Page 9 of Tall, Dark, & Ginger

“I get it.”

“Do you? You don’t seem like the kind of guy who would stick around for a bad relationship.”

“Honestly, probably not, but that’s the thing: If you don’t get into relationships, you can’t have a bad one, but you can’t have a good one either.”

“Wise words.”

We both look at the TV as a creepy hand wriggles out of some dirt. I sense Wren wants to talk so I pause the movie.

“My whole adult life, I’ve gone from one guy to the next,” Wren says. “It was like I was afraid to be alone, but that wasn’t really it. I thought that was what you do. Someone asks you out, and there’s chemistry, so you go. And you keep going until it’s not working anymore. How do younotend up in a relationship?”

“If you’re me, you keep it casual. No actual dates or romance, just…” I shrug.

“Sex?”

I nod, focusing on my sandwich. “I sound so slutty, huh?”

“I’m envious.”

I look up.

“I’ve never even had a one-night stand. I stayed with my first boyfriend for almost two years, and it’s been like that ever since. This is the first time I’ve been single for longer than a couple of weeks.”

“How does it feel?”

“Uncomfortable.” He huffs a laugh. “I guess it’s like wearing clothes you’ve never tried on before. They look nice and you want them, but you’re not used to them yet.”

“That’s a good analogy. You’re happy that you left him, right?”

“Oh fuck yeah. Every decision I’ve made since applying for the position at Moby’s has been solid. Eventually, I’ll find my way.”

“Yeah, course you will.”

Wren searches my eyes, a soft smile on his lips, and I’d swear he wants to ask me something, but after a few lingering seconds, he glances at the TV.

“Zombies?”

I nod, smiling. “Let’s do it.”

We finish our sandwiches while we watch humans get their guts torn out, and as a comfortable silence settles between us, a smile pulls at my lips. Maybe being friends with him, real friends, would be even better than drive-by sex. Wren is a nice guy and he deserves a friend, which is what I’ll be.

My phone buzzesin my pocket with another notification from the app I signed up for last week. I finish delivering food to the table I’m at, then pop behind the bar to pull it out and lookat it. Salem told me he saw positive reviews about this app, more quality guys, so I downloaded it, but so far it’s just been the same young twinks and cubs I’ve seen on all the other apps.

I swipe to open the app, pausing on the face smiling back at me. This guy is in his late thirties, which is already a decade older than most of the guys who match with me, and he has really nice blue eyes, brown hair, and a pretty mouth.

I read over his profile, waiting for that ping of excitement that lights me up and gets me motivated to meet someone, but it doesn’t happen. This guy sounds about as exciting at a presentation on the chemical compounds in hair gel.

“Hey, man.” Bane appears in front of me, leaning over the bar. “You look like you need to take a shit. You’re scaring the customers.”

I laugh, handing Bane my phone. “Taking a dump would be more exciting than my dating options these days.”

Bane reads over the profile, tilting his head back and forth before handing the phone back to me. “Doesn’t seem like your type.”

“I expanded the age range I was open to, but it didn’t help. Is it me or is the scene just dull?”

“For your consideration, maybe you’re hung up on someone.”

Rolling my eyes, I reply, “No. I’ve decided Wren is firmly in the friend zone. We’ve been hanging out a few nights when neither of us can sleep, and he needs that.”

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