‘Drink?’Christian offers.
‘Nah,’ I dismiss him, almost a little rudely.
I continue my way out into the lounge room, scanning the area, just in case Nora happens to make an appearance.Now that I think about it, I never see her out, or at parties.The only time I ever run into her is at my own house.
Vibrations have me glancing down at my phone.‘Mum’ reads across the screen.Grimacing, I decline the call, shoving the phone deep into my pocket.My good mood evaporates.I’m still avoiding that entire situation.I know it’s not healthy, and it’s not something I can continue to outrun, but I just can’t invest energy into it right now.I have enough going on as it is.
The front door opens.Turning around, I find myself hopeful it might be Anya, with Nora and Cami in tow.My already-darkened mood deflates considerably when my ex walks inside, laughing at something her friend said.
What the fuck?Why is she here?
Our gazes connect immediately and she smiles at me.The redhead from earlier walks over to her and they hug.Oh.Great.They must be friends.
‘Fuck my life,’ I mutter, striding back to the kitchen.‘I’ve changed my mind,’ I say to Christian, who’s mid-conversation with a dude I don’t recognise.He’s mixing himself and this guy a drink by the looks of it.‘Pour me a drink.’
5
NORA
I SHOULD NEVER HAVEleft my house tonight.
It was comfortable.Warm.Lo-fi beats were playing.I had just reached the plot twist in my current read – which literally made my jaw drop – and even better, I was in my matching silk pyjama set with a cup of sencha beside me.Honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a better evening, and yet here I am, sitting across the table from an arrogant, obnoxious man who has been staring more at my chest than my face for the past hour.
‘Hello?’the man says, leaning over and prodding my arm with his finger so hard that it kind of hurts.He has dark eyes and rumpled clothes, as if he picked up whatever shirt was closest to him on his way out the door.I think the photos I saw on this guy’s profile were from a few years ago because he appears to be older than I’d originally thought.
He blinks at me expectantly, an annoying half-smirk twisting his lips.He already seemed more than tipsy when we arrived and has easily drunk another four drinks since we sat down.Our food hasn’t even arrived yet.
‘Sorry, what did you say?’
‘I said the next round is on you,’ he grins, offering me an exaggerated wink.When I fail to reply, he gestures to his drink.‘I got the last two rounds.’
My mouth opens then closes.‘Uh … I haven’t had any of them.’
‘Well, they were for you.’
I eye the empty schooners parked in front of him.‘Right … I wasn’t aware.’Since Ispecifically mentionedI don’t like the taste of beer and he proceeded to order two after that.
This is the worst date I’ve ever been on.Not only was he late, he arrived semi-drunk and spent the entire first half of the date talking about himself, sparing only a single comment about the ‘low-cut’ top I’m wearing.It’s just a normal t-shirt, but my chest makes even the most basic top look like I’m trying to show off the size of my breasts.Unfortunately, this has been an issue for me ever since my growth spurt in puberty, hence why I often wear baggy tees and jumpers two sizes too big for me, but I didn’t feel either of those options were appropriate for a date.
I hate this.Online dating is not for the weak and feeble, and I don’t have the resilience or the strength for it.I never wanted to try it, but I’m sick of the patronising looks and comments I get from my family when they probe about my love life.Or lack thereof.My editor’s comments about my sex scenes not feeling realistic enough are cemented in my brain.I still remember reading that email with a sinking sensation in my gut.The world of romance is beginning to be very disheartening in real life.The only dating experiences I have include an online relationship I had once and then that awkward one-month relationship a friend of mine set up, which I’d rather not think about.
The online relationship was a confusing time.His name was James and he made me feel seen and heard for the first time in my life.He was someone who knew who I was in the online world – had even read my writing – and knew about my personal life, too.He was the first person to know the real me, inside and out, and I sort of fell for him.As much as you can over a screen.
After a few attempted meet-ups where he either didn’t show or he cancelled at the very last minute, I decided this wasn’t for me.I began questioning whether he was even real and then began panicking about all the information I had stupidly told him.The relationship started when I was young and naive.We must have spoken every day for about four years or so.When I finally cut him off, it felt like a break-up.My first heartbreak.It inspired one of my bestselling novels.
That’s another thing my family loves to complain about.Me writing my ‘silly little romance novels’.Pain splinters up my cheek and I instantly loosen my jaw.Clenching has become a bad habit I’ve formed when I let my mind get lost in all the thoughts about how much of a disappointment I apparently am.Surreptitiously, I touch my fingers to my cheek, as if that will help relieve the slight ache there.
The comments from my editor led me to re-downloading one of the dating apps and when … John?Jake?Jack?Shit – I’ve totally blanked on what his name is – asked me out for a drink, I forced myself to type out ‘yes’ and dragged myself out of my comfy bed.Now, I realise what a huge mistake that was, and as always, I should have listened to my gut.I’m trying to be more adventurous, but it’s hard to stay positive when you take a risk and it doesn’t play out the way you had hoped.
‘What’s your passcode?’he asks.
My chin jerks up in surprise when my eyes land on my phone in his hand.He gestures to it.
‘What do you need it for?’I question in confusion.
‘To order more drinks?’he raises a brow, beginning to look frustrated with me.
Once again, I’m left with no words.Quietly, I reach for my phone and type the passcode in, and more than a little reluctantly, hover the phone over the QR code.
