Blind Date(2)

Taylor makes a little sound in her throat, bringing my full attention back. "Hart, you're young and you could be out there, getting all the love you deserve. Can you just do this for me? Please? Go on a few dates, and if you hate them I swear I'll never ever mention it again. I'll leave you to sew buttons and stay huddled up in this apartment for another four years, wasting away."

I give her a foul look, and she blinks innocently at me.

Damn her. She's good. She knows how to push my buttons and get beneath the surface to stir me up and get what she wants. We've known each other too long-that's the problem. She might as well be my sister, my other half, basically a part of me. And she can read me like a damned book.

"One," I say, looking back down to feed the needle through the button and then through the material of my blouse. "One date, and that's it."

"Five."

I snort. "One."

"Four dates. C'mon, Hartley."

She puts her hands together in a pleading gesture, those big eyelashes batting as she looks at me like some sort of desperate kitten.

I narrow my eyes at her. "Two."

"Three and we'll call it even."

I sigh. "I don't know why I have to go out with three men. Can't I just go out on one date and be done with it? I'm not interested in seeing anyone. I'm not sure I'll ever be interested in dating anyone again. Honestly."

She's already smiling way too big, because she knows she's won. She knows it and she's thrilled with it. "You don't know until you try, and hey, you might even just find a friend out of it. Wouldn't it be nice to have a friend at the very least?"


      ///
       
         
       
        

I squint at her again. "Last time I checked, that's what you are."

She smiles prettily. "Yes, but I mean a male friend. One who might make you laugh. Who might make you feel good again."

"You do all of that," I mumble, putting the needle between my lips as I adjust the button. I know what she means but I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of admitting it.

"Stop arguing with me, and just do as you're told."

I giggle, and the needle drops from my lips. I know what she's doing, and I know it's probably time I give in and start getting back out there, but the very idea of dressing up and going on a date makes me cringe. I don't think it's because I don't want to. I mean sure, one day I do want to meet someone, I guess it's just the fear of being that  …  open with someone again.

I never really dated Ray. We met through mutual friends when we were in our early twenties and we just sort of starting talking-he made me laugh, I'll always remember that. During our first conversation, he had me in hysterics. One thing led to another and before I knew it, we were together. Sure, we went out after that, but there was never the awkward first date moment, where the possibility of getting stuck with a stranger for at least an hour is high.

Then there is the issue of trying to figure out something to say. I groan inwardly, honestly not sure I'm cut out for this. I've never been good with new people, let alone small talk, but Taylor is right, it has been four years and I've held myself back. I can't do that forever. So maybe enduring a few dates is, at the very least, a step in the right direction. I don't want to be alone forever-I truly don't-but I won't deny that the idea of stepping back into the terrifying world of dating does frighten me a little.

"Fine," I give in, and sigh. "Three, but that's it. When it doesn't work out with any of them, and it likely won't, then you leave me alone and mention nothing of the male species again."

She claps her hands together. "It's a deal, but you have to at least try. I don't want to hear you showed up on your worst behavior and ruined things before the men even got to say a word."

I huff. "You just ruined my plan. I was going to wear my ugliest jeans, and dribble while I ate."

She slaps my arm as I grin up at her.

"Don't be smart, Hartley. Trust me, this is going to be good for you."

I grunt. It'll definitely be something for me, but whether "good" is the word I'd use is to be determined. "Where, dare I ask, are you going to find these three eligible bachelors?"

She grins mischievously and rubs her hands together. I don't want to hear her answer, not when she's giving me a look that screams she's been up to no good. "I've already found them." 

She. Wait  …  what? How in the hell could she have found three men, in such a short time?

"Taylor!"