Page 42 of Love Harder

I knew that regardless of how our beginning commenced, this would end in ugly tears. I predicted the plot twist from just reading the prologue.

I needed to run away…which is why I did the opposite.

Dimples was supposed to be a cookie, but I knew from the moment we kissed, the only cookie I would be having was in my gallon of vegan ice cream I would be crying into when things ended.

Dimples was my “type.”

I didn’t think I had a type, but alas, here we are.

He was tall, dark hair, and his eyes a golden hazel. He was big; I always felt shadowed in his arms. I really liked that. Perhapsbecause of our ages. Or maybe it’s because I am constantly looking for my Superman.

He smelled good.

He tasted good.

He was good.

Period.

He sent a lot of messages and voice notes early on. And yes, there is such a thing as being attracted to someone’s voice. His South African accent would occasionally come through, making me want to die small deaths and not helping the predicament at hand.

I tried to convince myself that he was just a cookie and not to get attached. But the more we spoke, the more I saw what a fucking liar, liar, pants on fire I was.

The main thing I liked about Dimples was that he didn’t seem to realize how gorgeous he was, which surprised me because, at first glance, I got *whispers* fuckboy vibes.

But the more we spoke, the more it became clear he was quite humble. However, fuckboy he may not be (jury was still out) but party boy he was. He acted the way any young man at his age was “expected” to act when with friends.

And that’s what always reminded me of his age.

It was the slap of reality I needed to exorcise myself of these demons and save myself the tears.

Oh, hindsight, how you can fuck right off on the shitty horse you rode in on.

We spoke for a few days, and I tried to remember why he was bad for my sanity. But with anything, things that want to kill me make me feel most alive, and when he dropped a few comments which showed me that he’s an alpha by nature, I waved goodbye to good sense. She was a party pooper anyway.

He suggested we meet.

It’s also suggested to read instructions. As it is not to touch something hot as it’ll burn. But here I was, stripping off clothes as I ran toward a raging inferno.

He messaged a lot, but they always do in the beginning, something I learned the hard way. So I was skeptical. I hated that I viewed any new human connection this way, but history scarred me, and those scars will never heal.

There were many things I liked about Dimples. He never presumed. He never crossed the dick pic line. He never was crass. He was clear about what he wanted, and that was me. But he never resorted to dirty talk to elucidate that.

He was honest and expressed that he was attracted to me and wanted to meet to explore that attraction in person.

My head and my heart are on two entirely different realms. My head knew this is the worst idea I’ve had in a very long time, but my heart was donning a pair of red glitter pumps while pursing her red lips.

Needless to say, my head exited the room with her middle fingers raised.

We planned a day to see one another, but I was surprised as he was the one who canceled early on.

Note to reader:you have the advantage here, as I went into this blind. But please remember this as it’s pivotal to the story.

His excuse was he had to help his friend as he was getting his dog desexed.

Yes, I scratched my head too.

But I figured he was like most men; they talk up a big game, but none of them actually deliver. So I assumed Dimples was just like the rest. I was surprised, however, because he had said he liked older women, and most older women I know wouldn’t stand for this sort of shitty behavior.

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