By the time I’m off, I’m convinced he hadn’t meant to message me at all. He probably doesn’t want to keep talking to me. Maybe he’s moved on.
Wouldn’t that be my luck? To get attached to someone who doesn’t want me back? I’m always the last chosen out of a lineup. That’s how I became a travel nurse. After getting my license, I’d applied for a dozen stationary positions in my hometown, and when I didn’t land a job, I said screw it and made my own way.
As difficult as it can be, especially without my travel partner, I still love what I do. The pay is amazing, the frequent changes keep me interested, and I love meeting new people. Most of the time, anyway.
I just wish this job didn’t makedatingso damn difficult. No one wants to commit knowing it’ll be a long-distance relationship in a few weeks. It might have something to do with my round belly and bulky glasses too, but I try not to think about that. The long distance is also a legit reason.
I take a Lyft to the hotel, then kick off my shoes and grab the carton of ice cream from the mini fridge. Plopping down on the couch, I let out a dramatic sigh.
“Hello, my sweet. I’ve waited all day for you.”
The ice cream doesn’t reply. Rude.
I open it and take a bite, trying to get comfortable. As far as hotel sofas go, I’ve had better. But at least this isn’t one of those fold-out, hide-a-bed monstrosities.Thosethings were designed in hell, I swear.
My phone buzzes, and I nearly drop the ice cream when I see Jordan’s name.He’s awake at one in the morning?
Jordan:Sorry, was at work. Messaged earlier when I was on lunch break.
Oh. Well, that makes sense. Why do I always jump to the wrong conclusion?Maybe because every other guy has ghosted me?
Me:It’s ok. Though I’m surprised to hear from you. It’s kinda late here…
Jordan:I’m a bartender. So I get home late when I close (we close at midnight).
Wait, we work similar hours?
I take another bite before replying, letting the small chunk of sweet goodness melt on my tongue.
Me:Gotcha. Did you have a good night?
Jordan:Yeah. You?
Me:It was long, but… eh, mostly okay. Got to hang out with a favorite patient a few times.
I don’t hear from him for a few minutes, so I eat some more ice cream. It’s embarrassing how many times I reread the conversation. Something about him intrigues me. Does he feel the same?
Finally, my phone buzzes.
Jordan:You can’t hear me, but I’m cursing your name…
I smirk.
Me:Oh? Should I be worried?
Jordan sends a picture, and it takes a moment to understand what I’m looking at. Inside a brown plastic bag is a skein of green yarn and a package of four crochet hooks.
My jaw drops.
Oh. My. God.
Jordan bought yarn? Afteroneconversation about crocheting mice? Shit, that’s… well, it’s unexpected. Either he really loves his cat, or he’s not shy about trying new things, and that makes me dangerously optimistic.
Bubbles appear as he types again.
Jordan:Don’t even know if they’re the right thing, but hey. Points for trying?
Hell yes, he gets points! All the points!
