Page 13 of 28 Dates

And my game plan moving forward is now firmly set in place.

I’m hoping through all of this she’ll find a bunch of guys she won’t consider giving the time of day to, maybe a few who interest her, but through all of it, my plan is to slowly get her to loosen her walls around me through the messaging feature. And eventually, she’ll realize what she should have said yes to six months ago.

Chapter 5

Caitlin

I’m late, but in my defense, it’s all Trey’s fault. He called me as I was getting ready to leave for my first date via PerfectMatch, reminding me to be safe.

I’d rolled my eyes and laughed. “It’s sandwiches and soup. How dangerous can this be?” Needless to say, when I decide to jump into something, I dive in headfirst.

It’s only been a few days since I received my first set of matches, and out of the sixty-five men who match, there are a few who actually interest me. After a few messages back and forth, short conversations with all of them, I’m meeting the first guy for lunch at the Bistro du Jour. It’s a trendy hipster breakfast and lunch café that isn’t the least bit French. But whatever. I’m in the mood for their curried lentil and cauliflower soup to keep me warm.

Butterflies swarm my stomach and have since I woke up this morning. It’s only been a few days, and yet there’s the possibility of excitement strumming through me. Worst-case scenario, I end up alone. But I already am most of the time, so, really, the worst-case scenario is my life staying exactly the same.

Best case? Well, let’s just say I’m playing by my own rules for the next thirty days. Trey might intend this app to be focused on long-term relationships, but frankly, I’m just looking for a guy who makes my knees weak and my pulse thrum in thathey,let’s spend the entire nighttogether not sleepingsort of way.

The guy I’m about to meet, Brett, is at least a step in the right direction. I’ve done a lot of thinking since hurtling out of Dirty Martini’s once Jonas heard about the app. A bottle of wine later that night, screaming at the football game, and I’ve come to one very bad conclusion.

I haven’t been able to be with another guy, because I’m not completely over Jonas. And that really bites, because he’s made it clear he’s moved on. Although he walked out of my apartment, maybe bummed I didn’t want to date him six months ago, he hasn’t let that slow him down one teeny-tiny bit. And I don’t even want to spend a single second considering the weekend he has planned for Ashley in a few days.

So why have I still been letting belly flutters occur when he’s near? It’s a waste of time. Brett, the finance guy I’m about to meet during his lunch break, might just be the guy who breaks my streak, and I am ready.

One hundred percent ready to put Jonas in my rearview and in my history of completed friends-with-benefits, and move. On.

Yup. I’m totally doing this.

I pull open the door to Bistro du Jour and scan the small restaurant. Light maple-wood tables and chairs line both walls. There’s a small bar on my right that runs the length of the café with stools attached to the floor in front.

It’s not a small space, but even then I find Brett. With floppy blond hair flipped to one side and a build that’s just on the thinner side of what I prefer, he’s already standing from his chair, brows raised in that questioning way. How he can wonder if it’s me from my profile pic, I have no clue.

My red hair is a pretty dead giveaway. Still, I untangle my scarf as I head in his direction near the back wall. The butterflies from earlier kick it up a notch. He’s cute, in that way where if he has a good personality, he’ll be even more attractive, but he’s not panty-dropping sexy.

His casual attire of jeans and a slightly wrinkled navy-blue Henley makes me pause. Is he on his lunch break as well? Finance jobs typically don’t have such casual dress codes, do they?

“Brett?” I ask as I reach him. My hand is already extended, and he takes it. His fingers are clammy and warm, and I try to pull mine back, but he holds mine tighter.

“Caitlin.” I shiver at the way he says my name. Or perhaps it’s the way his eyes dip and fall, scanning my body and lingering too long on my stomach before dropping further. To my feet.

Um. “Hi.” I tug on my hand again, and he lets go.

“You’re prettier in person.”

Oh. Well, that’s nice. “Thank you.”

He gestures for me to sit, and I slide into the chair across from him. As I sit, I wipe my hand on my coat. Perhaps it’s nerves making his hand sweat.

“Really, you’re very beautiful. My mom said you would be.”

Um. “Your mom?” I ask. I straighten my silverware while trying not to cringe. “She knows we’re meeting today?”

He nods. Enthusiastically. Too much so. The potential for him to become more attractive drops. “Well, yes. Of course I showed her your photo. I mean, she was there when I was messaging you.”

This has the potential to take a downward spiral quickly. “Oh. You must be close then.”

“We are, I mean, considering she’s my roommate and all.”

And…there’s the spiral. The waiter comes at the perfect moment and fills my glass with ice water. “Welcome to Bistro du Jour. May I get you something to drink? Or are you ready to order?”

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