Page 89 of Man Flu

“So, you’re looking more for the washed-up, motherly brand?” That sounded kind of bitchy, but seriously, how am I supposed to believe that any guy would choose me over Brielle, and why is this just now crossing my mind? I need a good smack on the back of my head.

“Is that how you see yourself?” he asks while sitting upright. “Can I just tell you something? Your sporadic comments here and there about your looks and how I shouldn’t look at you in the light, all that crap, I’ve heard everything you’ve said about yourself. Now, I don’t know what you see when you look in the mirror, but I see this brilliant woman with a strong personality and gorgeous features.”

“Logan, you don’t have to do this …”

“Jesus, Hannah, quit being so obnoxious for a second.”

I guess I’ve met my match. “Hey, I’m not being obnoxious. That’s rude.”

“Then, quit it. Yes, you’re a mother, and I think that’s amazing because it’s something I wanted to watch in life—a woman I love, mother our child. On top of that, you’re a single mom with a douchey ex-husband, yet you wake up every morning and put one foot in front of the other like every other schmuck in that office, but you do it with grace and confidence. I’ve already told you how hot I think that is, so if you don’t believe me, I’m sorry, but I’m glad as hell I got placed in your office because otherwise, I may never have met you in person. You know, there was this little voice in my head when I laid eyes on you that said, ‘Dude, you did the right thing. She’s something’.”

I’m at a loss for words, and I’m not sure I understand everything he just said. This type of thing doesn’t happen to me. I end up with crappy men because I’ve been the shallow one who goes for looks rather than a personality. Granted, I was in my twenties when I had that mindset and ended up in a ten-year marriage with Rick, but I blame myself for not being smarter back then. “I’m not fighting it, and what do you mean by, you may never have met me in … person?”

“Stop what-if’ing it,” he says. “Live, Hannah. You deserve to do that for yourself.”

“No one has ever said any of that to me,” I tell him, briefly forgetting my question about meeting me in person.

“Even with all that Words With Friends you do?”

“How did you know—”

A smile perks at the corner of his lips. “I’ve been known to play a few games. Actually, it’s funny. I started talking to this one chick who was a total workaholic and too busy with her daughter to agree to one simple date. Three times I tried to meet her, and she just kept canceling.”

I close my eyes, and my heart flutters into a fit of erratic thuds. “You.” Dickle15.

“You are a tough one to nail down.”

“You took a temp job—”

“So I could do it the old-fashioned way … yeah.”

Wow. Whoa, I am speechless. Should I be creeped out or flattered? “That’s kind of a creepy thing to do,” I tell him.

“I thought you might say that.”

“And you’re telling me after we slept together,” I remind him.

Now, I’m back to the “why me” part of this. A hotshot who could have anyone tricks me into meeting him.

“Online dating sucks, especially while playing the millennial version of Scrabble. I wasn’t sure I could go back and try things the old-fashioned way, but I wasn’t ready to give up. I’m sorry if it was wrong and deceitful. I should have been honest up front, but things spiraled quickly, and it kept getting harder to come clean.”

I may have a panic attack. I slide out of bed, taking one of the sheets with me, and close myself into the bathroom, needing a minute to think.