He sighs. “I tried. There’s no one under fifty-seven.”
“Older women would be experienced enough to show you the ropes. They know what they like, and they’ll have no issue bossing you around. You’ll learn quickly.”
“Have you ever seen an old woman naked? Gross.”
“Fifty-seven isn’t that old, Neil. And one day, you’ll be fifty-seven. Do you want women to comment on how grossyourbody is?”
“I’ll be in the best shape of my life, banging hot, young chicks.”
I snort and finish my wine. “With that attitude, you’re going to be a fifty-seven-year-old virgin, my friend. I fully understand why you’re in the predicament you’re in.”
“So that’s a definite no on taking pity on me?”
He looks so hopeful, but his comment about older women being gross shot any sliver of a chance he could talk me into outof the water. “You’ve got a better chance of finding a hot chick willing to deflower you from the Virgin category than convincing me to strip off any clothing for you.”
“That’s fair. Since we’re not getting naked, are we splitting the bill, or…?”
Yep. Should’ve seen that one coming.
“You know what? I got it.”
Feedback
Love Triangle
Yeah, I know this category is weird, but it was a weak moment resulting in giving into my curiosity. The asterisk next to it on the list indicates it’s an imagination-required one, and I just really want to know how this plays out.
Which is how I ended up on a couch in a bar with Isaac. He’s so freaking normal it feels like a regular date—one where I could actually see us having a second and third. Actually having a goodnight kiss. And in a couple of dates, making it past second base.
“And when the guy walks up, he’s trying to tell me that I have to do it. I have to bolt the awning where he told me to. If I don’t, I’m going to ruin the entire design for the owner, and I’ll lose my job,” Isaac says.
His sandy hair and brown eyes have me captivated. He’s so warm and inviting. And pretty well built.
“How… how did he expect you to bolt metal to a window? That doesn’t work,” I say and laugh.
Shaking his head, he leans back. “Architects. He actually came back and told me that it worked with his program, so itwillwork here.”
“His program thought you could drill and bolt a metal awning to a glass window with no issues?”
“I guess. And because the program is apparently God, it was supposed to magically work in the real world. I asked him to bolt something to glass for me to see how it works since I’m clearly the stupid one. Any window. Just bolt something to it and show me how dumb I am.”
I gasp and drop my jaw. “He didn’t, did he?”
“Oh, he did. And the owner lost his mind. Of course, he picked a window that was specially treated and had a unique cut-out. Really expensive, and it went about as well as you can imagine.”
“What did he say? You had to tell the owner why he did it, right?”
A bright smile spreads across Isaac’s face, and I’m enthralled by his storytelling. His body language is so relaxed and inviting, and I honestly forget we met for a Love Triangle date.
“Oh, yeah. After the yelling stopped, I explained the situation. When I told him I needed the architect to show me how to do this because I was stupid, and his program is gospel, the owner called him a moron who had more student debt than brains and common sense combined.”
“How’d he respond?”
“Tried to blame me, of course. That I should have explained better. But the owner took over and said that if someone has to explain why metal can’t be drilled and bolted to glass, then he should re-evaluate his career choices… and maybe some life decisions while he’s at it.”
“That’s amazing.”
Leaning in, Isaac tucks my hair behind my ear, and I could melt right here. It’s such a small gesture, but it’s one of thoselittle things I love so much. The best parts of the greatest love stories.
