Page 25 of Curvy Girl Summer

“Yeah.”

For a while anyway.

He gave me a long, contemplative look. “Then instead of blind dates, you’d be better off trying TenderFish.”

It was my turn to frown. “I don’t like dating apps. They aren’t safe.”

“You are stubborn, I see.”

I narrowed my eyes and pursed my lips.

“You just don’t like the idea of getting on TenderFish because I suggested it,” he stated.

“I don’t like the idea because it’s not safe.”

He balked. “How is it any less safe than you meeting someone you’ve never seen before? Not only that… meeting someone you’ve never seen before in a bar by yourself.” He quirked an eyebrow. “I’ve seen some shit in my lifetime. You can’t trust some of these men out here. Especially the ones you don’t know.”

“You can’t trust some men youdoknow,” I countered.

“So, what are you doing?”

“He came recommended by a coworker. So, at least someone I know knows he really exists.”

Ahmad’s brown eyes widened as he pointed to the empty seat beside me. “Who? Him?”

I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing. “You think everything is a damn joke.”

“Just hear me out…” He grabbed a shaker and started preparing a drink. “Create an account. Check out what’s out there. And don’t ever do this blind date shit again.”

“The people I know who are on the apps always complain about the creeps on there.” I made a face. “They meet some decent ones, too, but it’s mostly creeps. It’s not safe.”

“It’s not that bad,” he scoffed.

I lifted my head and narrowed my eyes at him. “That’s that male privilege. As a man, you don’t have to think about all the things that could go left on a date in the same way as I do. Could you be set up and robbed? Yes. But outside of that, what do you really worry about on a date?”

He thought about it for a minute, pouring the mixed concoction into a glass. “Okay.”

“And being fat, being Black, being a woman… all these things make it a little more complicated to date and feel safe.”

“Well, what would make you feel safe?”

I shrugged. “I don’t even know,” I admitted. “But I’m scared of meeting a guy and him attacking me. I’m scared of someone slipping something in my drink. I’m scared of being assaulted. I’m scared of having phone chemistry, but no in-person chemistry. I’m scared of talking on the phone with a guy for weeks to get to know him and then meeting him and not being attracted to him. I’m scared of—”

“Okay, I get it,” he interrupted. “I never really thought about it like that, but you’re right. That’s some heavy shit.” He slid the drink he’d just prepared in front of me. “Here. It’s on the house.”

I touched the glass, sliding it closer to me. It was the exact same drink I’d had earlier. “Thank you.”

He wiped his hands on a towel and then tossed it back down. “You’re right. There are situations I don’t have to think about whenI go on a date that you do. And you’re right, that’s bullshit. So instead of worrying about the things you can’t control, focus on controlling the things that you can.”

“Like…?”

“I work here every Friday night. Set the dates for Friday nights and meet them here. I’ll watch your back and make sure no shady shit happens.”

Holding his gaze, I lifted the drink to my lips. After taking a sip, I cocked my head to the side. “What’s in it for you?”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Why would you help me?”

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