“I can’t work for someone who doesn’t respect my boundaries,” I say, slipping my hand out from under his.
“What happened this weekend? With Dex? Did he go to the retreat too?” he asks, leaning closer.
“Yep. And I’ve decided I can’t be anywhere he is until I’m totally over him. I need to choose my sanity and myself over him,” I say, sitting up straighter.
Our drinks slide in front of us and they are strong and scrumptious, but the longer I stay and talk with Nate the more it becomes apparent that Match 1 was correct. I’m not sure Nate knows I still just want to be friends. He slides into the chair next to me and keeps draping his arm around my shoulder and whispering things into my ear. He talks with his hands and reaches over me, accidently brushing his fingertips over my chest. Every time it happens my thoughts wander back to Dex, and the way he would touch me.
I order another drink wanting to forget his name.
“Jane, I still think the only way you’re going to be able to stop thinking about Dex is to move on and find someone else,” he says running his hand along my side.
I level my eyes at him and shake my head, “I’m not ready. Not with anyone real, anyway,” I mumble.
Nate gives my waist a little pinch and I jump, my bottom lifting off the seat and slamming into the bottom of the table. “Jeez,” he chuckles. “What is up with you tonight. You’re like a bouncing ball.”
“That hurt,” I grumble, shifting over to create some space between us. “You’re kind of hands-on tonight, aren’t you?”
Nate shrugs and sips at his drink. “I guess I just don’t like seeing you like this. You haven’t been the same since you came back from London.”
“A lot of things happened after I went there,” I sigh, sipping on my own drink.
“You think that’s what really broke you and Dex apart, the distance?” he asks, taking a strand of my hair and tucking it behind my ear.
That was a Dex move. I don’t want anyone else touching me like that and I lean back, putting my entire body of his reach.
“No, not at all. Uh…will you excuse me? I’m going to head to the bathroom before the food comes.” I stand up and don’t try to mask my annoyance. Why the hell does Nate always have to weasel his way into my space like this? He never wanted me when I wanted him, I was never more than an afterthought, a second choice; doesn’t he know I remember that?
I hide in a bathroom stall for a few Nate-free moments. I slip out my phone and shoot Match 1 a message on Misanthrope.
Jane:You were right. My work friend doesn’t seem to remember I just want to be friends.
Match 1 replies instantly.Again.Doesn’t this guy have a social life? Why can he always message me back so quickly?I imagine a morbidly overweight thirty-something sitting in front of a computer watching Yiff porn, with an overabundance of sweat-soaked body hair and cringe.
Match 1:What happened? Did he try something? Are you okay?
Jane: Slow down there, Serial Killer. I am a skillful deflector of unwanted advances.
Match 1: Are you?
Jane: Yes, trust me.
Match 1: What if you drink too much?
Jane: I’m fine. I’m taking a breather in the bathroom. Why are you so available to message with me? Again.
Match 1: Maybe I’m worried about you.
Jane: I’ll be fine. But thank you for caring.
I smileand slip my phone into my back pocket. I leave the notifications for the Misanthrope app on vibrate. I want to be able to know if Match 1 is messaging, maybe even still worrying about me.
I head back to the table just as our food is being served. “Hey,” Nate says, smiling up at me, “I was getting a little worried about you. Everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah,” I wave my hand at him like there’s no grabby-hands problem between us. “Wow, look at this food, it looks delicious.” I’m going to scarf down this burger and get home as soon as I possibly can. I decide, right then and there, I need to know Match 1’s name.
Match 1, the person who is worried about me tonight and caring about what I may be going through.
The burger is fabulous, the fries even better. Great music blasts out of the speakers and another two drinks find their way to my hand. Nate must have told the waitress to keep them coming. I notice he’s sipping his slowly.
