True Bliss (3 page)

My mother is frequently reminding me that I need a man to take care of me. “A worthwhile man who treats you like the princess you are.” I kind of wish I hadn't had the whole 'happily ever after' idea drilled into me from a young age. All the stories are the same; the knight in shining armor sweeps the princess off her feet and they ride off into the sunset. My brothers did it with their wives, and my father did it with my mom. That leaves me as the only single person left in my family.

So back to my dating profile, I'd needed to choose a username. Something non personal, not easily identifiable, and of course, something to garner attention....well, the type of attention I'm looking for. Mac had grabbed the laptop from me and giggled as she entered a name and pushed submit before I could even say yes or no.

With a huge gulp of my wine, I'd looked at my profile and choked as I saw my name.

But sure enough, within minutes I'd had my first 'kiss' from an anonymous admirer.

An hour later, I'd received four photos of various erect and multi-sized cocks. After giggling like middle schoolers in sex education class, I'd updated my profile.

P.S. No cock pictures or requests for naked photos from me. I'm sure you're more than happy with your penis and are excited to show it around to strangers, but I'm looking for a person who doesn't just think with their trouser snake, pork sword, or purple-headed womb ferret. Thanks all the same.

When Daniel arrived with three pizzas under his arm, Mac had taken great pleasure in pulling him over to the computer and showing him our achievement for the day. Shaking his head, he'd quietly chuckled before turning serious. “Just be careful, and make sure we know where you are and who you're with.”

I like Daniel. He's like my new big brother, and he's made Mac the happiest I've ever seen her in our whole fifteen-year friendship.

Okay, back to my current date with Roger.

When we meet, he sheepishly apologizes for lying about his age, explaining that he didn't think I'd give him a chance if I knew he was twenty years older than me. Too fucking right I wouldn't have! But because we are both here now anyway, I agree to have a quick drink with him.

What a mistake that is!

Once we get inside and find a table, he sits down opposite me, not stopping to pull out my chair, or offering to take my coat when I slip it off. Then he proceeds to order a glass of cider. Freaking cider! Unfortunately that wasn't my first sign that this date is going to be a one-time deal.

Then, with a niggling feeling I'm being watched, I scan the room to find a set of familiar dark blue eyes staring at me. Knowing that I'm looking good, and not wanting to show how embarrassed I am, I push my shoulders back and keep my attention on my date, and not on the sexy, brooding, simply perfect specimen of a man across the bar who won't take his eyes off me.

But as much as I try, I can't concentrate. Five minutes of listening to Roger tell me about himself and I know that this date is a lost cause. 

What I've found out about the aging Roger is that not only is he old enough to be my father, he's also an accountant who works for City Hall, a job he's had since he left college in the 80's. He's also never been out of the country, still lives down the road from his parents, and likes to play chess in his spare time. He's never had a speeding ticket, never been arrested, and his hair looks like a toupee on crack. I'm a hairdresser, so I always check out people's hair, and this monstrosity on his head...he's swished it to the left side of his face, and has so much product in it...I'm scared to strike a match near him for fear of setting him alight.

When he starts to discuss the merits of chess with me, I decide to chance a look toward Zander, my cheeks flaming as he catches me looking at him. Damn, he's looking hot. He's wearing a pair of black slacks that hug him in all the right places, and a white wife beater underneath an open dark blue dress shirt that makes his eyes look like the bluest of oceans that you just want to dive naked into.

I haven't seen or talked to him since the night I was drunk and tried to seduce him. He'd saved me from a guy I'd been dancing with in this very bar. The guy started to come on very strong, very quickly, and when he wouldn't take no for an answer, getting forceful with his hand pushing under my skirt, Zander stepped in, punched him in the face, then grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the bar.

As soon as he'd hailed a cab and ushered me inside, he gave the driver my address and wrapped his arms around me as I cried into his shirt. My body shook violently as the reality of the moment suddenly hit home. He'd rubbed his hand up and down my arm, kissing my head and murmuring words that to this day I can't remember, but I do know he calmed me down and made me feel safe. It was exactly what I'd needed in that moment, a moment that has forever been etched into my brain. 

But me, being drunk, stupid, and totally enamored with my knight in shining armor, pushed my luck as soon as we were inside my apartment and went to kiss him. He'd met my lips with enthusiasm, and the kiss was like one of those that you read about in romance novels. Our tongues tangled together, and our lips meshed as if we were made for each other. Fireworks were exploding around us, the world stopped, and it felt like all of my dreams had come true in that one kiss. But when I pulled back and asked him if he wanted to spend the night with me, he froze. He'd stared at me for what seemed like forever before shaking his head and leading me down the hallway to find my bedroom, telling me to get into bed. He'd returned with a large glass of water and two Advil, kissed me goodbye on the forehead, then turned to leave before I could conjure up a response. Minutes later, I'd blacked out.

Tonight is the first time I've seen him since that night, and as the memory of my embarrassing behavior comes flooding back to me, I have to look away as a blush takes over my face. It's still just as mortifying now as it was the morning after. I haven't even told Mac about what happened. That was the night she freaked out and ended up at Daniel's apartment before running out on him again in the middle of the night.

“Ah, Kate, I think I better go. It's getting close to 10 p.m., and I need to get home to feed my cat, Mr. Buttons.”

And there it is. The final nail in the date's coffin.

“Absolutely Roger, thanks for having a drink with me. I'll be okay getting home, you just worry about getting home to Mr. Buttons,” I say, masking the huge relief I'm feeling at not having to explain how I won't be seeing Roger the Accountant again.

He stands up and takes a step toward me, holding his hand out to shake it. Who the hell shakes their date's hand?

“Have a good night, Roger. I've just got to go to the ladies. See you around.”

I shake his hand awkwardly before standing up and walking toward the bar, stopping when I realize that Zander is no longer at the bar.

I catch the eye of the barman. “Hi. Sorry, but is the man who was sitting here still around?”

“Nope,” he says with a sly grin. “But since I live with the guy, I'm sure I can pass on a message for you.”

“Oh shit. Um…no. Don't do that. Thanks anyway,” I reply, flustered as I rush out the door and jump into the first cab I find.

Shit! Now Zander will know I asked about him, god knows what he'll make of that. Looks like my Friday night is a total disaster all round.

KATE

I come home to an empty house and a note from Mac saying that she's spending the weekend at Daniel's apartment but to call if I need her.

I grab my phone as I'm kicking my gorgeous black heels off my feet, stepping into my plush pink slippers that make me feel like I'm walking on clouds.

Kate: You better be having a better night than me. Boring Roger the accountant who likes to play chess, was a bust. Date from hell #1 out of the way.

Mac: Aww hon, sorry you had a bad night. If I was there, I'd put a Channing Tatum movie on and eat ice-cream with you while you finish off that bottle of white in the fridge.

Kate: You know me so well! Give Superman a hug from me, and tell him he'd better be looking after my girl and little superhero.

Mac: He has. Twice, in fact ;)

Kate: Enough you horny bitch! See you tomorrow.

Proving that my best friend knows me oh so well, I grab a wine glass and the half empty bottle of pinot that's in my fridge, and pad my way across to the couch, curling myself up into the corner and murmuring sighs of contentment as the first mouthful makes it's way down my throat.

Letting out a huge sigh, I realize that I'm spending another night sitting at home by myself at...yep 10 p.m., and drowning my sorrows about the sorry state of my love life. Granted, Roger was just my first online date, but if he's anything to go by, I should be running for the hills. Or the nearest convent. If I wasn't so determined to give it a real shot, I'd be closing up shop now, resigning myself to a single life with lots of cats, and being aunty to Mac and Daniel's kids.

But that's definitely not what I want, and I'm determined, so I grab the laptop off the coffee table in front of me and boot it up, bringing up the Chicago Singles website and logging in. I see a reminder that my date with Roger has come and gone. How insightful, little website. Can you also tell when the date is full of shit and boring as hell? Because that could have saved me a hell of a lot of effort!

I check to see whether Boring Roger has rated our date yet, and almost spit out my mouthful of wine when I see he rated it four out of five hearts. What the fuck! He must be more deluded than I thought. That date was as dull as dishwater. The only thing exciting about it was my brief encounter with Zander across the bar. And as embarrassing as that was, he still managed to get a way hotter response from my body than Roger could ever achieve.

Dammit. Why did Zander have to be such a gentleman? For one night, he had the chance to just be a normal guy and think with his dick. Why couldn't he have just taken me up on my offer and given me one night of mind-blowing, life-changing sex?  It would have been amazing...the way he moves his body, the way he carries himself...god, just the way he looks at you. It all screams he's a guy who knows what he's doing between the sheets. He didn't want me to regret him in the morning, but one look at that man, and that is a whole world of regret worth having. Over and over again. Multiple orgasms worth of pain right there.

I focus back on the rate your date screen in front of me and decide that if I'm going to give this internet dating thing a real shot, it's best to start it honestly. I'm not going to lie about my date with Boring Roger. He may have rated me four out of five hearts, but I think he may be delusional.

Downing the rest of my glass of wine for confidence, I click the mouse and rate my date zero out of five hearts. My reasoning? I'm not doing my fellow female daters any favors by lying about Roger's dating prowess. If that makes me a bitch, so be it. At least I'm an honest bitch.

I wake up to the smell of bacon wafting through my apartment. In my sleepy haze, I have a mini freak out. Did last night go differently? Oh god, please tell me I didn't drag Boring Roger home with me. “Mac?” I call out.

“Yeah, it's only me. I've made breakfast,” she answers as I breathe a huge sigh of relief. My head feels slightly unhappy with me. With a drink at the bar, and half a bottle of wine on an empty stomach when I got home, it's no wonder really.

I roll out of bed and sleepily stumble into my bathroom to do my morning business before grabbing my robe and Playboy bunny slippers and heading out into the kitchen.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” my best friend greets me as I slump down onto a bar stool next to the kitchen counter. I murmur appreciation as she slides a steaming hot cup of coffee under my nose.

“Thanks. What are you doing here?” I ask, lifting my head long enough to look up at her.

She leans back against the counter and rubs her growing belly. “Our little superhero here decided it was time to wake Mommy up, and since I might have worn Daddy out last night, I thought I'd come home and make you breakfast. Sounded like you might've needed me after your dud date, and I wasn't here. I'm so sorry.”