Page 15 of From Our First

“That can be fun, I guess. It’s like a puzzle.”

He smiled, and once again looked perfectly pleasant. Why couldn’t I have feelings for him? “A monotonous one, according to most people. But that’s fine by me. I enjoy making the mundane fun.”

That made me smile. It didn’t sound boring.

“And after a long day of that, coming home to my stamp collection is what makes my days. That and puzzles. You were right. I do like puzzles.”

I held back a groan. I liked puzzles, too. But I didn’t sound that enthusiastic when I talked about them.

Dinner came, and we enjoyed a satisfying meal—me a light pasta dish with capers and other seasonings. He ordered buttered noodles and chicken without salt. I wasn’t even sure there was any seasoning in the butter.

Brian was bland. Completely dull. And so was his meal.

I wondered what would happen if I shook the pepper at him. Would he sneeze, or would he run away in fear?

I inwardly groaned. I was back to being the icy bitch queen again, if only in my thoughts.

We talked about nothing in particular, and I smiled, trying to sound interested. But I wasn’t. And I hated myself a little bit.

After dinner, we split the check, and it just reminded me of Nate, and what I had told him. The fact that I hadn’t let Brian pay because it hadn’t felt like a real date should have grated. Instead, I only thought of my ex.

And I did not like that. I didn’t like that Nathan was always on my mind.

“I wanted to say thank you,” Brian said, his hands behind his back as he nodded at me.

“No, thank you for a wonderful night,” I added.

“I appreciate you dealing with Boring Brian,” he added dryly.

I blinked up at him, confused. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“I know the nicknames I’ve been given my entire life. Iamboring, but as I said, I like what I do. So, thank you for sticking with me the whole night and being pleasant and wonderful. But I think we both know this isn’t going to work out for us. You need someone and something a little spicier. And I need the same.”

He gave me a nod before walking away, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had attacked me.

Heneeded spicier? He didn’t even like spice on his food. Wait, did that mean I was bland, too? Did he not want two lackluster people alone in the same room?

I let out a slight growl, grateful that he couldn’t hear me.

Would that spice him up?

I went to my car, threw my bag onto the passenger seat and then winced because it was a lovely bag, and I didn’t want to scratch the leather. When I turned on the engine, I did my best not to peel out of the parking lot. Would a sad person speed out of the parking lot in a very nice Audi?

Only if they were trying to make a point.

“What is wrong with me?” I muttered.

I made my way home, annoyed with myself. I was not bland. I was in a blind date pact with three of my friends. Unexciting people didn’t do things like that. But maybe if I hadn’t been mundane to begin with, it wouldn’t have been necessary. Perhaps I would have been able to find somebody without needing help. Clearly, I was the problem. I hadn’t been pushing people away for my entire life—they were running away.

When I got home, I slid off my shoes but kept the dress on. It was a slightly more demure outfit than the one I had worn for Nate. No. The one that I had worn for myself on a date that ended up being with Nate. There was a difference.

I went to my wine fridge, pulled out a bottle, and poured myself an enormous glass. I was halfway done with it when I got a text from Dakota.

Dakota:Did I leave my Tupperware for the cupcakes at your place?

Me:Yes, do you need it? I can drop it off.

Dakota:No, you’re on your date. I’m sorry.

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