Page 23 of Dash

Anemone was right. He was safe. He couldn’t have been any more benign if he tried. There wasn’t anything that jumped out at her on his page. Maybe that should have been a red flag? Okay, now that was absurd. Don’t manifest red flags when they aren’t there. Seriously, they will show up. People can’t hide crazy for too long.

Once again, she opened their conversation thread and perused the highlights. Recently divorced. Two kids. Active in the community for the past ten years. His ex-wife wasn’t into it, and that was the major reason they divorced. They get along and share custody.

All normal stuff.

A switch. Liz wasn’t dominant in anyway. He seemed okay with that, brushed it off really. Unlike most of the messages she got, he seemed perfectly okay with not talking too much about their kinks. He let her steer the conversation when it came to that, which was nice.

Taking a deep breath, she put her screen to sleep and tucked her phone into her purse. “Well, it’s now or never,” she said as she pulled her vanity mirror down and checked her makeup one more time.

She tucked some stray strands of hair away and exited the car. Shoulders back, head high—she could do this. She could meet someone for coffee. She could go on a date. She was a single woman in her late twenties. This type of thing happened every day. There wasn’t a need to be dramatic about it.

Just as she slid her purse over her shoulder, the bag vibrated. The hope that it’d be SensualPrime39 canceling blossomed in her chest. Eagerly, she fished her phone from the pocket of her bag.

Anemone: Go get ’em. Breathe. Laugh. Be yourself. Don’t overthink it. Have fun.

The smile on her face couldn’t be helped. Anemone was a better friend than she deserved.

Dropping the phone back in her bag, she reached for the door just as another hand did the same. “Oh.” Heat flourished in her chest and up into her cheeks as she turned to apologize. “I’m sorry.” She pulled her hand back.

“It’s okay,” SensualPrime39 said as he pulled the door open. “Allow me.”

“Oh!” she repeated as recognition dawned, taking in his dark undercut hair and closely trimmed beard. His warm hazel eyes fixated on her as she offered him an awkward wave. “Hey,” she greeted to go with the movement. “Gingersnap.” She offered him her hand.

His smile grew, showing rows of white, but crooked teeth. “Oh, hi,” he greeted with enthusiasm. “Perfect timing.” He gestured her inside. “Let’s get coffee and a table.” He crossed his arms to hold the door open and shake her hand at the same time.

As far as first meetings went, this one wasn’t terrible. It could be worse. He was punctual. There were worse things in the world than someone who was punctual. He was cuter in person than in his pictures.

Once they’d gotten their caffeinated beverages with whipped cream and caramel, they found a table in the corner, away from prying ears. Doing her best to ignore the annoying, anxious butterflies in her stomach, hellbent on reminding her to be insecure, she navigated the traditions of the first date conversations.

Considering they’d spent a week exchanging messages on the website, conversation flowed easily enough. They’d covered a lot of the get-to-know you stuff, so Liz decided some ice breaker questions would be the best way to really get to know him.

“If someone were to make a movie of your life, who would play you?” she asked as she brought her cup to her lips for a small sip. Thankfully, the danger of scalding her mouth had passed.

He laughed and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “Are we basing this on looks or personality?”

“You tell me,” she responded with a shrug. No way was she letting him get off that easily.

Another nervous laugh from him, which had her tilting her head. Was he stalling? Not that hard of a question, was it? Okay, she didn’t need to overthink his hesitance.

“I don’t want to give the wrong answer.”

“There isn’t a wrong answer,” she countered.

He spun his cup. “I mean, what if I pick an asshole?”

She lifted her brows. “What do you mean?”

“Or like, what if I pick someone who recently got in trouble, you know? Like he was recently canceled, and I just didn’t know that, but you do.” He gestured toward her. “And now you think that I’m like him.”

She furrowed her brows at him. “What?”

“Like that guy from That ‘70’s Show. I like him. But there was this big thing that he like was sexually inappropriate with all these women. I don’t even know if it’s true, but it doesn’t matter. He lost the show he was on. I’m not like that, but if I picked him, you might think I’m like him.”

“I think you’re over thinking the question.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m like that.”

She regarded him warily. “I don’t.” Though, the more he protested, it definitely made her think something happened. “Did someone accuse you…”

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