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“I’m 25.”

It takes him a few minutes to reply, and I anxiously scroll through my social media apps while I wait. Does he think I’m too young for him? That would suck. A lot.

Finally, a banner flashes across the top of my phone screen.“Does it bother you that I’m so much older than you?”

“Not at all. Does it bother you?”

“It probably should, but it doesn’t. There’s something special about you that I just can’t place. I can’t stop thinking about you after the other night.”

My heart flutters at his admission.“Honestly, I can’t stop thinking about you either.”

We go back and forth sending each other questions through the rest of the night, and I feel more hopeful than I have in a long time. It reminds me of being in high school, when I started talking to my first crush and stayed up too late every night texting him with giddy excitement. I didn’t ever feel that with Brady, but I feel it now.

I find out that the rest of James’ family lives in Arizona, and he has an older sister and a younger brother who he’s close with. He likes to read mystery, thriller, and horror books, but only watches movies every once in awhile. He’s also visited 38 out of the 50 states, and his goal is to eventually visit all of them.

I answer his questions about me too; I tell him my favorite type of music (heavy metal, much to his surprise), that I’m much more of a night owl than an early bird, and that my favorite place I’ve ever visited is Washington state (which is one place of the states he hasn’t been to yet).

After hours of texting, James finally goes to bed, but I can’t help but lie awake thinking of him. I had figured that sooner or later, I’d find a red flag for him and that would lessen my idealization of him. But honestly, everything he’d told me tonight just made me want him more. Everything from his hobbies to his beliefs to his goals in life just increased my attraction to him. Not only that, but he gave honest, thoughtful answers to my questions instead of laughing at me for asking them. Once, when Brady and I were lying in bed, I had asked him what his favorite book of all time was. He had snorted, rolled his eyes, and said “I don’t know, reading is stupid,” before returning to the game he was playing on his phone. Reading has always been one of my favorite hobbies, and he knew that, and he made me feel shitty for it.

But that won’t happen anymore, I remind myself. Brady is in the past for good now. And even though James and I are surely nothing but a temporary fling, I can’t help but compare him to Brady in my mind. Where Brady was callous and cold, James is thoughtful and caring despite his tough exterior. Brady would laugh at me for showing any emotion, while James just had an in-depth conversation with me about our pasts and our dreams for the future.

I don’t want to let myself think of James this much; I can’t expect anything more than casual fun. But, as I fall asleep, he’s the only thing on my mind, and I fear that I already feel much more for him than I should.

CHAPTER SIX

IT TAKES ALLof my self-control to not text James during the day at work. It’s finally Friday, and even though I tend to skip the gym most Fridays, I’m dying to go today just to see him. He seems to hang around there more lately than he used to, and I secretly hope it’s because he wants to see me too.

I’m planning out my weekend in my head when my phone vibrates on my desk.

James: “What time do you get off work?”

I reply instantly, giddy excitement filling my body. “I’m off at 5, why?”

“Care to skip the gym and come over to my house instead? I’ll cook you dinner.”

He wants me to come over to his house? While normally I’d be extremely cautious about going to a man’s house, I can’t help but immediately conjure up fantasies of where the night could lead. I type back my reply. “Okay, I’ll come. But I’m sending my friend your address and name in case you turn out to be a murderer.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I don’t plan on murdering you.”

“That’s exactly what a murderer would say,” I shoot back, biting the insides of my cheeks to keep from smiling. The last thing I need is for some nosy coworker to come ask why I’m smiling at my phone when I should be working.

James sends me his address, which I copy and send in a message to Elana. “If I get murdered tonight, here’s the address. His names is James.” I then await the onslaught of messages that I know I’ll get as soon as she sees my text. Sure enough, ten minutes later my phone is buzzing incessantly. I discreetly read the messages behind my desk.

“Oh my god, finally!”

“Dude, this address is a whole ass house, not an apartment. This man owns a house? How old is he?”

She must be connecting the dots, because the last message reads, “OMG, please tell me it’s gym guy.”

I sigh. “It is, thanks to you, actually. I accidentally left my phone at the gym after I was texting you the other day and he saw all your damn messages when he picked it up.”

“Hahaha holy shit, that’s awesome. Even when I’m not with you I’m a good wingman!”

I shake my head and put my phone away, determined to get the rest of my work done before I leave in an hour. The possibilities of tonight swim through my head as I finish the last hour of work. And once five ‘o clock hits, I pack up my things and race out the door.

MY HEART ISpounding as I stand at James’ door. I had rushed home straight after work, put on some makeup and a cute outfit, then followed my phone’s directions to James’ address. But now, as I stand outside his door in the warm night air in the seconds after my knock, I’m worried. A little scared, even. After feeling complacent in such a long relationship over the past couple of years, the feeling of putting myself out there again is incredibly anxiety-inducing.

James opens the door and lets his gaze rove over my body, top to bottom then back up to my eyes. I immediately feel self-conscious, realizing he’s never seen me in anything except my gym clothes. Now, in my tight jeans and thin, low-cut black sweater, I feel practically naked.

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