Page 17 of Finding Their Place

A woman with a potty mouth as my mom would say. Definitely a plus in my opinion.

Me: Tell me about it. Just my two cents here…I’ve hired and had to let go over a dozen guys in the past five years since I took the reins of my dad’s company.

Haley: Maybe you ought to start hiring women.

She included a smirk and wink emojis—and she had a point.

Me: Looking for a new job?

I asked her as a half-joke but bookmarked her statement for later thought.

Haley: My roommate might be. He’s a struggling actor who’s washing dishes at a diner rather than shining behind a camera.

A male roommate.

That had to be an interesting situation. Rarely did the opposite sex living together remain platonic or not have weird vibes going on. I left that one alone for the time being too and went back to the fifty questions thing, learning she didn’t care for sport of any sort—possible checkmark on the negative, but I didn’t really need that in a woman to enjoy her company.

We both liked the outdoors, a good glass of wine—mine with dinner mostly while I preferred a cold brew for chilling. Movies and relaxing were high on the list of our favorite to-dos, as was eating out because we didn’t like to slave away in the kitchen.

She mentioned her roommate cooked, and my mind went back to their relationship. I decided I had to ask before she drew me in even deeper than she already had and he ended up being the kind of negative checkmark that could break what we’d begun building.

Male roommate, huh? I went fishing to see what she’d give me in response.

Haley: He’s gay, unfortunately.

I mused over how she’d worded her answer for a few seconds, wondering about possible unrequited love.

Me: Since you said it’s unfortunate, I’m guessing he’s either hot as fuck or he’s everything else you want in a man.

Haley: He’s both. You should see him in a pair of gray sweats.

Yeah, I was all about men in sweats—but I had a definite preference when it came to build and how said pants hugged their ass and groin. Body type? I asked, still fishing and expecting bluntness like she’d been giving me throughout our messaged conversation.

Haley: Ripped as hell but not bulky, luscious abs, the sexy as fuck V…he’s a total thirst trap.

I found myself laughing again.

Me: I think I need to meet this roommate of yours.

Haley: Nope. Nuh uh. Not until I decide if you and I have a shot at something first because that delicious asshole will entangle all your feels, and you’ll both leave me on the side of the road.

Outright laughter burst through my living room.

Me: I like you, Haley.

Haley: You’ve got more pluses than checks, so I might like you too, Wyatt.

“Fuck.” I still grinned and shot off another message before I overthought what went through my head.

Me: I know we said we’d chat and get to know each other before meeting up, but I’m intrigued as fuck. Love your honesty, and you’ve got a shit ton more checkmarks on my fuck yeah list than not. What do you say? Up for dinner and drinks one night sooner rather than later?

I waited, and the more time that ticked past made me question my suggestion. Perhaps I’d jumped the gun. Maybe she thought I wasn’t a man of my word after asking her out when I said we’d go slow for a couple weeks.

Haley: It’s a date, Wyatt.

Haley: Just don’t get your hopes up or have plans to weasel your way inside my panties by night’s end.

Chuckling and dick swelling, I messaged back my assurance that I could be a patient man—if the prize would be worth it in the end.

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