Chapter 7
Gray
I scroll back up to the top of my text conversation with Ash and reread it, second guessing everything I wrote.
I was surprised to get his invitation to meet the team, and I had to powwow with Celena before answering.
A voice in my head told me that, for a pro athlete, meeting his team is akin to meeting his parents, so Celena and I spent almost twenty minutes vastly overanalyzing the implications.
I look at the messages one more time and decide I played it cool enough.
Hopefully I didn’t give Ash the wrong impression.
I was aiming for politely interested but not eager.
Of course, then I insisted on getting personal with him by teasing him about his homework and asking about his childhood dreams.
Jesus, Gray. Thirsty much?
I also overplayed the ‘I’m a busy person’ card. Yes, I’m still grading, and I should look over my lesson plan for Monday before bed, but the research proposal will have to wait for Saturday, as will looking into anger interventions.
I was also carrying on two other text conversations at the time. One was with Celena and one was with ManOfYourDreams89 from that InSync dating app Celena signed me up for.
I assume the username is tongue-in-cheek. Or at least I hope it is. The guy seems normal enough, if nothing exciting. But normal is a good start.
He and I both selected “Down to have dinner” because I got a notification earlier today that we matched.
He sent me a message a couple hours ago, but I only had time to answer just before Ash texted.
At one point I was juggling conversations with ManOfYourDreams89 as well as Celena and Ash and praying I didn’t mix them up.
I also need to message back ShadowDaddy55, who I’m guessing is a reader, so at least he has that going for him.
My phone pings.
Celena
Where did you leave it with Ash?
Gray
We’ll discuss the details of meeting the team on Sunday.
Gray
And he’s still salty he never got to ride a T-Rex.
There’s a long pause before Celena sends a GIF of someone looking completely confused.
Gray
He wanted to be a dinosaur trainer when he was a kid.
There’s a pause before the dots bounce.
Celena
Did he volunteer that info or did you ask?
I sheepishly type out my answer.
Gray
…I asked.
I practically feel Celena’s judgement in the dancing dots.
Celena
Oh honey. You didn’t.
Gray
I did and I’m not sorry.
Celena sends a laughing emoji.
Celena
You’re supposed to be flirting with the dude from InSync, not your hockey player.
Gray
I’m meeting that guy for dinner on Sunday before I go to Ash’s. That way if the date is bad, I have an excuse to leave.
Celena
{{Eyeroll emoji}} Glad to see you’re giving him a chance.
Gray
Sorry. Just having a hard time feeling excited about all this. I’m starting to remember how much I hate online dating.
Celena
Would you rather go to a bar and pick up drunk guys?
Gray
The last romance novel I read involved a woman falling in love with her stalker. Why is that not an option?
Celena
Because in real life we call that a ‘red flag’ sweety.
Gray
Whatever.
The InSync app on my phone dings with a message notification, and I switch over to it.
ManOfYourDreams89
Looking forward to seeing you on Sunday. What’s your address?
I frown.
Gray
Why do you need my address?
There’s a short pause before his answer comes through.
ManOfYourDreams89
So I can pick you up.
Oh hell no.
Gray
I’ll just meet you at the restaurant.
A longer pause.
ManOfYourDreams89
A gentleman should pick a lady up.
Um, no. I switch over to my message chain with Celena.
Gray
InSync guy is saying he should pick me up because ‘A gentleman should pick a lady up.’
Celena sends a GIF of a woman reacting in horror.
Celena
Seriously? Was he born in the 50s?
Gray
I feel like this is more of a red flag than the stalker thing. I’m canceling.
Celena
Don’t overreact. Just tell him no.
Gray
I did. He’s trying to insist.
Celena
Tell him again.
I switch over to the app and respond to ManOfYourDreams89.
Gray
I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to drive myself.
If he doesn’t take the hint this time, I’m canceling, no matter what Celena says.
Seconds pass before his answer comes through.
ManOfYourDreams89
Okay. See you there.
I let out a long breath. Part of me was hoping he’d insist so I had an excuse to get out of this.
The other part of me feels bad about my piss-poor attitude.
It’s hard enough to make connections online as it is, but what hope is there when I’m already expecting – even hoping – for that connection to fail?
I resolve to give ManOfYourDreams89 a chance.
Gray
Two days later, whatever shred of optimism I had about my date tonight with ManOfYourDreams89 – or Barry, as I learned his name is – has fled entirely.
To make matters worse, I slept wrong last night and woke up with pain shooting down the side of my neck. It hasn’t helped that I spent the day hunched over my computer, first to work on my research proposal, then to look up anger interventions for Ash.
I turn to unbuckle myself in the car and immediately regret the motion as my neck and shoulder twinge painfully. I rub the area, but that hasn’t helped all day, and it doesn’t do anything now either.
I get out of my car and head into the restaurant.
I still feel like I should’ve called the date off when Barry tried to insist on picking me up, but part of me is still hoping things might work out with him so that I don’t shamelessly drool over Ash later tonight.
I convinced myself Barry genuinely thought he was being nice by offering to pick me up and that he wasn’t actually an axe murderer who wanted to know where I lived so he could hack me to death in my sleep.
Some men don’t understand the things women need to consider when online dating.
For instance, one of my male friends complained that women he met online never wanted to do anything fun on a first date.
It was always dinner or coffee. He was an athletic and outdoorsy guy, tall and husky, but an absolute teddy bear, and he asked me in frustration once why women would never agree to go on a hike with him on a first date.
I told him it was because no woman in her right mind would ever walk into the woods alone with a man she just met. That stopped him short, and all he could say was, “Oh. Right.”
I walk into the lobby of the restaurant, and a man stands to greet me.
My heart drops. He’s easily ten years older than his profile picture suggests, and while I don’t mind an older man, his boy-next-door quality has suddenly turned to ‘I still live in my parents’ basement’ vibes.
“Barry?” I ask tentatively, holding one last thread of hope I’m mistaken about this being my date.
The man smiles widely. “Gray. It’s wonderful to meet you.”
I hold out my hand to shake his, but he takes it and kisses it. I force myself not to yank it back out of surprise. Sweet lord, this is going to be a long date.
We check in with the hostess, and she shows us to a table. Thankfully it’s a booth, because I’m pretty sure this guy would try to pull out my chair for me if it was a table.
Okay, maybe I’m being a bitch about this.
There are still certain niceties I appreciate from a man, like holding a door open for me.
Pulling out a chair wouldn’t be so bad, but this guy’s insistence on trying to pick me up tainted his behavior for me, and I can’t help seeing him as too old fashioned now.
I look at the menu the hostess leaves. The wine list is at the front, and they have one of my go-tos.
“So you’re a teacher?” Barry asks. “What grade?”
I look up and see he’s got his menu closed and is looking raptly at me.
“College actually,” I say. “Technically I’m a professor.”
His face falls, which I’m used to by now, but it still makes me angry.
“Sorry, I guess we were both a little inaccurate in our profiles,” I say.
He cocks his head in confusion. “What do you mean? Where was I inaccurate?”
I blink at him. “I…It just looks like the profile photo you used might be a few years old,” I say, although ‘a few years’ is generous.
He shrugs. “Yeah, a few, I guess. But I look pretty much the same, don’t I?”
I sigh inwardly. “More or less.”
He brightens. “So a professor then. What do you teach?”
“Communication,” I say. He still hasn’t opened his menu, and I point to it. “Do you already know what you want?”
“I usually just order what my date is having,” he says.
I stare at him for several seconds before angling my head in question. Then I wince and grab my neck as it twinges. Barry doesn’t seem to notice.
“Can I ask why?”
“To be polite,” he says.
I’m stunned into silence again. For the life of me I can’t conceive of why eating the same thing as your date would be polite. I understand avoiding especially pungent or garlicky food, especially if you’re hoping for a kiss later, but ordering the exact same thing as your date?
“Please, feel free to order whatever you want,” I say. “I’d prefer you order something you like instead of what I like.”
He looks uncertain for a moment but finally smiles sheepishly and opens the menu.
Gray
An hour later, I’ve barely managed to make it through dinner. I was afraid Barry might be a serial killer – and maybe he still is – but it’s more likely he’s just a sweet, socially awkward man who’s probably still a virgin and is desperate to do what it takes to please a woman.
The problem is that I’m already a teacher by day. I don’t have the time or energy to instruct a man on what I want or need after hours as well. I want someone who knows what he wants and is willing to take the initiative to learn what I want on his own.
Barry walks me all the way to my car and hovers near the door as I get in. I assume he’s hoping for a kiss, but it’s not happening.
“I had a great time,” he says. “Maybe I can pick you up next time.”
Fucking hell. I can’t believe he’s still on that. For that matter, I can’t believe he thought this was a good date. The conversation was stilted at best, and I didn’t feel any connection whatsoever. Not that I plan to tell him that now.
“We’ll see,” I say. “Good night.”
He doesn’t move, and I can’t close the door without hitting him.
“I’m sorry, I really have to get going,” I say. “I still have a lot to grade before class tomorrow.”
His smile falters, but he nods and steps back. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll text you.”
“Sure,” I say with a smile as I close the door. My neck twinges from the motion, and I rub it as I start the car.
I back up and drive out of the parking lot as quickly as I dare, keeping an eye on Barry in the rearview mirror while he heads to his own car. As soon as I turn out of the parking lot, I call Celena.
“Date over already?” she asks, her voice coming through the speakers.
“I’m surprised it lasted as long as it did,” I say. “It was awful.”
There’s a pause. “Okay, I’m just going to ask, and I’ll believe whatever you say,” Celena says. “Did you at least give him a chance? You weren’t exactly excited to go on this date earlier.”
“And I still wasn’t right up until I got to the restaurant, but C, the date was objectively bad,” I say before filling her in on the discrepancy with his picture, his belief it was polite to eat whatever I was eating, and the several other odd things Barry said and did throughout the meal.
There’s silence on the other end of the line when I’m done.
“Shit,” Celena says finally. “That is bad. Did he at least pay for dinner?”
“I insisted on paying for my own,” I say. “There’s absolutely no way I’m going out with him again, so I didn’t want to feel obligated to him in any way.” I pause. “Actually, I expected him to argue with me about that given his insistence on trying to pick me up, but he didn’t.”
“What does he do for a living again?” she asks.
“I don’t think his profile said, and I forgot to ask.”
“At least you get to go see Ash now,” Celena says. “That should make the rest of the evening better, no?”
“Are you serious? I just had a horrible date, my neck hurts, and I have to go stare at a gorgeous athlete all night that I have no hope of dating.”
“What makes you think you have no hope of dating him?”
I wish she could see how hard I roll my eyes at that question.
“His last girlfriend was an actress,” I say. “You do the math.”
“Whatever,” Celena says. “One of these days you’ll stop selling yourself short in the looks department.”
“I’m not,” I say. “I’m pretty, but let’s be real.
I’m not date-a-hockey-star pretty. Besides, it’s not just about looks.
It’s a classic case of jocks don’t fall for nerds.
We have nothing in common. I plan my vacations around academic conferences.
He travels around North America in a cloud of testosterone and spends his nights surrounded by puck bunnies. ”
“I’m hanging up on you now,” Celena warns. A pause. “Wait, I thought you weren’t meeting Ash until eight o’clock.”
I sigh heavily. “I’m not. I have to go kill half an hour before I can head over to his place.”
“Text him to see if you can come early,” she suggests.
Part of me wants to cancel with Ash altogether. The date with Barry drained me, and I’m not feeling up to this tonight, but I made a commitment, and I plan to see it through.
“Alright, I’ll text him,” I say. “But if he says no, then I’m stopping somewhere to get a drink.”
“Are you okay?” Celena asks me.
“I’m just really tired and frustrated right now,” I say. “I want to date again, but I forgot how much mental and emotional work it is.”
“I know, hon,” Celena says gently. “Hang in there. It will get better.”
“Thanks. Good night.”
“Good night. Text me tomorrow about how things go with Ash.”
“Will do.”