Page 42 of Her Coach

“Nothing happened.”

“Brynn.”

I kept my eyes on the road. “I have a lunch date tomorrow.”

The sound she made was not a human sound.

“BRYNN.”

“I need you to be calm.”

“I AM CALM. WHO IS HE. IS IT THE COACH. IT’S THE COACH, ISN’T IT.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Yes, it’s the coach.”

“THE ONE YOU WERE TRYING TO SET UP WITH YOUR MOTHER.”

“Yes, Dani.”

“Oh my God.” I heard her sit down somewhere. “Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Start from the beginning. Leave nothing out.”

So I told her. All of it. The meeting with mom. The woman sitting next to him at the bar. The way he asked me to lunch by gripping my chin and saying I’m not going to have lunch with your mother. The forehead kiss.

When I got to the forehead kiss, Dani made a noise that probably disturbed her neighbors.

“He kissed your FOREHEAD?”

“It sounds less significant when you yell it like that.”

“No, it sounds MORE significant. Brynn, men who want to sleep with you do not kiss your forehead. Men who want to keep you kiss your forehead. Those are completely different categories of men.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “We barely know each other.”

“He kissed your forehead,” she said again, like she was filing it somewhere important. “What are you wearing for the date?”

“I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“Think about it. Do you still have that green dress from Portland?”

“Somewhere in the boxes, maybe.”

“Find it. Wear it. It makes your eyes do a thing.”

“My eyes don’t do a thing.”

“Your eyes absolutely do a thing, and I say this as your best friend who has watched many men discover this thing in real time.” A pause. “He’s older, right? How much older?”

“Fourteen years.”

Silence.

“Dani.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“You’re doing the silent judging thing.”

“I’m not judging. I’m computing.” Another pause. “Okay, I’m done computing. He sounds like exactly the kind of man who would kiss a woman’s forehead and mean it. I approve. Go to lunch. Be yourself. Stop trying to talk yourself out of things before they happen.”