Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
But when I got accidentally pregnant with Ripley at nearly thirty-seven—by a man I didn’t even know how to track down—everything changed. I realized in that moment that I was ready for a whole new life. A stable one, where I raised my baby in my hometown of Seattle with the help of my parents—but, mostly, my amazing mother, who was over the moon when she learned of my pregnancy.
After getting that positive test result, I took the next flight home, moved in with my parents, and ultimately gave birth five weeks early with complications. A year after that, we found out Mom had stage four cancer and precious little time left. Looking back, it’s no wonder I’ve been a train wreck since that chaotic, painful time.
“Okay, but what if a guy’s insanely hot, even though he’s not serious boyfriend material?” Victoria asks. “You’re telling us you’d pass on the chance to smash a guy like that?” My best friends since college are well aware of my lifelong, high-powered libido and seize-the-day attitude when it comes to enjoying hot sex with hot men. Thankfully, they’ve always accepted me for who I am and have never looked down on me or shamed me in any way.
“I’ve already had sex with plenty of hot men,” I reply. “I’m ready for something more, and I’m not going to find that if I keep wasting my time with sex that’s obviously not going to lead anywhere.”
We continue talking about my romantic aspirations for a few more minutes. But after a while, I suggest a change of topic, at which point Victoria nudges Selena next to her and says, “Speaking of younger men, tell everyone about your sexy little wrong-number text exchange with that adorable twenty-five-year-old today.”
Laughing, Selena tells the group the whole story, which in a nutshell, is this: Earlier today, she received a lengthy, wrong-number text from an unknown number. In his text, a guy named Grayson invited someone named Katie out to dinner after meeting her last night at Captain’s—a fancy bar that’s right down the street from this very restaurant. Selena says, “I replied to the poor guy to let him know I’m not Katie, and that he should double-check the number she gave him last night. When he confirmed she’d definitely given him my number, I started dispensing dating advice to the poor kid. Well, one thing led to another and I said I might meet him at Captain’s tonight for drinks after dinner with my friends, but only to give him some more dating advice, if so.”
“Selena asked him for a selfie, and he sent three,” Victoria interjects excitedly.
“For research purposes only,” Selena insists. “I wanted to see what Grayson’s working with, so I could give him the best possible advice.”
“Did you give him your photo in return?” Lucy asks, waggling her eyebrows.
“Of course, not. I’m not interested in dating the boy. I was merely trying to help him figure out why he’s not having any luck with women.”
We all express skepticism. In fact, we’re convinced Selena had to have felt some kind of spark with the young buck, or she never would have agreed to meet him in person. We ask to see the selfies Grayson sent, and when we do, we’re pleasantly surprised at how cute he is. How gorgeous his smile. In fact, we’re all surprised the poor guy is having any dating difficulties with women at all.
“It’s rough out there for a shy, nerdy guy with very little experience and zero game,” Selena explains. “Grayson said he was in a long-term relationship with his college girlfriend. This is his first time being single as an adult, and he’s not very good at flirting.”
We all agree Selena absolutely must go to Captain’s tonight to meet up with Grayson.
“Only if you all come with me,” Selena replies. “I don’t want him misunderstanding and thinking I’m meeting him for an actual date.”
Well, that’s an easy one. At least, for our core friend group. Our two plus-ones both beg off—our college girl, Frankie, because she’s already planning to meet some friends for drinks at another bar; and my yoga friend, Geraldine, because, she says, her “bar-hopping days are long over” and she needs to wake up early tomorrow for a sunrise hike with friends.
Our plan settled, Selena asks for the check and generously pays the whole thing, despite our group’s protestations; and then, our entire group heads outside into the chilly Seattle night. After saying our goodbyes to our two plus-ones, the group, other than me, heads off toward Captain’s down the street.
“I’ll meet you there,” I call to my friends, and they wave and keep walking. “Hey, Geraldine, wait up!” When I reach her, I muster the courage to ask, “Would you, by any chance, be open to being set up with a handsome, kind-hearted, fit and active, financially secure older man?”