Page 21 of 10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

Iggy shakes his head, standing back up. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. But hey, who knows? Maybe Brad will find you the perfect guy.”

He’sthe perfect guy. Except for the tiny littleteensymatter of his sexuality. And the fact that, no matter my own feelings, Brad could never love someone like me.

I drop my head again. I’m so royally screwed.

After allowing myself another minute to wallow, I join Iggy and the rest of our small crew for the day. Hanging drywall is a decent distraction from my thoughts, but when my phone vibrates over and over in my pocket around noon, I have a sneaking suspicion I know exactly who’s rapid-fire texting me. I make it all of five minutes before breaking and checking my messages.

Brad: Joseph-broseph, my man!

Brad: Are you busy tonight?

Brad: If so, clear your schedule.

Brad: You’re going on a date.

Brad: You might want to shave your balls.

Brad: Unless you don’t put out on the first date! Not trying to pressure you, dude. You do you.

Brad: Could you imagine being able to do yourself? I’ve heard some people can self-fellatio, but shit, man. I’m not that bendy. Are you that bendy?

Brad: You don’t have to answer that.

Brad: Shaved balls or not, get excited. I think you’re gonna like this guy!

Brad: I bought you lube.

I take a deep breath. Hold it. Let it out. Laugh a little. Then a lot. When my tears have dried up, I rub my aching chest.

100 percent screwed.

I must be a masochist. I didn’t know this about myself, but I don’t have any other explanation for why I’m meeting Brad outside a restaurant. For my date. With another man.

“Joey Kangaroo!” he calls. “You look banging!”

I don’t have time to respond—or cry—before Brad is greeting me with a hug. It takes me a second to realize he’s counting up from one.

“…five, six,” he says, letting me go. “Are you ready to get wooed?”

“Is…that what’s happening?” I ask, not actually having been given any details about my date tonight. Nor did I ask.

Ignorance is bliss and all.

Brad’s face dips into something close to a frown. “Well, it better happen. Otherwise the guy doesn’t deserve you.”

Oof.

“Don’t settle for less than you’re worth, Joey-roo.”

“Are, uh… Are you coming inside?” I ask around the lump in my throat.

Brad huffs a laugh. “No, man. I’ll wait for you out here. Could you imagine? Me crashing your date? Oh! Here. Your lube.”

I accept the sixteen-ounce bottle of lube Brad passes me, wondering if I’m dreaming. Or if, perhaps, this is a nightmare. “Um… Where am I supposed to put this?”

Brad frowns down at my pockets. None of them are big enough. He spins me around and pats my ass. “Huh.”

Hallucinating, maybe?

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