8. Ashley
EIGHT
ASHLEY
My first date as Miss Midtown turns out to be fun.
Well, as fun as it can be considering I end up hanging two stories above the ground.
But the instructor is helpful, and Brock doesn’t laugh at me when I have a momentary panic.
We go for appetizers afterward and get to know each other.
He’s average height and fit, and I can’t say I didn’t ogle his butt while he was climbing, though I’m not a huge fan of his man bun.
I don’t feel like there’s a lot of chemistry; our kiss at the end of the night is solidly average, but I’d be willing to give him another go.
Maybe there’s something to be said for playing the field with no expectations.
On Friday, I meet a guy named Alec in the east end for indoor mini golf.
The commitment to regular dates is forcing me to be more creative—my liver can’t handle going to bars every other night.
Alec and I have a very competitive round of miniature golf followed by drinks, with me opting for club soda since I’m running the next morning.
He’s broad shouldered with sexy stubble, and when he runs his hand up my leg in the booth, I get shivers.
“Can I come over?” he whispers in my ear, taking a pause from kissing the side of my neck.
I weigh my options. As a rule, I don’t love having men in my space unless I know them, plus I’d have to kick him out since I’ve got an early morning run. I made an exception for Sebastian, but we’re old friends. Anyway, that wasn’t exactly me acting with great judgment.
“Can’t we go to your place. I’m across town and I have an early morning.”
“I’d rather yours.”
My face heats up in annoyance. Yes, he’s hot, but you don’t get to invite yourself into my home. I’m a single woman and I live alone, and that puts me in a risky position when it comes to men I don’t know well.
I pull away. “Sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable with that.”
He looks down at his hands. “The thing is, I live with my parents. That is, my parents and I live together.”
Well, that puts a damper on things. I guess this isn’t happening tonight. But I don’t want to come across as judgmental. I know lots of people have to live in less-than-ideal arrangements.
I take his hand. “No worries. We can take a rain check, then. I have friends who had to move back home after job situations or divorce or whatever.”
He looks confused. “Oh, it’s not like that. I just like living with my parents. I’ve never bothered to move out.”
Never? He’s almost forty. Maybe it’s a cultural thing, but I’m curious. “Don’t you want your own space sometimes?”
“Well, sure, it can be a pain living down the hall from my mother and father, but it has its benefits. I never have to cook or clean, for example.”
He grins broadly like this is a genius move, not a decision that makes him look like a man-child. My brain is imploding, but I can’t help but ask, “What about girlfriends?”
“I always go to their place. If there’s anyone serious, she can move in with me and Mom and Dad. Our apartment’s pretty spacious. She can split the cooking with my mom.”
Well, there goes the last of my libido. I’m tempted to ask how that’s working for him, but it’s not like my love life is flourishing. Since I don’t want to have him over now, and I definitely don’t want to share homemaking tasks with his mom, this date is very much over.
“You know what, it’s been fun, but I’m going to get a car home now.” I kiss him lightly on the cheek as I stand up.
“Yeah, I figured.” He shrugs, then lets me walk away. I catch him giving the bartender a flirtatious glance as I’m leaving. Maybe he’ll have better luck there and she won’t ask too many questions.
I relay the whole situation to Laurel and Stevie in the car ride home. I can almost hear their laughter through the ether.
Stevie:
O. M. G. Dodged a bullet.
Laurel:
That’s a hard no. My mom and I would kill each other.
Stevie:
Does anyone like their parents enough for that? I sure don’t.
Laurel:
So you’re saying you don’t want Ethan and his future girlfriend to live with you until he’s forty?
Stevie:
Kill me now.
I love my mom, but the idea of living with her and bringing a man home while she’s one wall away makes me shudder.
What is my life, honestly?
Laurel:
At least you’ll have good stories for the Instagram account!
Stevie:
I bet climbing dude sounds great now.
For real.
Stevie:
Maybe he’s still free. You could climb him.
Stevie has the dirtiest mind of all my friends, and I’m not sure if it’s a gift or a curse.
Laurel:
Anyway, change of topic. What are you guys up to this weekend? Want to have lunch or dinner? I have some news.
Stevie:
Laurel:
And no, I’m not pregnant.
Stevie:
Uh-huh…
News … Given the bed shopping last week, I assume Cal is moving in with her.
That would make the most sense; he hardly ever sleeps at his own place.
I suddenly feel nostalgic about Laurel’s one bedroom apartment, which is stupid because she still lives there.
It’s been a second home for me since we’ve been friends.
I even slept on her fold-out couch for a few weeks during the pandemic lockdown when we were both lonely on our own.
It’s weird to think I won’t be able to spontaneously show up and crash there, although it’s not something I do regularly.
I shouldn’t be so selfish, focused on myself, but somehow the idea of them moving in together reminds me how I’m still on my own.
But I’m jumping the gun. Maybe she’s getting another cat, or she got a new job.
I could do tomorrow or Sunday. I’m supposed to meet Sebastian at some point, but I’m flexible.
Laurel:
Sebastian???
Stevie:
Here comes the third degree.
To talk shop.
Laurel:
Suuuuuuuuure.
Stevie:
Is that what the kids are calling it these days?
Laurel:
Let me know a time and I’ll have you over.
We settle on lunch tomorrow just as I’m getting to my place. I ride up in the elevator feeling disappointed that my promising date turned into a dud. Am I too choosy? Should I settle, already?
I kick off my shoes at the door and grumble as I set my running jacket and shoes out for tomorrow morning.
Last year at this time I was in the best shape of my life and hunkering down to train hard for a race that I ended up acing.
I felt like I was about to level up in life.
Now I’m treading water in terms of fitness but really in most aspects of my life.
Laurel has some kind of exciting news, my sister is so happily married that she can’t bother chatting for more than two minutes, and here I am, wondering if I’m too selective because I turned down the chance to sleep with a guy whose mom does his laundry.
As I brush my teeth, I can’t shake the feeling that everything is changing and I’m left behind.
After I crawl into bed, I shoot Sebastian a text, even though he’s probably off on a date.
Oof, bad date tonight.
Sebastian:
Oh Lord, please tell me it’s not another dick pic.
No, but I’m glad you understand the trauma now.
Call me and tell me all about your horror story.
You aren’t out wining and dining some lucky lady?
Not tonight. Had a wild night yesterday and I’m exhausted.
Of course he did. I hesitate because it’s late, but dial his number anyway.
Then I lean back on the pillows and tell him all about Alec and his poor, long-suffering parents.
Or should I say his long-suffering future girlfriend?
Sebastian laughs way too hard at my misery, and we stay up past our bedtime.
When I arrive at Laurel’s early with a package of gourmet cookies, she’s chopping up tomatoes for a salad while quiche bakes in the oven.
I’m not sure she’s ever made a quiche in her life considering she’s never been much of a cook.
Usually, her cookbooks are for display purposes only, so I’m curious about this domestic turn.
“Can I help?”
“Oh, thanks, if you can cut up the cucumbers, that would be great,” she says, putting the tomatoes aside and moving to clear the table, which is covered in a stack of papers.
“I was going to chop some veggies last night to prep, but I got distracted.” She bites her lip, and her sheepish expression makes me snicker.
I’m sure I know what kind of distraction was involved if Cal was over.
“No worries, I’m early.” I wash my hands and grab the knife, glancing around the kitchen. “So, Cal’s not here?”
“No, I wanted a ladies’ lunch. It’s so hard to find time for just the group of us to hang out these days.” She sounds almost wistful, and I bite back my first thought that she’s the one who’s busy with Cal all the time. “Oh, I invited Tess too. We were chatting after the run today.”
“Of course.” I’m relieved it’s just the girls. I miss our regular evenings together. “Tess will get to grill me some more about my date.”
Laurel snickers. “Jason and Victor sure had fun with that.”
That’s putting it mildly. I thought Victor would break a rib laughing, while Jason shook his head and muttered, “‘I never have to clean’ is not what you tell a woman you want to sleep with. He said the quiet part out loud.”
“I think we scarred Mark,” I admit. He and his wife have teenagers, and he’s been out of the dating pool for two decades.
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.”
Laurel isn’t wrong. He should be used to our frank conversations by now.
“Did you find a time to meet with Sebastian?” Laurel asks once we’ve stopped giggling.
“He’s coming over tomorrow afternoon to talk about the unsolicited photo situation. You saw my email.”
I blind copied her; she was very impressed but declined to look at the attachments.
Laurel turns and gives me a penetrating look, and I can read her thoughts clearly. I can’t say why I thought it was a good idea to invite him over only a few weeks after we hooked up, but we can be professional, can’t we?
I shrug. “I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t want to always be meeting in restaurants. With all this extra dating, I need more time at home.”
“I didn’t say anything!”