Page 14 of About That Night

I clear my throat, genuinely astonished. It tracks with what she’s been telling me, but it’s still just a mind fuck. Why hasn’t some guy pursued her endlessly? If I had been in town, her age, and not just a little averse to deep emotions, I would have gone for her myself.

I realize that’s a decent amount of barriers, but we’re not talking about me here. We’re talking about the collective male population. Even batshit crazy girls have plenty of boyfriends, and same for asshole guys having girlfriends, so this makes zero to no sense to me. Chastity is a goddamn catch. If she wants to settle down, she should be settled down. She should have some guy worshiping at her feet and buying her flowers every Friday. She should have a ring on her finger and some dude desperate to get home to her after work every day.

There are plenty of men who want the whole white picket fence, and if that’s what you want, you clearly can’t do better than Chastity. I’m astonished she’s still single.

“You’re a sweet and beautiful woman. You don’t need a dating instructor. Just be yourself.”

Chastity groans. “That’s the dumbest advice ever, and you know it. Just be yourself. I’ve been being myself, and I haven’t kissed a man in two years. Explain to me how that’s working out.” She sounds exasperated, which anyone will if they haven’t been kissed in two years.

She’s also right. It’s dumb advice. I’m just baffled why there aren’t guys lined up outside her door with engagement rings. “You said you’ve been busy. Maybe you need to get out there more.”

Chastity takes the sweet tea Conway gives her and takes a sip, rolling her eyes. “And you said yourself time isn’t the issue. Get out where? Where am I going? You have all this experience dating, and I have none. Please. Just give me some tips, maybe take me out on a fake date or two and show me how it’s done.”

“You want me to take you out on a fake date?” I’m actually legitimately horrified. I can’t think of anything worse. Wining and dining her, and everyone starts thinking we’re a couple but it’s all fucking fake? That’s beyond comprehension. “People will talk. This isn’t Baton Rouge.”

“That’s perfect. They say men always want a woman that other men want.”

Is she insane? “Men want you, Chastity. Trust me, men want you.”

“If anything, men want to have sex with me, though I’m not even sure about that most of the time. Men certainly don’t want to date me.”

She can’t be serious. “Men want to have sex with you. I want to have sex with you.”

“I trust you to respect my boundaries.”

Hold on. “So this is totally platonic? Fake dating with no chance of you and me having sex?”

“No sex. I told you, I can’t risk it.”

She looks firm on this point.

I feel firm on hating this point. I let all this sink in for a second, wishing I’d ordered something harder than a beer. “Why do you think men don’t want to date you?”

“Because no one has asked me on a date.”

That seems highly unlikely. “Are you sure?”

“What do you mean? I would know if someone asked me out!”

“Fair enough. But…you said your flirt detector is broken…” I don’t even know what I’m about to say. None of any of this makes sense. “Could it be…”

“I want to go on a dating app,” she says. “And I’m terrified.”

Oh, God. I rub my jaw. Men will eat her alive on a dating app. “I don’t understand why you would want to fake date me if you’re jumping on a dating app.”

“I need you to help me understand what people are really saying when they say it. I can’t read the cues. I’m scared I’ll be wrong.”

That makes my chest feel tight. “It’s okay to be afraid when you’re trying something new.”

Chastity sips her tea. “I doubt you’re afraid of anything new.”

She’s totally wrong. I’m fucking terrified at how I’m feeling right now. I feel protective of her, but more than that, I feel…warmth. A deep attraction that has nothing to do with sex. That, my friends, is a Hank Williams Young first at The Swamp.

“I’m afraid of shit,” I tell her, my voice husky.

Like failing. Opening my restaurant, and it’s a bust.

Disappointing my parents, who worked their asses off to provide for us.

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