Page 92 of My Rules

“What’s that look for?” He frowns.

“I just . . .” I shrug.

“You what?”

“I didn’t realize you were after a professional.”

He frowns. “What do you think a professional is?”

“Someone like Ruby.”

“Not at all. I mean ...” He breaks into a smile. “Someone like you.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not a professional, Blake.”

“It’s for people who are looking for intelligence in a partner.” He reaches over and picks up my hand in his. “Or are you looking for a boxer who’s been knocked out two hundred times?”

I snatch my hand out of his, annoyed. “Maybe if he’s got a good dick, I am.”

“I guess,” he chuckles. “That could work.”

“Well, what’s the other one?”

“Bumble.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s a different demographic.”

“Okay.”

“And no more picking you up from your house. From now on, we meet them there. I hate that Herman Munster knows where you live now.”

“Herman Munster?” I giggle.

“That’s right.” He points to my phone. “Choose an app. We’re going through the candidates.”

“What, now?”

“Next weekend.” His eyes dance with mischief. “I’m choosing your date, and you’re choosing mine.”

One date from hell for you coming right up.

I pick up my phone. “Sounds good to me.”

Two hours later

Blake bursts out laughing as he reads my phone.

“What?” I laugh before I even know what he’s going to say. We’ve been in hysterics all night. Who knew going through a dating site for someone else could be so funny?

“Listen to this ...” He laughs again before he composes himself to read the blurb.

Cuckhold wanted.

He tips his head back and laughs again as he slaps the table.

“What?” I laugh. The thing is, I think we may be delirious by this point and are laughing at literally everything. He tries to straighten his face so that he can spit it out.

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