Is it really me that can’t find a nice woman to carry on a conversation?
My eyes track Bex in the restaurant. Like a lighthouse pulling ships safely into harbor.
Everything she’s doing says she’s enjoying herself. Leaning into the conversation. Maintaining eye contact. And—fuck—touching his arm.
I swig down the rest of my water. Thank God for practice tomorrow because otherwise I’d be hitting the bourbon.
Although I don’t think that’d be strong enough to deal with the feelings I’m having right now.
Bex. On a date. With another man.
Fuck.
This is not something I planned on. We were supposed to be helping each other.
“Sir, excuse me.” Our server appears next to me. “Your dinner guest asked me to give you this.”
He passes over a small piece of paper and leaves the table.
Sorry, Nick. I can’t do this. It’s not you, it’s me. There is someone else and I don’t want to be with someone that isn’t him. Please forgive me. - Edith
Are you fucking kidding me?I really have the worst luck, and now I’m going to have to tell my sister that her date stood me up.
Do they think the more dates I go on, the more they will somehow boost my confidence? If so, it’s not working.
Because I don’t want their help now.
All I want is Bex.
Locking eyes with her again, I notice her date isn’t there. I want to storm over there, grab her, and pull her from this restaurant and tell her how I’m feeling.
I don’t give a shit that we’re in the middle of a crowded restaurant and people could see us.
I want Bex. That’s the long and short of it.
Tired of planning out every move, I pull out my phone and fire off a text to Bex.
Meet me in the bathroom
I haveno idea if she’ll come or even answer. But I can’t take it any longer. All my feelings are being shaken to the point they’re ready to explode like a soda bottle.
I don’t recall ever feeling like this. But Bex?
She makes me crazy in the best way possible.
I shouldn’t be as worked up about this as I am. Bex and I both agreed that we’d go on dates and then we’d circle back around to see how it went for both of us.
Even the thought of her on a date right now has jealousy boiling inside of me. Which isn’t something that’s ever happened before.
I don’t get jealous.
I guess there’s a first time for everything.
I don’t know what came over me to text her to meet me in the bathroom. I’m still trying to figure that out.
To what…to talk? To tell her to cut her date short and date me instead?
This is becoming a problem with Bex. I want her, but I don’t know how to make this happen. All common sense flies out of my head the minute I’m in the same room as her.
