Page 32 of 28 Dates

And then there’s Logan. Nice. Handsome. Hot, actually. And I like talking to him.

But that’s all I feel. Like. Nice. No spark. No excitement when he texts me good morning. No real smile or inside flutter when he asks about my day. We’ve been talking for a week. Here and there, sometimes for hours, but none of our messages back and forth have felt like an interview…just a text with a friend. I’m not on this app to find a friend.

I don’t even know why I’m on the app at all anymore. I’ve been a mess since Monday after Jonas left. I haven’t even been able to bring out my battery-operated friend for fear of only being able to orgasm thinking of Jonas. He hasn’t texted me since, and I haven’t stopped into Dirty’s all week.

I’m in full avoidance mode, but I have to get over that. If Logan wants to meet for drinks, there’s only one place I feel comfortable going.

I press the heels of my palms into my closed eyes and groan. “And you’ll never know if there can be more unless you reply, you idiot.”

I’m being stupid and ridiculous. I’ve promised myself I would try to let someone in. Logan comes across as the kind of guy who would not only welcome it, but wants it. Wantsme.

I text him back, already knowing he lives on the west side of Portland but hopefully close enough to downtown.

Caitlin:Dirty Martini’s? 7 p.m.?

Logan:See you then. Can’t wait to meet you, pretty girl.

He responds almost immediately, and that does make me smile. Was he waiting for me? I got his message an hour ago and have looked at it thirty times. Plus, who doesn’t like being called pretty?

I send him back a smiling emoji.

Then I whip off a quick text to Teagan.Seeing the cute guy tomorrow. Cross your fingers.

I’ve told her all about him. She thinks he’s cute and sweet. I agree.

But am I looking for cute and sweet? Ugh. Dating sucks.

I’m in the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of red wine, when my phone dings from the living room. I assume it’s a message from Teagan, so I hurry back to the room, grab my phone, and soon, a goofy smile is stretching my cheeks.

Grapes explode in the microwave. Note: Do not test this theory. It’s also messy.

Michael. The mysterious guy. He’s either a serial-killing creep or someone I have to meet. He texts me nothing important, avoids questions, even avoids making it too personal toward me, and yet every message makes me laugh, dying to learn more.

Perhaps he’s playing the long game.

Either way, I’m interested.

Caitlin:Trying to make homemade wine?

Michael:A girl I like once told me she prefers martinis to wine but wine is her go-to at home.

I said that last Saturday when he sent me a simple question.What are you doing? Fun weekend plans?

My response was lame.Netflix and chillin’ alone. Glass of wine nearby. Getting old is exhausting.

That had devolved into asking whether I preferred partying or lounging around at night. I told him the lounging comes after the partying. He didn’t use the opener about getting old to ask about my age, even if it is in the profile. He did tell me he works late, starts his days late, but wishes he had more time to lounge around.

Which means he’s busy. Active. I’ve seen no more photos of him other than that profile picture showing only his shadowed back.

Caitlin:I’m not sure that girl meant drinking homemade wine.

Michael:Damn. Knew I should have learned to read way back when.

I’m tempted, oh so tempted to ask when that would have been, but I’m learning with him. I ask him a personal question, and he avoids. It should be a red flag. For whatever reason, it only has me more curious. My fingers itch to type out asking to see him, even though I already have one date planned for the week, but I hesitate. Without saying anything, he’s already made it clear he’ll move at his own pace. The question is, will I wait around for him?

Michael:Busy tonight?

It’s only Wednesday, but I’m already worn out. Emotionally, I never would have thought even something like online dating would be difficult. I tell myself I’m doing this for Trey, but in a way, it’s been fun even if most of the guys who message me use cheesy pickup lines and lose my interest before they have it. But I can tell from the few conversations I’ve had with some of them, the creepy creepy guy aside, that what Trey has done is brilliant.

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