Page 29 of Accidental Blind Date

“Fair enough. You think you’ll see her again?”

See her again. I almost laugh at that. “It wasn’t implied, no.”

“So, the sex was bad.”

I grit my teeth. “The sex was good. Great actually.”

“Fantastic. Proud of you. So why aren’t you going to see her again? If the girl was okay with a one and done, she’s obviously not looking for anything serious either. It’s not out of the ordinary in today’s day and age to have fuck buddies. Someone you see once in a while, buy her dinner or drinks, fuck and call it a night. Women are evolving in that department and I gotta be honest, I don’t hate it.”

“It was a onetime thing,” I state, and Kai studies me. I stare back and he finally drops it.

Then he yanks the conversational wheel hard to the left. “Good. Because I’ve clocked two birds across the way who haven’t stopped staring at us. I even sent them a couple drinks when you were in la-la land. And from the way the one on the left is licking her lips, I’m thinking it’s go-time.”

“I’m not interested.”

“So, which one do you want? I am partial to the redhead myself. She looks like she’d be more fun. The one with the dark hair and the RBF seems like she’d be into some kinky ass shit in the bedroom, which could also be fun depending on your mood and your tolerance for masochism. Which one sounds better to you?”

“Neither.”

“You know, now that I say that, a little whips and chains could be a good time. But I’m going to need another drink. You’re cool with that right?”

I don’t even say anything. I stand up, wipe my mouth with the napkin, toss it on my empty plate, and down the last third of my beer.

“Where are you going?” he asks as if he is deaf.

“Home.”

“But what about the redhead?”

I glance over at the girls then back at my friend. “You said it yourself, buddy. You can handle two at the same time.”

With that, I turn and walk out.

I love my friend. I do. Under all that idiocy is a smart businessman and a half decent guy. But the night air is so inviting that I simply stop and revel in it for a moment, taking back my sanity and clearing my brain. That is, until something catches my attention across the street.

“What on earth…?”

Chapter 8

Libby

“BINGO!”

Joni shouts from our little table at the Green Cup. It’s a cute little spot near Beacon Street that serves coffee in the mornings, wine in the evenings and has the humidity of Costa Rica because they sell plants year-round. Apparently wine bar slash plant stores are a new thing Joni found on social media, and they are now her favorite things. Joni loves wine. She’s also got a green thumb.

“I love these places!” she grins as she dances back to the table. “Look! I won a succulent. I think I’m going to name him George.”

“I thought your last succulent’s name was George.”

“That was Jorge. Big difference. Also, the dog may or may not have eaten him.”

“Banjo eats houseplants?” I ask.

Joni plops back down in her seat and reaches for her wine glass. “Banjo is a Great Dane. He eats everything.”

Normally this would make me laugh. But tonight, my mind is elsewhere. That elsewhere being my shop, which, unfortunately, is occupied by the newest bane of my existence.

“You seem down. What’s up?” Joni asks and laughs. “Down. Up. I’m funny. But for real girl, you’ve hardly touched your wine and it’s girls night. I am child free! That includes my own kids, the kids in my classroom. All of it. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. You look great by the way. Yellow doesn’t work for a lot of people.”