Page 37 of The Quit List
I try not to cringe as Jax plucks the piece of paper out of my hand. “Over thirty… Stable job… Must want commitment and kids…” The corners of his lips tip up. “Okay. Now I can see why you didn’t want to date me.”
I laugh. “Told you it wasn’t personal.”
“Do you want my honest advice?”
“That is why I came to the bar to see you.”
“Well, in that case…”
He crumples up the piece of paper and tosses it behind him.
“Hey!” I squawk.
Jax shakes his head. “Hate to break it to ya, but your hit list is trash, Hollywood.”
“I beg to differ! That’s my perfect-on-paper guy.”
He grabs the paper he just threw and goes to smooth it out on the grass in front of him. “You’re ridiculous.”
“How is wanting those things ridiculous?” I challenge. “I think most single women looking for a partner would want similar things.”
“I didn’t say that wanting those things is ridiculous. I said that you are.” He looks over at me and those strange gray eyes almost glow in the midday sunshine as he appears to study me. “You’re that girl who’s had her wedding planned since the eighth grade, aren’t you?”
“No.”
It was seventh grade. So joke’s on him.
He smiles, like he actually heard my silent tack-on. “I get that you want to find someone suitable to settle down with, but you can’t think that these four things are everything you need in your so-called ‘perfect man.’”
I frown. “Well, I…”
But Jax isn’t finished. “Like, take this whole ‘wants to settle down and have kids’ thing. Any scrub out there could want kids, but what does the potential future father of your potential future children look like for you? Because I’m assuming that, more than simply wanting kids, you’d want him to have qualities that would make a good father.”
He doesn’t wait for me to answer, just gestures towards my list again. “And you say you want a guy in his thirties or early forties. Trust me, I know a ton of a lot of forty-year-old men who are seriously not well adjusted. Hell, even some men in their fifties and sixties who have no concept of what it means to be in a good relationship.” He says all of this dryly, but I could swear something heavy flashes behind his eyes. He looks away before I can identify it. “So, in reality, it’s not age that’s the issue, it’s that you want a man who is emotionally mature, who is ready and willing for a relationship. Right?”
Jax is suddenly looking straight at me, those slate eyes boring into mine. It’s all I can do to nod.
“Marrying someone means that you actually have to live with that person and enjoy their company. Be a team with them. Maybe eventually parent with them. So, what about personality? Values? Sense of humor?”
I take the paper, feeling like my head might either explode or float off towards the Atlanta skyline. Who’s to know.
Because I’m seeing things with brand new eyes now. And once again, Jax Grainger is right.
But he’s also not currently using dating apps to try and find himself a happily ever after.
“I guess I figured that if I set out with the minimum requirements, I’d be keeping my options open.” I frown, thinking back over Keith and Emmett and a whole parade of other men who, quite frankly, sucked. “The dating pool is kinda bleak to begin with, and I didn’t want to shrink it right off the bat.”
“Quality over quantity, Holly. And to find the right quality man, you need to start swimming in the right pool,” Jax replies thoughtfully, then points to my cell phone on the grass next to me. “Can I see your Spark profile?”
I obediently reach for my phone, but then pause, raising a quizzical brow at him. “You gonna toss my phone across the park, too?”
“Hopefully I won’t have to.” He grins. And for some reason, I unlock it, open my Spark app, and pass the phone to him.
He looks at the screen and winces. “Awh, Holly. Didn’t I say to do better?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“You’re just one click away from finding your soulmate…” he reads. When he looks up, his face is incredulous. “This is, quite literally, the worst dating profile bio I’ve ever seen.”
