Bestie G: You first. How was your night last night? Did anything fun or dramatic happen?

Fun or dramatic? Where would I even start with that? Those details aren’t for a text. It would look like a novel. I could speak the words into the phone, but going through and editing all the mistakes the voice-to-text thing would make isn’t fun. And it would still be a novel. I don’t text like my mom, and I can’t stand that she sends walls and walls of information.

Me: It was okay. I’ll tell you about it when we hang out. Are you free this afternoon?

Bestie G: Sorry, I have a hot date.

Me: With Connor?????????????!!!!! (Eye-popping emoji, brains blowing out of the top of the head emoji, screaming shocked face emoji)

Bestie G: With Connor. He’s alright.

Me: Just alright?

When Mont dropped me off last night, he walked me right up to my apartment door, even though I insisted I was okay. My legs were steady, my nipple never did start hurting past a low-level pinch-like pain after the numbing from the ice wore off, and he hadn’t kissed me in thirty minutes, so the rest of my body was also okay.

We didn’t make plans to see each other today or tomorrow. We work together, so we won’t have to wait a week. And we didn’t ask each other if we wanted to have dinner on a weeknight or if that would be too much. We didn’t clarify what we would be doing.

It didn’t really seem like we needed to have a long conversation in his car or the hallway. I know he’s not going to disappear, and he has the same reassurance about me. Not just because we work together. Neither of us was bristling with that unbridled need to set everything out in rigid lines or dating boundaries. We were comfortable. We were chill.

We’re going to be okay, I think.

I more than think. I’m sitting here grinning while my heart is racing crazily in my chest just thinking about last night.

Bestie G: It’s weird. Connor was a jerk at the restaurant, but after we left, he was fine. He’s had a rough time with his family. They’ve been getting to him lately. Anyway, it’s complicated. I’ll tell you about it when we hang out, too.

Me: I’m sorry to hear that. I thought something might be bothering him. Did he really mean all that bleak stuff he said about relationships and marriage?

If he did, can I stand by and watch my bestie possibly get attached to someone who might keep himself detached from her? Could Connor even love Gen? She’s a great person, and I know she’ll fall for him if he gives her the chance. She has a thing for choosing unavailable or inappropriate men. I would never say I wish she’d just go for more casual interactions, but it would save her a lot of pain and heartache.

Bestie G: It’s complicated. I can tell you more about that too.

Guard your heart! I want to scream those words. I want to text it. But I don’t. Who am I to be giving advice? I need to come clean about what my own night looked like.

Me: Mont and I decided we might want to try going on a date for real.

Bestie G: Whhhhhhhhhaaatttttttt? Ahhhhhhhhhh! Do I get credit for hooking you two up?

Me: I’m not sure credit is the right word. You do remember how I told you about him purchasing the company I worked at to kind of ruin my life and me almost quitting, right?

Bestie G: But everything worked out.

Me: Sigh.

Bestie G: You can take credit for the double date last night. I wouldn’t have met Connor otherwise.

Also, sigh. I’m not sure that’s a good thing yet.

Me: Be careful, Gen. I know I don’t say it often enough because you’re a grown woman, and I don’t want to sound like your mom, but I don’t want to see you get hurt again.

Bestie G: Don’t worry. I won’t fall in love with him.

Triple sigh. I’m not sure that’s true. I know I’ll be here whatever happens, and theI warned you, or I told you sothing will never be used by me, but it would be nice if there was one less man in the world I didn’t want to separate from their gonads for hurting one of the best women I know.

Me: We’re still just super casual about it. I’m not sure when our next date is going to be. We work together, and we want to keep it professional. Mont changed his mind about leaving, though. If things work out, maybe we could see some of the world together. My boss could grant me leave from work. (winking emoji)

Bestie G: Look at you! Dating the boss! Banging the boss! You’re always so proper. I highly approve of this new Evilla.

Me: Nooooo, we aren’t banging.