Page 98 of Only With Me

“Send them one emoji—completely random, it doesn’t have to be anything specific—and see how they respond. If they play along and send one back, they’re worth talkin’ to. If they reply with something snarky or rude, block. No more wastin’ your time.”

I figured I had nothing to lose at this point. Almost every guy I’ve started a conversation with ended in ghosting me or I blocked them for being a creep.

So when Emery responded to my prompt, I replied with a duck emoji.

He responded with a goose.

Then, I sent a turtle.

He replied with a fish.

But then, I sent an eagle with a fish.

Finally, he broke the emoji battle and said I’d won because my eagle ate his fish.

I found it humorous enough to give him thirty minutes of my time to chat. The following day, another thirty minutes. And then yesterday, he asked to meet in person.

Since I’ll only go to public places, I suggested The Grindhouse. It’s the one place in Sugarland Creek that won’t put on a lot of pressure to sit through a whole meal. If things go well, maybe he’ll ask me out for a second date. Until then, meeting over coffee will do.

Admittedly, I’m not overly excited about it. Mostly because I don’t know that much about him. However, he seems cool enough and looks cute in his photos to at least give him a chance. Even if we’re not compatible, it’ll be nice to get experience to find out what is or isn’t my type.

Harlow: I have my session with Noah at three. You wanna come watch?

I only had one last week with the holiday, but went out on my day’s off to ride Piper. The weather has been in the forties and fifties, and even dropping to the thirties at night, but if I don’t get out of my house when I’m not working, I’ll go stir crazy. My seasonal depressional comes out in full force and although it’s been better than when I was diagnosed with it years ago, I know I need to keep myself busy during the winter so I don’t become a hermit in my bed.

However, Moose very much enjoys it when I do.

Waylon: We start getting the trail horses ready for the afternoon tour around 3:30, but if I can, I’ll swing by for a few.

Harlow: Okay, cool. When are you bringing Bentley to the ranch again?

Waylon: Saturday afternoon. Why?

Harlow: Thought it might be cool to hang out with him again. Maybe the three of us can go riding.

Waylon: He’s a little young for you, don’t you think?

Harlow: Very funny, you sicko. I thought he’d enjoy riding up the mountains, especially with the snowcaps. It’d be a beautiful view.

Waylon: I’m sure he would. I’ll ask him.

Harlow: Just don’t let me fall on my ass again. I bruise easily as it is.

Waylon: I won’t.

Harlow: Okay, I’m off to work for a few hours. Then I gotta find a cute outfit for Friday. If he’s on the shorter side, should I wear flats instead of heels?

Waylon: Uhh…how short are we talking?

Harlow: His profile says he’s 5’9, but Natalie says guys always lie about their height on dating apps, so he could be shorter.

Considering I’m five-foot-seven, I don’t want to make him uncomfortable if he doesn’t like girls being taller than him. Waylon’s a good six or seven inches taller than me, so he probably doesn’t care either way if girls wear flats or heels.

Waylon: No, I’d definitely wear heels. The taller the better. Short guys like that.

I contemplate asking if he’s lying, but he’s been nothing but honest with me, especially when it comes to sex stuff and dating. So I take his word for it.

Harlow: Okay, perfect because the boutique got in the cutest ankle boots but they have a five-inch heel.