Page 19 of How to Win the Girl

Ha!

My qualifications are obviously lessinvolvedthan Drew’s, but that doesn’t mean I don’t do my homework.

“I know information.” He sets his plate on the counter behind him, appetite gone. “What do you even know about courtin’ a girl? You sleep with them, slap them on the ass, and send them out the door.”

“So? That doesn’t mean I can’t read people.”

See, that’s the truth of it. The reason I don’t settle down and haven’t found anyone—haven’t clicked—is ’cause not one girl I’ve met hasn’t wanted something from me. And I can smell the desperation and greed half a mile away. Long before they trail a long fingernail down my chest, I’ve sniffed that shit out.

Yes, I’ll still sleep with a gold-digger, but she will never meet our mama.

No fucking way.

“Do you trust me?” I ask my brother, knowing full well he does…mostly.

He nods. “Sort of.”

His honesty makes me chuckle. “Then what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“I need to think about it.”

Think about it? “What’s there to think about?”

He puts a hand up. “Just don’t do anything until I’ve made up my mind. Just ’cause my date this afternoon didn’t go well doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doin’.”

Jeez, why’s he so stubborn?

“Fine. Think about it.”

He’ll think about it? Fine. In the meantime, I’m gonna do him a favor and create the dating profile. In the time it takes him to make up his mind, he’ll be well on his way to a few first dates with chicks I’ve already decided would be good matches for my bro.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

And when I find him the girl of his dreams, he’ll bethankingme.

seven

daisy

Pro Tip: If you’re ever on a date having pizza and you don’t like the guy, cover your slice in garlic salt and tell him, “This is in case you were planning on kissing me later.”

I havefour hundred and ninety-two matches.

Whoa.

I haven’t paid for the app, but I get the first seven days free and plan to take full advantage.

492 matches.

I’m impressed with myself!

I begin swiping.

Swipe left, left, right, left.

“No. No.Godno…”

Off I go, reading and swiping, swiping and glancing at the ages, names, brief blurb at the top of the bio.

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