled at the surprise contact and I had to breathe slowly through my nose to keep from bolting.
God, I hoped this guy was just overly friendly with zero ability to recognize social cues. Because otherwise my knee was going to find its way to his balls uninvited.
Generally, hugs didn’t bother me. In fact, my friends would probably consider me a hugger. But this felt forced and awkward. Pressured. I would have preferred the handshake—and even that seemed generous.
Laughing awkwardly, I pulled away and took extra care not to bump the table again as I sat down. “I hope you don’t mind, I got here early, so I already grabbed a drink.”
He frowned at the mug on the table. “I was going to get that for you.”
No apology for being late? No acknowledgment that I had put some effort into making this as easy for him as possible? Laughing off his comment, I said, “It’s no big deal. Like I said, I was early.”
His eyebrows lifted, a lightbulb turning on inside his head. “You’re one of those people, huh?”
“What people?”
“Type A. You know, always on time, bossy, do things for yourself.”
Uh… I wasn’t even sure how to respond to his list of barely veiled insults. “I am a boss… if that’s what you mean.”
He sunk down into the seat across from me. “That’s right. I keep forgetting you’re the EC. That’s cool.”
My lips turned up to form a smile, apparently pleased at his compliment. “Yeah, it’s been… uh, interesting. I mean, I love the job. But it’s been a difficult transition.”
Matt was a good-looking guy. Tall and big-boned with the warmest chocolate eyes and a few days’ worth of scruff gave him an adorably disheveled look. Like a teddy bear. The last couple guys I’d dated were the kind of men totally obsessed with their looks. They spent half their day at the gym or staring in the mirror, which was fine. I just wanted someone that didn’t care so much about their appearance.
