Page 67 of Only With Me
Though I’m curious why he’s on this app.
Now I just need to figure out how to respond to start a conversation.
Harlow: I could teach you but with your sports background, I doubt you’d need more than one lesson.
Oh God, that was lame. Wasn’t it?
Brandon: That’s okay. I guess we’d have to find something else to do for our second date then.
Harlow: You’ll teach me to play basketball?
Brandon: For sure. Might be easier if I just lift you up to make the basket instead.
Harlow: Because I’m short or too dumb to learn?
Brandon: Nah, I’m saying it’d be more fun touching you instead.
Okay…I can’t tell if that’s a cute one-liner or a gross one.
Harlow: You’ll have to tell me more about yourself. What are you studying there?
Brandon: ET. Engineering Technology.
Harlow: Oh! So your athletic AND a brainiac. Why exactly are you here?
Brandon: I’m kinda shy around girls so most of them put me in the friendzone before I get the courage to make a move.
Aww.
Brandon: I figured girls on CowboyMatch would be looking for something a bit more serious versus a hookup.
Harlow: Makes sense.
Brandon: Why are you on here?
Harlow: My bestie told me to try it. She says I need to “get out more.” I’m from a small town of only two thousand people, so the options are limited.
Brandon: You should come up here some weekend. Tons of stuff to do, on and off campus. Well, it’s kindaboring right now with the colder weather but come spring, I love to go hiking. In the summer, my friends and I go whitewater rafting and fishing.
Harlow: I’d love that!
We continue chatting for two hours before he tells me he has to get ready to visit some family. Things leave on a good note, so I’m optimistic. For now.
When I go back to check my other messages, there’s ten more.
Only two aren’t sexual, so I respond to them—Michael and Jayden.
“Okay, this is kinda fun…” I muse to myself.
Keeps me from getting bored, but the meds I took earlier are making me drowsy, so I lock my phone and take a nap.
When I wake up, it’s dinnertime. Mom didn’t have much energy after work, so she brought home a pizza, which is fine by me. I’m not super hungry anyway.
Instead of sitting at the table, we crash in the living room and watch one of Dad’s favorite shows.
“How’s your tailbone?” Mom asks.
“I think I’ll survive,” I tell her. “Feels fine when I’m sitting on ice, but it hurts when I walk.”
