I wait for Jen to comment, but silence is all I get.
After a solid minute and a half, I can’t take it. “Fine. I like her. A lot. I like her a lot, and she’s all dressed up in these hot, red heels for some shithead who isn’t worthy of her. But she doesn’t want to go out with me. Wants to be friends…thinks that’s what’s best. I honestly don’t even know if she likes me.”
“Well, you’ll have to change her mind.”
“Change her mind?”
“Adam Hardick, you are a great catch. You’re smart, loyal, and not bad looking under all that hair. If she’s what trips your trigger, there’s zero reason you shouldn’t go after her. Figure out what she wants and help her see that you’re what she can’t live without.”
I’m fucked. Because I have no idea what Kelsey can’t live without.
* * *
I dig out my laptop and plug it in.
After checking my email, which is overflowing with advertisements and spam, I pull up the browser.
What was the name of that dating site Kelsey mentioned?
I type DATE.COM.
Now, what do I have to do to find one Kelsey Malone? I’ll see what she’s looking for in a guy. Maybe I can help her find it.
Of course I can’t just stalk her profile.
The site won’t let me browse unless I sign up and pay.
Pay. To find out what she wants in a man—not just a get-laid guy, but a guy she actually might date?
Is it worth the money to learn that information?
Why the hell do I even care?
Do I want to date her? Like changing status on social media dating?
I don’t even know.
What I do know is that I want another chance to taste that sweetness she hides between her thighs. Another chance to make her scream when she comes all over my fucking tongue. A chance to sink my cock so deep inside her she’ll never want to go out with any other guy, because they can’t go as deep or as long as I can.
All that, and to hold her all night. Make her blush and smile. Have her dress up in those red heels for me. Most of all, I want the chance to convince her how beautiful she really is.
I want to fix what I fucked up when she overheard me on the phone.
I tug the collar of my t-shirt away from my suddenly sweaty neck.
Shit. Maybe I do want to date her.
But the kid. Do I want to date a woman with a kid?
I envision a smaller version of Kelsey. Reddish hair hanging down her back, impish grin. Yeah. I think I can handle hanging out with something that cute.
All right then. Let’s do this.
First, to choose a profile name.
Can’t use just straight-up Adam.
It should tell something about me, but without being too obvious.
I’ve got it.
NextDoor
I fill out the enormous number of questions.
Now, something short and sweet for the About Me portion.
Strong man seeks soft and willing woman.
No, that’s probably too blatant.
Ex-military guy searching for the one who can stand to look at him.
Cool guy looking for the girl who needs to be heated up.
Damn. This is hard.
Hmmm… I should just say that.
I’d probably get all kinds of action if I put that. But, I don’t want all kinds of women. I only want one right now.
What would attract Kelsey? Specifically, Kelsey.
I dick around with the About Me part for a few more minutes until I hit on something that might work.
Screw it. That’ll have to do.
I spend three hours looking through hundreds of women’s profiles.
What the fuck is up with all the duck lip pictures?
Finally, Kelsey’s beautiful smile shines at me from my screen. My cock insta-firms, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
I was beginning to think I was on the wrong fucking site.
I read her info. Look through the photos she’s posted. Each more gorgeous than the last. Even the one with no make-up and her hair up in a messy bun.
That one might be my favorite.
I don’t have any good pictures of myself. Plus, I’m not sure she’ll go out with me if she knows it’s me. What if she won’t go out with me anyway? I want a chance to make her see I can be more than a get-laid guy.
The What She Wants in Her Date section blinks.
What does Kelsey want? Let’s find out.
Honest. Check. For the most part anyway. The big things.
Compassionate. Well, I guess I’m compassionate enough. I help people when I can, if that applies.
Fun-loving. Who the fuck doesn’t like to have fun?
Monogamous. Shit. I’m fucked.
Wait. I’ve been monogamous in the past. There was Rachel. Six months of plugging the same pussy counts as monogamy, right?
I click on the email her now button.
What do I say here?
Hey, pretty lady.
No. That’s fucking creepy.
You’re beautiful. I love the photos.
Damn. I suck at this shit.