The Dating Alternative, page 4
“Well, actually…,” I start to make my move to tell her about breaking up with Aubrey and see if she’d be up to hang out again when her phone buzzes.
“Sorry! It’s my roommate—she never calls me. Do you mind?” She asks, pointing to the phone.
“Of course not, go ahead,” I say, nodding toward the phone.
“Hi, Cate,” she says, answering the phone. “Holy shit! Are you kidding? No!” She shakes her head, taking off her glasses, and squeezing the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “Where are you? Okay, I’ll be right there,” she says, standing as she fiddles with her phone. “I’m so sorry—that was Cate. She lost her purse, or it was stolen, maybe, and she needs me to come get her,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“Oh man, that sucks! Let’s ditch our trays and we’ll go get her,” I say, standing.
“No, please—finish your lunch. After all, I made you buy when I beat your ass,” she smiles coyly. “Seriously, I already called an Uber… they should be pulling up now.”
“Okay, if you’re really sure…,” I reply, completely deflated.
“I was going to airdrop you my contact info, but I don’t see your phone…,” she says, looking at the device in her hand.
“Oh, it’s under A MacCallum.” She cocks her head to the side in question. “Long story,” I reply.
“Oh, okay. Got it!” She says, and my phone dings with a notification. Contact information for Sabrina Ball. I accept immediately and reply with mine.
“Thanks again for lunch. Just text or call me about the business plan. I’m happy to take a look. I’ll see ya around, Max,” she says, patting my shoulder once as she turns to go.
“Yeah, okay, see ya, Cheese,” I reply as I watch her walk away. Damn. I had hoped I’d get the chance to make some solid plans to see her again, but at least I have her number, and like my Grandpa used to say, that isn’t nothing.
• • •
It’s Saturday evening and I didn’t hear from Cheese all afternoon, so I decide to text her to check on her. I want to make sure everything worked out okay with her friend, but I also want to gauge her interest.
ME: hey cheese. it’s max. u guys make it back ok?
Her reply was almost instant. Good sign. I’ll take it.
CHEESE: yeah we r good. cate lost her purse. we cxld her cards. no cash. all good.
CHEESE: sorry i bailed on u. was having fun 2
ME: me 2. we should do it again sometime. u buy when i kick ur ass next time.
CHEESE: im happy 2 let u buy when i kick ur ass AGAIN next time
ME: i just put 2 & 2 together.
CHEESE: showing off our math skills are we?
ME: no smartass. i mean ur name.
CHEESE: huh?
ME: ur last name is ball. CHEESE BALL
CHEESE: OMG. never thought of that. ur the only one that calls me that. i want u to tell me what big a stands 4
Big A? Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.
ME: i will sometime
We exchange a few more messages, say goodnight, and that’s when I realize I have a stupid grin plastered across my face. I feel like I have actually accomplished something today. Physical activity together. Check. Short but fun lunch. Check. Number acquired. Check. Casual, fun, almost flirty text banter. Check.
All I need to do is spend some time with her again. I’ll explain how I broke up with Aubrey, pour on the charm, and ask her out. I’m not waiting around this time, either. Last time, I missed out because the timing was off. I was already dating Aubrey when I found out she was single. Even before that, she was dating Brad when I realized how much I liked her. I wasn’t about to let the best girl I know slip through my fingers again. I wasn’t going to give up on her without a fight.
CHAPTER 5
Brie
“YOU DON’T HAVE ANY idea where it could be?” I ask Cate as we get into my car, which I parked on the street near the little row of shops where I pick her up.
“No clue. I swear, I think someone stole it while I was in the dressing room. Thanks for coming to get me. I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” She asks.
“No, I was just having lunch with Max. I ran into him before my run,” I reply.
“Why does that name sound familiar? And more importantly, why did you have a date and not tell me?” She asks, pursing her lips and backhanding my shoulder.
“It wasn’t a date—it was just Max. You know him, he tends bar at the place we were at the other night. I just ran into him. Besides, he’s engaged. Nothing happening there. He’s just… a nice guy, that’s all,” I say shaking my head.
A nice guy with a nice body, I think, remembering how incredibly hot he looked in his running gear.
“I feel like you’re only telling me half the story, but I know you’d never go out with someone who has a girlfriend after what small g did,” she shrugs.
If I’m being honest with myself, I do kind of like him. Max is not the kind of guy I typically go for. I like preppy, clean-cut guys. Max has a full, dark beard, and his hair is long on top, combed back straight. When he runs his hand through it, it flops to the side a little, making him look like an oversized kid. His eyes are the most gorgeous light brown color I’ve ever seen.
As tall as he is, six-foot-three or four at least, with the broad shoulders, the whole beard and long hair make him look like a lumberjack or an outdoorsman of some kind. Even though he’s not my typical type, I have always been really attracted to him.
He’s always been really sweet and fun when we’ve hung out at parties or run into each other. It has felt like there was definitely some chemistry there on his side, too. We always find ourselves flirting just a little, even though we’ve never been single at the same time.
Unfortunately, when we met he was single, and I was dating Brad. Now I’m single and he’s engaged to… what was her name? Audra? No, Aubrey. That’s it. Anyway, he is definitely off limits. Besides, I’m in no condition to be dating anyone seriously. I’m still too shell-shocked by the loss of Grant to a multilingual Olympian.
That train of thought brings me back to the problem at hand. The dating problem, that is. I downloaded the dating app… okay, let’s call it what it is—hookup app—at Cate and Chelsea’s urging.
I’d been chatting with a few guys over the past few days. One turned into a weirdo though, asking me to send videos of my feet. Hard pass. Then another sent me a dick pic. Um, no. The third guy, though, seems really decent, actually.
His name is Ladd, and he’s a banker who lives in the Northside neighborhood. Far enough away not to run into often if things go south, but still close enough to be convenient if things go well.
We don’t have a ton in common, but he is hot, and isn’t that the point? If I’m going to get off the hamster wheel of serial monogamy, and learn that dating can just be fun, as Chelsea puts it, I can’t look at every guy as potentially being the one.
I decide to ask Ladd if he’d be willing to meet me at the bar for a drink. Like Cate says, my creeper radar is off the hook, and if he is damaged goods, I’m sure I’ll be able to tell pretty quickly. Besides, if he turns out to be a loser or weirdo, I’ll just go to the bar and get help. If Max isn’t working, one of the other guys would look out for me, I’m sure of it. Cool guy, or angel shot. Either way, I’ll be in good shape.
I open the app and flip to the messaging area. I find my conversation with Ladd and send the message. Tomorrow night, The Briarwood, 7pm? The screen blinks then the message appears. I’ll be there. Can’t wait.
And, just like that, I have entered the modern age of digital dating. Search for guy, six feet tall, broad shoulders, cute smile. Add to cart.
Many shoppers who shopped for guy, six feet tall, also search for strings attached. Add to cart?
No thanks.
Many shoppers who shopped for guy, six feet tall, also search for orgasms. Add to cart?
Yes, please. Add quantity. Plus, plus, plus. Click to purchase.
When my phone dings again, I think it might be Ladd sending another PM. Instead, it’s a text from Max, checking on me. It’s really sweet of him. On the other hand, he seemed pretty flirty when we were at lunch, though I wasn’t about to tell Cate that part of the story. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
I mean, he is engaged or living with his girlfriend, at least. I can’t remember which. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to cheat…but then, neither did Grant. Still, hadn’t we always flirted a little? Besides, nothing had ever happened.
We exchange a few text messages.
ME: im happy 2 let u buy when i kick ur ass AGAIN next time
MAX: u will be watching my ass from ur view in last place
ME: i bet u were watching my ass today when i beat u
MAX: i m exercising the 5th amendment
ME: u dropping legal knowledge on me now?
MAX: im full of surprises
ME: i bet
MAX: u don’t know the half of it cheese
ME: its late. besides ur fiancée wouldnt like u texting strange women
MAX: trust me its not an issue
MAX: & u r not that strange
ME: not an issue?
MAX: long story
ME: one of these days u r going 2 tell me these long stories of urs
MAX: i wud tell u anything u want to know cheese
ME: goodnight max
MAX: night cheese
MAX: btw i ate the rest of ur ribs. they were awesome. u missed out
ME: i did
Of course, this guy is unavailable. Smart. Funny. Big, strong arms that you could curl up into on cozy winter nights. Shoulders that I bet would look fantastic with the back of my thighs resting on them. I bet he looks amazing cooking breakfast in nothing but a pair of shorts. Or, you know, nothing, full-stop.
Get your shit together, Brie. Stop plugging every guy into your picture of domestic bliss. Also, you need to get laid. Badly.
By the time Sunday evening rolls around, I am a nervous wreck. I waffle. Going. Not going. Absolutely, going! Definitely not going.
After I shower and put on my makeup, I take out my phone and look at the app again. I scan the photos Ladd has uploaded to his profile, then flip through our exchanges. Flirty, not dirty. Cute. Sort of funny. I look at the photo of him at the beach with what I presume have to be his brothers, wearing nothing but board shorts and shades. I draw in a deep breath and let out a sigh. Going.
• • •
I head down to the bar, arriving early. I walk to the far end of the bar, toward the back, where I can keep an eye on the door. There aren’t many people in the bar. It is a Sunday evening, after all. A bartender I don’t recognize puts down a napkin and tries to take my order.
“It’s pink, has vodka, and something yellow in it,” I explain. “In one of those short, round glasses.”
The bartender seems confused, and more than a little annoyed. Just then, Max walks back behind the bar, emerging from somewhere behind me. “I got it, Jay,” Max says. “It’s my specialty,” he says, winking at me.
He picks up the mixer and gives a generous pour of vodka, followed by some fruit juice, and gives the whole thing a shake. “So, you meeting the girls tonight, Cheese? Or am I the luckiest bartender in town…did you come in just for my mad mixing skills?” He looks at me from under his brows, the corners of his mouth pushing his thick beard up at the sides.
I grin involuntarily. The look reminds me of another conversation we had a couple of years before. One I had almost forgotten.
• • •
We were both at his buddy Tyler’s Halloween party. We were all pretty drunk, and Max and I were flirting pretty heavily. Max was wearing a t-shirt with a five-cent coin printed on the back. He made a comment about my costume. Pinstripe suit, pork pie hat, plastic machine gun, white, gossamer wings. “So, do I get three wishes for figuring it out?” He says, leaning in close.
“You think you’ve figured it out, but everyone else has been wrong tonight,” I smirk.
“If I get it right, do I at least get a dance? Your date is passed out on the lounge chairs over there. He won’t mind,” he says, lifting his chin to the direction of the chairs over by the pool, one of which had Brad draped across it, unconscious.
“One guess, one dance if you’re right,” I replied smugly. He took my hand in his and started walking toward the middle of the patio where everyone was dancing. “Not so fast! You didn’t even guess yet,” I say.
He turned to me, and stepped in close. Looking down at me, his face mere inches from mine. As I looked into those pale amber eyes of his, he said, “Not granting me my wish, huh? Not much of a fairy godfather, are you?” The corners of his mouth pushed his beard up at the corners in the sexiest smile I’d ever seen. I had never had it happen before, just from a man’s voice… his words, and it never has since, but looking up at him, I was instantly wet.
“I never would’ve guessed Nickelback would figure it out,” I grinned up at him.
The timing was perfect. When we started to dance, a ballad began to play. His hands were safely on my waist, mine chastely on his shoulders. The look in his eyes, though, as we silently swayed to the music, was smoldering. I’ve never wanted anyone as badly as I wanted him that night. Why couldn’t I have met him before Brad? As the music began to pick up into a faster tempo, Brad came stumbling over.
“Thanks for watching my girl, bro,” he said, patting Max on the shoulder. “Come on, babe. Let’s get outta here,” Brad said, grabbing me by the hand. I looked over my shoulder as we left the party. Max was staring at me as my eyes met his. His face held the same look I thought mine must have… regret.
I had forgotten all about the night at the party until that moment, when I saw Max’s sexy smirk.
• • •
“Cheese?” Max’s voice brings me back to the present.
“Hmm?” I look up at him.
“You okay?” he asks, chuckling.
“Oh, yeah. I was just deep in thought. I’m just… I’m meeting… someone,” I say, fiddling with my napkin as my eyes dart back and forth.
I notice a handsome, blonde-haired guy walking toward me. He’s taller than I expected, fit, and has a decidedly confident swagger. Definitely as good as his picture.
“I hope to God you’re Brie,” he says, looking me up and down as he leans on the bar beside me.
“I hope you’re Ladd,” I reply, putting out my hand for him to shake as I force myself to give him a nervous smile.
Ladd sits down in the chair beside me. “Hey bud, gimme a Corona, and another round for the lady,” he says to Max, who gives him a quick scan and a look I think is somewhere between irritation and disdain.
I learn that Ladd works at one of the large, national bank chains downtown, and is a lender in the business division. He graduated from Ohio State, and goes back to as many football games as he can during the season.
“So, yeah,” Ladd says. “After we lost my dad last year, I wanted to be closer—to help out my mom.” He gives a cute, if slightly cocky grin, as if he knows that being good to mom was likely to earn him brownie points.
I realize we’ve been talking for about an hour, and he hasn’t asked me anything about myself.
Not. One. Thing.
Still, he’s cute, and he’s the sort of guy that I would’ve definitely gone out with if friends had introduced us, or we’d met at a party.
Party. I look down the bar, and see Max keeping an eye in our direction as he cleans glassware. He’s seems to be looking out for me. He’s a good guy. I try to derail my own train of thought. Stop picturing how beautiful your children would be, you idiot. He’s engaged. Besides, no more serial monogamy, remember?
I’m on my third cocktail and mindlessly eyeing the television. It’s some sort of classical music performance, and the camera pans from a gorgeous, auburn-haired girl playing violin to the ridiculously hot blonde guy playing guitar on stage behind her. Ladd says something, and I snap my attention back to him.
“So, Brie, what do you say? Should we get out of here? Go talk someplace we can get to know each other a little better?” Ladd asks.
“I… I need to use the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back,” I say. As I step down from the barstool, I catch my foot and stumble a little, grabbing Ladd’s forearm to steady myself. “Sorry,” I say as I grip his muscular arm, my cheeks flushing.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, rubbing my hand with his palm, and flashing a smile that shows a single dimple in his cheek.
In the bathroom, I text Chelsea and Cate.
ME: ladd is cute. seems nice. what should i do?
Chelsea: him. do him.
Cate: go with ur gut babe
Chelsea: is he hot? whats the panty situation?
I send back emojis. Three water drops.
Cate: theres ur answer
Chelsea: agreed. do him. have fun. 1 & done.
I go back out to the bar and sit beside Ladd. As I pick up my drink, Max steps forward, putting his hand on top of it, and slamming it back onto the bar. He grabs my glass and tosses it in a nearby sink.
“What the hell, Max?” I ask. “I had half a drink left,” I say, annoyed.
“You got thirty seconds to get out of here on your own, dude. After that, you’re still leaving, but I’m gonna help you out.” He glares at Ladd, shoulders tensed, his big palms flat against the bar.
Ladd looks at Max, then looked back to me. “Come on, Brie, let’s get out of this shitty dive,” Ladd says.
“No way. She stays. You go,” Max replies, sneering as he leans further forward across the bar, closing in on Ladd.
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask.
“You wanna tell her about the little addition you made to her cocktail, asswipe?” Max glares at Ladd.
“Dude, you’re nuts. I don’t need any help getting a girl,” Ladd shakes his head as he steps down from the bar stool.
“You know what,” he says, looking at me, “I don’t know what sort of fucked up game you two are playing, but you can count me out.” Ladd storms out of the bar.
