Page 57 of The Match

I’ve been nervously pacing the kitchen, waiting for Evie to come out of the bathroom. I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach that the conversation we just had did not come out in my favor. It might have just been in my head, but she seemed spooked before she went to the bathroom.

When I hear the bathroom door open but Evie doesn’t come right into the kitchen, I round the corner and find her in the living room. She has Charlie’s leash in one hand and her cellphone in the other. She’s looking down and typing on it, but when I enter the room her wide green eyes shoot up to me and she offers an awkward smile.

“Oh hey, yeah, so I’m really sorry, but it turns out I’ve got to cut our dinner date short.” What? “I had something come up, and . . . it’s kind of important. Well, actually it’s super important, and I have to take care of it right away. I’m really sorry.”

Jake, you dipshit! I knew that I played it too cool back there in the kitchen.

When Evie told me she was asked out by some random dude, I freaked out inside. That situation is exactly why I’ve been hesitant to date someone younger than me. But then I thought about it and realized she had given me the perfect excuse to have my cake and eat it too. I could date her. I could enjoy time with her. I could kiss her. But as long as I never plan to commit to this woman, I’ll be okay. I can’t lose someone I never really had, right?

I don’t love the idea of a non-exclusive relationship (hate it, actually) but I thought maybe it’s the best option for me when I’m scared to death of committing to someone only to open the possibility of her leaving me too.

But right now, seeing her frantically typing on her phone . . . I’m thinking that I made a mistake.

“Don’t go,” I say, reaching out to cover her phone with my hand. “Or . . . at least give me two minutes.”

Her eyes hit mine, and there is a look of finality in them that makes my stomach twist. “Definitely not. I need to go.”

Wow. I must have really butchered that conversation more than I realized.

I’m now desperate. I tried to play it cool earlier, and clearly that didn’t work, so now it’s time to let it all hang out. “Evie, that was an act back there. I panicked when you said someone else asked you out. I was trying to be chill, but the truth is, I really like you. I like you so much that it scares me. The last woman I cared for left me high and dry after nine years of marriage. I’m still a little banged up and scarred. I want to have a relationship with you because I think you’re incredible, and gorgeous, and smart, and . . .” She looks so shocked right now that I’m worried I’m coming off a little stalkerish, but I keep going because I’ve opened the gates and the truth is all flooding out. “. . . way too good for me. But I have a lot of baggage, and honestly, I wouldn’t blame you if you want to split right now. But I hope you don’t because I’m so tired of holding back from you, and I’m ready for something real ag—”

“Jake!” Evie cuts off my long-winded monologue with a small chuckle. I don’t really know what’s funny about what I just said—laying my heart out on the line like that and all—but she chuckles nonetheless. “You didn’t have to say any of that.” She shrugs and shakes her head. “I’m not leaving because I’m mad or offended. I’m leaving because I just started my period early, and I don’t have any tampons with me.”

Oh my god. Her words sink in with the same effect as a sedative. My shoulders relax. She’s not upset. “You started your period?”

She nods, a tense smile on her mouth.

I stare, blinking at Evie and trying to wrap my mind around this new turn of events. Evie is not upset. She never was. I didn’t have to pour my heart out to her. She was fine with casual.

She clears her throat and folds her arms. “So, can I call an Uber now? Since . . . you know, I still don’t have any tampons with me?”

“Oh.” I snap back to life and take her phone out of her hands and toss it onto the couch. “No.”

She sighs. “I don’t think you fully understand my predicament.”

I grab her hand and take her with me to the guest bathroom. Once inside, I open the linen closet, revealing three shelves fully stocked with every kind of maxi pad and tampon known to man—

or woman. I wave my hand over the selection like I’m Vanna White.

“Ta-da,” I say and then feel like a dork. Is it weird to be proud of your selection of feminine hygiene products?

She’s amazed. “Why do you have a closet full of pads and tampons?”

“My sisters are never prepared, and I got sick of making tampon runs when they would come over to hang out or watch Sam. I decided to just stock my house. And it’ll come in handy when Sam starts one day.”

She laughs and stares at the closet. “I’ve never been so jealous of anything in my life. I’m cheap and always buy the smallest boxes possible, like I might not get a period next month.” She pauses and looks at me hesitantly. “Was that TMI?”

I laugh. “Evie, I have four sisters, a mother, and a ten-year-old daughter, and I was married for nine years. I’m very aware that you have a period, and I’m not at all squeamish about it. You don’t have to be either. Ever. In any capacity.” I hope she understands my meaning with the last part.

She quirks a brow at me. “Are you about to give me a speech on feminism and how I should be proud of my body and its functions?”

I let my gaze travel the length of her, and when my eyes meet hers again, I drop my voice low. “You should definitely be proud of your body.”

She shoves my chest with a guttural laugh. “If anyone but you said that to me, it would immediately give me the ick.”

“So, what you’re saying is, I can deliver a line better than any other man in the world?”

“Okay, get out.”

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