Page 2 of Head Over Feels
“Cole….”
“Giveme two more days.Ihave some ideas.Pleeeeease?”Ugh.
Ineeded to get back to work. “Fine.Aslong as you remove my profile from any app other than the one we agreed on.”
Hepromised, and we ended the call.But, being older and wiser now,Iimmediately pulled up my text messages and sent one toWill.
Igave your boyfriend 48 more hrs.That’sit.He’sstressing the crap out of me
Will
Sorry!Buthe’s having so much fun with this.It’sadorable
Uhhuh.Hewas talking to some guy who’s into watersports
Will
Shit.I’llhandle it
* * *
Afterthe dayI’dhad,Iwas not in the mood to go toSteve’sbirthday party.Hisactual birthday wasn’t until tomorrow, butStevehad planned events all weekend and this gathering was sort of a kickoff.I’dbeen smart enough to fake some plans for the next couple of days, so as long asImade an appearance tonight,Stevewouldn’t complain about me missing the rest.
NotthatIminded spending time withSteve.Heck, he’d been the best thing about my soul-sucking call center job, particularly since they wouldn’t let us work from home like other companies did.Butthis was my first time meeting his friends from outside of work, andIhadn’t wanted to commit myself to an entire weekend of togetherness with peopleIdidn’t know.
“Feeeeeliiiiiiix!”Stevecaroled drunkenly whenIwalked into the back room atHenry’sBar&Restaurant.Hisnormally perfectly coiffed blond hair was disheveled, as if he’d run his hands through it more than once.
Steve, was a hottie, fyi.Notmy type—he was almost my age andIlike them a lot older.ButifStevehad been gay, he could’ve ruled the club scene.Notonly did he have blond hair that usually magically appeared as if he’d just styled it, but he had a lean, wide-shouldered swimmer’s build, blue eyes and dark red lips.WhenI’dmet himI’dtaken great pleasure in noticing his lips were on the thin side.Yes, yes, a stupid, petty thing to judge someone for, butI’dbeen grasping for some proof he wasn’t perfect.
BecausewhenStevehad started at the call center,I’dtaken one look at him andI’dmade assumptions.I’dassumed he was a stereotypical frat boy type, only days from the last time he’d played beer pong with his bros.I’dassumed he’d have no interest in being polite to, much less befriending, his awkward, chubby, gay coworker.I’dassumed he’d passed his interview on charm alone and would be incompetent at work.I’dassumed we’d never get along.
FortunatelyI’dbeen wrong on all counts.OnceI’dactually spoken to him,Stevehad won me over and soon became one of my best friends.
Whichis whyI’ddragged myself out on aFridaynight to be social whenIwasn’t feeling it.Stevehad invited me to “drinks with friends”, andI’dfoolishly pictured ten or fifteen people.
InhindsightIshould’ve factored in exactly how outgoingStevewas, butIhadn’t.AndnowIwas a mentally exhausted introvert facing a room of about forty mostly drunk strangers.
Well, crap.
Iwanted to ditch the party and make a run for it, butStevehad seen me.Heslung an arm around my neck and dragged me into the horde.AtleastI’dhad the foresight to get a drink at the bar whenI’darrived, soIclutched myOldFashionedand pasted on a grin asSteveintroduced me around.
Heshouted to each person, whose namesI’dnever remember, thatIwas “my guyFelix, the best coworkerever!”EventuallyStevegot distracted by another new arrival, and he patted me on the shoulder before bounding off to crook his arm around someone else’s neck.
GratefullyIlet my smile slip and ducked around the girlI’djust been introduced to, whatever her name was.She’dalready started chatting with someone else, so she only noticed me again whenIknocked into her bag asItried to wriggle past her toward the empty table in the corner. “Sorry,”Ishouted over the din.Iwas free.
Butmy hope for solitude was dashed.Thecorner table was now occupied by a big, beefy guy twirling a beer in his hands and wearing a t-shirt that read,Deathto thePatriarchy.Oh, well.Sharinga table with one guy was better than making small talk with the other thirty-nine people.
“Hey, you mind ifIsit here?Ineed a break from the crowd for a minute.”
Theguy looked up, blinked at me, and scowled.Heleaned back, folding his arms across his chest. “Well, well, well.Ifit isn’t 4TheWin123.Areyou sure you havetimeto sit?Seeingas you’reon the huntand all?”
Ihesitated, my hand on the back of one of the empty chairs. “Uhhh, what?”Asinking sensation in my gut was no doubt the precursor to acid reflux coming my way.FreakingCole.
Theguy was attractive.Iguessed over six feet tall, with brown eyes, cute round cheeks and light brown hair that faded into a short boxed beard.IfI’dcome across his profile on the app,Iwould’ve messaged him, even if he wasn’t as old asIusually went for.
ButIhadn’tseen his profile.
Itook a deep breath and said, “I’mguessing you messaged me sometime in the last two weeks?”
