Page 3 of Shamrock Kisses

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Saturday, March 15th

“Good morning,” I cheerily answer, seeing Emily’s name shine across my phone screen as I get ready for High Five’s St. Patrick’s Day party.

“Exactly how much green are you wearing?” she asks with a high level of stress in her tone.

“I’m wearing green jeans and a white shirt that says, ‘Here for the Paddy.’”I hope the husky hottie from yesterday makes an appearance.“Plus,” I refocus, “I’m currently in the process of applying a shamrock tattoo on my temple.”

“Okay,” Emily breathes. My answer seems to lower her stress. “Do you have extra tattoos?” she asks playfully.

“Yeah, tons.”

“Bring those to the bar! Nicholas will find it so funny if I wear a bunch.”

The happiness in her tone brings a smile to my face. I’m happy for her. She’s so smitten with Nicholas, and I love them together.

“Because you don’t have tattoos, and he has that epic sleeve?”

“Something like that.”

“I’m happy you’re getting some again,” I joke, hearing the flirtatiousness in her last response. “You’re easier to be around.”

It’s been so long since I felt that comfortable with someone. I miss that—the giddiness, the teasing looks across the room. But instead, I’m the single friend now.How fucking bizarre!

“So, you know how my team is cleaning the Dubois house?” I ask, wanting to tell her about the guy from yesterday.

“Your biggest account. How could I forget?”

“I was there yesterday on a last-minute clean, and the owner’s son and a friend arrived. They’re our age, maybe younger, which was surprising. I always assumed the family was way older. Anyways—off track—I know. The friend,” I purr. “He’s, like, my perfect dream … green eyes, husky, bearded … rawr.”

“Rawr?” Emily laughs. “So, you’re in love. Got it. Did you make a move?”

“Sort of … I mentioned that they should come by High Five today.”

“Trifecta!” she screams, and I pull the phone away from my ear to save my hearing. “Make it a three-peat!”

“Em, please stop using sports references. It’s freaking me out.”

“I know.” She giggles. “Who would have ever thought I would watch sports with a guy?”

“Not me.” I laugh.

“Well, I hope this green-eyed hottie comes by so someone can get lucky!”

Shaking my head, I can’t hold back a smirk.

“I’m still getting used to being the only single one in the friend group. It’s weird …” I trail off, thinking about how not long ago, I was the only one regularly dating, and now I’m the only one in a sexual drought.

My New Year’s resolution was to stay off the dating apps. They suck, and I’d only been matching with guys looking for a fun night.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I hope he comes by. He’s probably from Chicago and not looking for something serious. That’s my type, after all, emotionally unavailable pricks … with huge dicks. One night wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. I would like to know more about the guy besides being very attracted to him, but I want more from guys than that. I’m thirty-one and want something deep, like what my friends have going on.

“See you when the doors open?” I ask, refocusing on my call with Emily.

“You know it!”

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