“I work with Paris. You know that,” he said, smiling at me with his perfectly white teeth, his eyes a delicate hazel. At least he had kept his gaze above my chest line. I’d put that in the plus column. Most men couldn’t keep their eyes off my ass or my tits. Yes, I had curves, but I didn’t want the world to look at only them.
“Oh, I know. But I know she and Prior do completely different things even when they work on the same projects. I just wanted to know what you did.”
He smiled again, perfectly pleasant.
He was pleasant. He had a friendly, soothing tone. He didn’t stare too long or venture onto any topics that could become perilous.
He was entirely sensible.
And I was bored out of my mind.
For all I knew, it was me. Brian would probably have a great time with anybody else. He’d likely laugh it up, tell jokes, and give the girl tingles to the point where she’d want to crawl across the table and rip his tie right off his body.
That was not going to happen with me.
Maybe it was me. Perhaps I was the dud and not the man in front of me.
But as he began droning on about programming in a monotone, I was terrified that maybe it was both of us.
I didn’t know what had happened. I used to be good at dating. Not only before Nate but also after him. I had never been one to shy away from or hide from the opposite sex. If I wanted to go out on a date, I did. Men asked me out all the time.
Or rather, they used to. Now, guys hit on me awkwardly or made me feel like they didn’t want to get too close because I was the icy bitch queen.
I had to stop that.
I needed to be more personable.
But right now, I was genuinely bored.
And I hated it.
“That’s so interesting,” I said as Brian finished his explanation.
He smiled softly and shook his head. “It’s not. My job is tedious, but I love it.”
That made me pause. “You can love what you do and still find it tedious?” I asked, confused. I didn’t like to do boring things. I did the tasks I needed to do that weren’t the most energetic or interesting. Yet I didn’t know if I could ever do those tasks for my livelihood. I had walked away from the things that had been set out in front of me and had found true joy even if I was having problems with my current project.
“I don’t know if I’m saying it quite right,” Brian began. “I enjoy what I do. But I know that not everybody does. I love playing with numbers and trying to find answers. But at the end of the day, I have to look at a specific number and decide if that is the right one or not compared to all the other ones next to it.”
“That can be fun, I guess. It’s like a puzzle.”
He smiled, and once again looked perfectly pleasant. Why couldn’t I have feelings for him? “A monotonous one, according to most people. But that’s fine by me. I enjoy making the mundane fun.”
That made me smile. It didn’t sound boring.
“And after a long day of that, coming home to my stamp collection is what makes my days. That and puzzles. You were right. I do like puzzles.”
I held back a groan. I liked puzzles, too. But I didn’t sound that enthusiastic when I talked about them.
Dinner came, and we enjoyed a satisfying meal—me a light pasta dish with capers and other seasonings. He ordered buttered noodles and chicken without salt. I wasn’t even sure there was any seasoning in the butter.
Brian was bland. Completely dull. And so was his meal.
I wondered what would happen if I shook the pepper at him. Would he sneeze, or would he run away in fear?
I inwardly groaned. I was back to being the icy bitch queen again, if only in my thoughts.
We talked about nothing in particular, and I smiled, trying to sound interested. But I wasn’t. And I hated myself a little bit.
After dinner, we split the check, and it just reminded me of Nate, and what I had told him. The fact that I hadn’t let Brian pay because it hadn’t felt like a real date should have grated. Instead, I only thought of my ex.
And I did not like that. I didn’t like that Nathan was always on my mind.
“I wanted to say thank you,” Brian said, his hands behind his back as he nodded at me.
“No, thank you for a wonderful night,” I added.
“I appreciate you dealing with Boring Brian,” he added dryly.
I blinked up at him, confused. “What do you mean?” I asked.
“I know the nicknames I’ve been given my entire life. I am boring, but as I said, I like what I do. So, thank you for sticking with me the whole night and being pleasant and wonderful. But I think we both know this isn’t going to work out for us. You need someone and something a little spicier. And I need the same.”
He gave me a nod before walking away, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had attacked me.
He needed spicier? He didn’t even like spice on his food. Wait, did that mean I was bland, too? Did he not want two lackluster people alone in the same room?
I let out a slight growl, grateful that he couldn’t hear me.
Would that spice him up?
I went to my car, threw my bag onto the passenger seat and then winced because it was a lovely bag, and I didn’t want to scratch the leather. When I turned on the engine, I did my best not to peel out of the parking lot. Would a sad person speed out of the parking lot in a very nice Audi?
Only if they were trying to make a point.
“What is wrong with me?” I muttered.
I made my way home, annoyed with myself. I was not bland. I was in a blind date pact with three of my friends. Unexciting people didn’t do things like that. But maybe if I hadn’t been mundane to begin with, it wouldn’t have been necessary. Perhaps I would have been able to find somebody without needing help. Clearly, I was the problem. I hadn’t been pushing people away for my entire life—they were running away.
When I got home, I slid off my shoes but kept the dress on. It was a slightly more demure outfit than the one I had worn for Nate. No. The one that I had worn for myself on a date that ended up being with Nate. There was a difference.
I went to my wine fridge, pulled out a bottle, and poured myself an enormous glass. I was halfway done with it when I got a text from Dakota.
Dakota: Did I leave my Tupperware for the cupcakes at your place?
Me: Yes, do you need it? I can drop it off.
Dakota: No, you’re on your date. I’m sorry.
Dakota: Wait. You’re on your date. Why are you answering your texts?
Me: Brian was a dud. And so am I. Do you need me to drop off the Tupperware?
I looked at my glass of wine and figured if I stopped now, I could still drive. Or Uber over there and back.
Dakota: No, I can send someone for it. Thank you so much. And we’ll get you another date. I’m sorry!
She sent a bunch of heart emojis, and I sighed, setting my phone down on the counter. I took another sip of my wine and wondered how I was doing this.
When had it gotten this bad?
Sure, it had been a long time since I had found true happiness or even some semblance of it. But I wasn’t dull. I wasn’t a dud. Or maybe I was. The fact that I couldn’t tell anymore was further evidence that I was completely lost.
I pulled out Dakota’s Tupperware and set it next to the front door, waiting for Macon to pick it up. I knew Dakota had an outing the next day for Joshua’s class, and I felt terrible that I had kept the cupcake container. I should have dropped it off before now. But I had forgotten, too lost in my memories and work.