Page 8 of Your Pace Or Mine

I immediately regret my words because she looks surprised, her big green eyes widening. I wanted so badly to talk to Laurel, and now I’m attacking her for voicing an opinion.

“I haven’t forgotten, Ash. It wasn’t that long ago I dated that guy who asked me to cover our whole meal, including the expensive steak he insisted on, because he’d lost a big windfall at the track.”

I snort. I’d forgotten that gem.

“And I didn’t cut Cal off!” she adds emphatically. This is apparently still a sore spot. “He was driving slowly in the left lane. It’s not my fault I’m a better driver than him.”

I’m not sure of her logic, or her driving for that matter, but I let her win this one. “I’m sorry. My head is all over the place today. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“You know I just want what’s best for you,” Laurel says as we round the corner to my building. “You’ve always been the more romantic one, waiting to meet your soulmate in the most unexpected way. But if you feel like this app is the right move for now, then go ahead. I’ll cheer you on.”

She’s not wrong. She’s always been more wary of love, whereas I’m someone who cries over romantic comedies and wants the improbable Hollywood love story. It was easier to believe in romance and letting things happen in their time when everyone in my life wasn’t moving ahead and leaving me behind.

“One good thing is that he wants my feedback, so maybe I can help improve the app.”

“What do you mean? Like troubleshooting features?”

“He didn’t elaborate, but I assume I’ll have some input on their latest features and stuff.” We discussed this over dinner, but at the time, I was mulling the social media aspect and hadn’t thought about the app instead. I look over at Laurel, and a kernel of an idea starts to generate, thinking about the experiences we’ve had on dating apps. She and Cal were both users before they got together, and at one point he asked her for pointers since he was a newbie at online dating after his divorce.

“Ash? You there?”

Lost in thought, I didn’t even realize we were approaching my building. We stop in front of the entrance.

“I was thinking,” I reply. “Remember when Cal asked you about dating apps, and you made a joke about not sending pictures of his junk to women?”

She snickers. “How could I forget that? He never lets me live it down.”

“Poor innocent Cal,” I say, causing her to laugh harder. “Anyway, the point is, he had no idea. I think a lot of men have no idea what it’s like for us, the kind of harassment we deal with on dating sites.”

“Okay, but what does this have to do with you?”

I mull over the idea that’s percolating. “Well, now I have Sebastian’s ear, I can press him to take this more seriously and work on strategies to deal with constant unsolicited sex invites and dodgy photos. To make the experience safer.”

“That would be great,” Laurel replies with enthusiasm. “Especially since the platform’s selling point is its local focus, which means the creep who won’t take no for an answer can see what part of the city I’m in and may live only a few blocks away.”

“Exactly!” The idea of making the platform safer for women sparks something in me. “I don’t know how far Sebastian will let me take this, but I’ll think through how to pitch it to him and his business partner.”

“Great! Keep me posted.” She turns to run the few blocks home but stops and looks back at me. “You know I’m here for you any time, okay? I might have concerns about this, but if you need to vent about this social media stuff, I’m here. I promise not to nag you.”

Ugh, I was hoping we were done with her thoughts on Sebastian. I get that she’s looking out for me and worried I’m going to get burned, but I know him better than she does. I’m not going to let my heart—or my hormones—get attached. I learned my lesson the first time Sebastian and I hooked up.

“I’m good,” I reply. “But I appreciate it.”

I watch her leave, the blue LED vest blinking as she runs down the street.

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