Page 1 of Otter Heart
Chapter One: Adam
One hundred men.
I blew out a long sigh. That was the number of men I’d dated since the end of college. Each one of them had the potential to be something special in my life. And each one of them eventually left to find someone else.
The problem was now painfully obvious.
It wasme. I was the problem.
Of course, I was hoping that the problem was something simpler. Maybe I needed to work out more or maybe I just had really bad taste in movies. Those were things I could fix, things that had actionable steps to correct. But when it came down to it, nothing was simple. It wasn’t my body, my jokes, or even mydickthat drove guys away.
It was just me.
I leaned against the bathroom counter, staring at myself in the mirror and hating everything I saw. If I was ugly, I could just say I had a good personality. But here I was in the best shape of my life, and I’d been told I was an easy eight point five out of ten on the handsome scale. But nobody wanted me.
“Great,” I muttered, burning myself a dirty look. “Now I’m a washed up old twink who’s drowning in self-pity. That’s really gonna draw in Mr. Right.”
Last weekend I celebrated my thirty-third birthday. My boyfriend took me out for drinks with friends. Inevitably, we ended up in a club at some point and he wandered off. I foundhim making out with one of my friends in a dark corner. Of course, I was upset and when I pulled him aside and confronted him about it, he told me something I’ll never forget.
Are you really so blind that you can’t see what kind of guy you are?
Obviously, I wasn’t expecting to hear that from the man I’d been dating for the past six weeks. What did he mean? What kind of guy was I? Clearly the kind that everyone avoided, judging by my previous track record. Maybe they all thought I was a playboy or an asshole. I really didn’t know because nobody stuck around long enough to tell me.
I really thought he was happy with me. We went on fun dates and had great sex. What else could a person hope for from a relationship? Did he expect me to fall in love with him that fast? Or maybe he thought we’d date, but I’d share him with my circle of friends like he was a frat party fleshlight. I had no fucking clue.
Still, his words hit me like a freight truck, and it took me several minutes to regain my composure after he’d left. I didn’t even look back as I left the club and got a cab home. My thoughts spiraled the entire ride.
What kind of guy was I?
I looked into the mirror again, turning my face from side to side. What was it that people saw in me that drove them away? No matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find it. I was just a normal dude. Or at least that’s what I thought.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone and began to type.
Me: What kind of guy am I?
The phone buzzed a moment later, a message from my best friend flashing across the screen.
Rowan: What? Where did that come from?
Me: Just answer the question!
Rowan: I don’t know, Adam. You’re fun and unserious. You skate through life like it’s easy. Nothing bothers you because you just let it roll off your back and keep going.
Me: Is that good???
Rowan: I think so! I always admired that about you.
Rowan: Why do you ask?
I stood there for a long moment, staring at my phone. I contemplated telling Rowan everything, spilling my guts to him in a sudden torrent of emotional excrement. But just as I started to type, I held down the delete key and cleared it all away. He didn’t need to get mired down by my self-pity.
Me: No reason. How’s things going?
Rowan: Oh you know, just making workout videos and living with James at his apartment. I just released a course for my followers and it’s bringing in a lot of extra cash, which is super nice!
Me: Congratulations! You’re doing so well with all that! I still can’t believe you’re a social media star ;)
Rowan: I feel like I do nothing but lift weights and do pull-ups, but if it pays the bills, I’m happy to do it! And it’s nice to give James whatever he wants too. He’s such a great guy.
