Page 35 of Miss Matched

A few more. I’m exhausted after the first one. Realizing this is going to be a parade of women makes my head hurt.

Me: Looking forward to it.

I’m lying.

Kennedy: Just be nice. I’ll send you another name tomorrow.

Me: I’m being a perfect gentleman! She’s still fully clothed, I promise.

Text bubbles appear and disappear a few times, and it makes me smirk.

Kennedy: No blow jobs unless there’s going to be a second date. I’m running a business, not a prostitution ring.

Okay, so she does have a sense of humor after all.

Me: Hmm, now that you put it that way, maybe a second date isn’t such a bad idea.

Kennedy: Insert eye roll here.

Me: ;)

Kennedy: Stop texting and get back to your date.

Me: You texted me!

Kennedy: Well, now I’m not. We’ll talk tomorrow.

Me: Yes, Cupid.

I chuckle, and Samantha sighs across the table. One leg is crossed over the other, and her fingernails are tapping the side of her wineglass. She doesn’t smile until my phone is back in my pocket.

It’s not Samantha’s fault that this date isn’t going well. If I were into it, we’d probably both be having a much better time. Regaling each other with stories of what it was like for her to grow up in rural Mississippi, or how I almost blew up the chem lab senior year.

But someone else is on my mind. And that woman just texted me.

“Work?” Samantha asks, her stare dropping to my pocket.

I nod. After all, the board was the one who forced me into extreme measures with my dating life, so it’s not a complete lie.

“Business never sleeps. You done?” I ask her, realizing one bite of dessert is all she planned on eating.

Her smile turns to a frown, but she nods her head and stands anyway. She clings to my arm as we leave the restaurant, discreetly brushing her hand along my suit jacket and twining her fingers through mine.

“I’ve had a lovely time, Zac, and I’m not the least bit tired.” She bats her lashes up at me. “I’d love to see that million-dollar view of yours, if you’d like a nightcap.”

This is the point where I’d usually drag her into the car and give her a nightcap she’ll never forget. Rip her nearly sheer dress off her body with my teeth. Only this time, her body isn’t the one I want to uncover.

I hesitate as my car pulls up beside us.

“Tempting.” It’s not a lie. “I actually need to head to the office for a bit. Rain check?”

A sour pucker forms on her lips. “At ten at night on a Friday?”

I shrug as her eyes fill with disappointment. Twice in one night. This isn’t a look I’m used to seeing on a woman. Desire, yes. Pleasure, fuck yes. But dissatisfaction…

Samantha pushes herself against me, pressing her tits against my chest in what feels like a final attempt to turn my answer around. Her hands reach inside my jacket, and her fingernails lightly rake the sides of my stomach.

“Until next time.” She gets up on the tips of her toes for a kiss. She aims for my lips, but I turn, so she only catches cheek.

Nodding, she ducks into my car, and I tell the driver to take her wherever she wants to go. When I close the door, I know that’s the last time I’ll see her, and I have no doubt that she’ll find another man who will be happy that I passed on the chance.

She’s sweet enough, sexy enough, available enough.

But sometime between last Friday night and this one, enough stopped being enough for me.

It’s not too long before another car pulls up beside the curb, and I climb in, not sure how many more of these dates I’m going to be able to take.

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