Page 82 of For You & No One Else (Say Everything 3)

Twenty-One

Field Notes and Book Research

Analog ways to meet potential dates:

Join a club that matches an interest you have but that also allows for conversation with others.

Create your own NoPho group.

Go old-school and go out with friends to a bar.

Join a class to learn a new skill. Pick something that would attract both genders.

Ask friends if they know anyone you should meet.

Dig deeper into your own interests and find the places where people with those interests gather.

Say yes to getting together with a group of your coworkers after work.

Go to the conferences for your profession, attend the mixers.

Befriend a hot coworker, then sleep with him for months and forget you were supposed to be doing an experiment at all.

“Ugh.” Eliza scratched out what she’d written and stared at the words, her mind turning, turning, turning like a wind turbine.

Her book had come to a screeching halt over the last few weeks, and she could see why. She was back to giving advice that she wasn’t taking herself. This six-month experiment was supposed to be about going analog and experiencing the dating world that way. She was supposed to be putting herself out there, meeting new people, going on dates. She pulled out her day planner and flipped through the pages.

The proof of her failure to do so was right in front of her. She hadn’t been on a date since Valentine’s Day. Not an official one at least. She couldn’t call what she and Beckham were doing—watching movies, eating together, and hooking up—dates. That wasn’t a label allowed in their whatever-they-were-doing arrangement. But those nights had certainly filled up most of her calendar. Every night that they were together, she drew a little B in the bottom corner of that day in her planner. She told herself she was keeping the record for research purposes, but now she didn’t like what she was seeing.

It was obvious when the shift had happened. The night she had read to Beckham on the phone had changed things. The B’s started showing up two and three times a week after that. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but weeks later, she could see that it had been the start of her journey down a really dangerous path.

After that ridiculously hot phone sex that she still couldn’t believe she’d had, they’d stayed on the phone talking—about life, about movies, about random things—until deep into the night. She’d woken up the next morning with her phone dead on the bed next to her, having fallen asleep without ending the call.

She wasn’t experienced at this kind of friends-with-benefits setup, but things like all-night phone conversations had seemed…not so casual. Thoughts of Beckham began invading her mind during the quiet parts of her day—and every night. She found herself texting him when she had a random idea or thought just to hear what he had to say on the topic. And he’d come over to her place at least twice a week. They’d fallen into an easy rhythm of hanging out and hooking up. And even though he never stayed over, it never felt like a booty call. It felt like…a relationship.

Yet, when Valentine’s Day rolled around, Beckham had said he had to work, and she’d found herself on a date with Will. The dinner had been great. The conversation lively. But when he’d tried to kiss her, she’d given him her cheek. She’d wanted to call Beckham.

This was not how this was supposed to work.

She couldn’t write her book because she wasn’t doing what she was supposed to be doing. This book wasn’t about how to develop a crush on your unavailable friend. That would be a super-shitty book. With a terrible ending.

And this week was driving home the problem with a heavy hammer. When Beckham was coming over all the time, she could distract herself from the fact that she had wandered way off course from her plan. Who needed to think about books and projects and long-term life goals when she had a smoking-hot friend who could screw her up against the wall of her kitchen and make her forget her own name? Time with him had become some version of a drug.

But like a drug, when it was taken away, she felt the loss on all levels.

She stared at the current week in her day planner. There were no B’s to be found. Beckham had been out on a remote job this week, working on some computer breach at a company in Baton Rouge. So there’d been no visits. No hookups. They’d exchanged a phone call and a few texts, but he’d been busy and it’d just been casual conversation. Beckham fell back into that easy, friendly vibe with seemingly no problem navigating blurry lines. He seemed to be adept at turning the intimacy dial up and down with ease.

Eliza, on the other hand, had a dial that was getting stuck on high volume. The reality of that had hit her this morning. She’d walked into work, looked at his locked door, and her chest had hurt. She realized with dread that she freakingmissedhim. Not like a casualOh, I wish he was around to hang out. Not even a physical ache of missing him in her bed. But like really, really missing him. In a way that felt bone deep. She possibly was…pining.

Andthatwas a big problem.

When she’d agreed to this arrangement with Beckham, it’d seemed like a good solution—a practical one, too. A no-strings-attached fun affair while she went on dates with guys with real partner potential. But that was not what this had turned into for her. Her brain apparently only had a set amount of designated space for male companionship, and right now that space was filled up to the rafters with Beckham Carter. No other guy had a chance at wedging the door open and getting into her head, much less her bed or her heart. She’d already put off Will twice since Valentine’s Day, claiming schedule conflicts when he’d tried to set up another date.

And she definitely hadn’t done a damn thing on this list of suggestions she’d made for her book.

She sighed, ripped out the page from her notebook, and tossed it toward the trash can, missing it completely. She leaned back in her desk chair, cold nausea moving through her. She knew the answer. Hated it. But knew it.

She spent her days trying to help her clients make the healthy choice, not the easy choice. There was a clear healthy choice in this situation.

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