Three Blind Dates (Dating by Numbers, #1)

by Meghan Quinn

It’s the people in our life who mold us, and I’m far from being molded completely.”

“Yeah, about a guy who was jogging by you this morning. You said his penis was swaying like the wrecking ball in Miley Cyrus’s music video and he needed to wear man panties rather than free-ballin’ it.”

ShopGirl

Christmas tree avatar,

avatar is a business tie.

WindsorKnot.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m really nervous right now.”

I mentally applaud Going in Blind. No, an applaud is to tame, I need something more meaningful. I mentally ass slap them, right on the glute, hand to skin, leaving a red mark, a red mark of love. Nothing says thank you like a branded red-slap to the old buttocks.

I always think making friends as an adult is hard, but finding someone to spend the rest of your life with, now that’s the ultimate challenge.

“There’s no way in hell I would be able to say goodbye to you forever tonight. I not only want to see you again, but I need to see you again.”

“If I start, I won’t stop. I know myself too well. You’ve consumed me tonight, Noely, and I know if I kiss you, if I feel your lips against mine, there is no way I’d be able to say good night like a gentleman. So, from a distance I will say, thank you for an amazing night. I look forward to our second date.”

“I’m ready.”

Good morning, Noely. Last night, I got absolutely zero sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I should have kissed you, and I’m regretting my decision now. Please forgive me and if you accept our second date, you are being warned now, I’m claiming that kiss I so stupidly forgot to capture last night. Jack

ShopGirl, You’re more than welcome for the flowers. I have a confession: I’ve done absolutely nothing at work this morning and you’re to blame. Not only did I get zero sleep, but I wound up watching your show, unable to take my eyes off you, off those lips I didn’t get to taste. It wasn’t until my assistant snapped at me that I turned the TV off and tried to get some work done. You’ve ruined me, ShopGirl. Jack

WindsorKnot, I would like to take the blame for your lack of productivity this morning but I’m afraid I’m going to have to place the blame on you. Maybe if you actually kissed me last night, you wouldn’t have to daydream about what my lips taste like. My suggestion: next time you see me, kiss me. Noely

ShopGirl, Your boldness doesn’t go unnoticed. Being a gentleman was my number-one priority but now I know who I’m dealing with, I’m prepared to drop the gentleman act and take what I want. This Saturday, it’s going to be you, me, the open waves, and my lips on yours. Until then, put me out of my misery and tell me something about yourself I don’t know. Spare me and give me a detail about you to help me get through these next few mundane days. Jack

WindsorKnot, Have you ever wondered what it would look like if you took a hockey puck and split it in half? What you would see inside? I was convinced there was some kind of lucky charm inside one, so like the genius I was at twelve, I decided to find out for myself. With bravado and stupidity coursing through me, I placed a hockey puck on the back deck, roared my dad’s chainsaw to life, and cut a line right through . . . the back porch, missing the puck completely. That was the moment I thought, if my parents really love me, like truly love me, they won’t kill me over this. Thank God for unconditional love, right? Your turn. Noely

Dearest ShopGirl, Have you ever thought about why a man gives a woman flowers? Why not a bag of groceries? Or a box of light bulbs, you know, something practical. Instead, we spend—or at least I do—an hour picking out the perfect bouquet, one that I not only think will make you deeply appreciate the gesture, but one that represents your beauty. I look for a bouquet that reminds me of your sweet smell, one that has the same pink blush as your cheeks, with a touch of your fiery red outfit. Sending a bouquet of flowers is a carefully mapped-out equation to gain your likeness, and yet, they die in a few days. So why not a carton of eggs instead? P.S. Did you get the flowers? Jack

Dear Bouquet Aficionado, A carton of eggs? A box of lightbulbs? Practical yes, romantic, not so much. I can go out and get myself a carton of eggs anytime I want, but flowers, those are special. There is something about receiving a bouquet from a man that sends a thrill of excitement through my body. It tells me I was on his mind, it shows me he cares, it gives me the impression that not only did I make my mark, but he wants to woo me. So is that what you’re doing, Jack? Are you wooing me? P.S. I got the flowers and they were gorgeous. Thank you. Noely

Dear Woo-ee, There is something you need to know about me. I’m a ruthless businessman. In the boardroom, I’m a brilliant shark who makes split-second decisions about multi-million-dollar deals. I’ve made grown men cry using only words, and I don’t take no for an answer. I get what I want, when I want it . . . Why am I telling you this? Because I know this is not the man I presented to you. You have seen the other side of me, the side of me that spends his time enjoying the gentle waves of the beach, who reminisces about potatoes with red eyes, and who will spend an hour analyzing every bouquet in a flower shop. Yes, Noely. I’m wooing you. Jack

Dear Ruthless Businessman, You get what you want, when you want it? Is that outside of the boardroom as well? Because I’m going to let you in on a little secret: I don’t fold easily. Even with your big-bad-wolf businessman attitude, I will challenge you. I will be sure to make you work for what you want; it won’t be handed to you. Do you think you’re ready for that? Are you up for my defiance? Noely

Dear Defiant One, What’s wooing without a little challenge? I do have a question though. That kiss I so stupidly skipped out on, the one that’s up for grabs on Saturday, will that be a kiss I have to work to get, or will it be something that’s easily handed to me? I ask so I can prepare myself for the amount of wooing required. On a scale from one to ten, ten being the highest amount of wooing, what are we talking here? A box of lightbulbs and a single daisy? Will that guarantee that kiss I so desperately need? Jack

Dear Desperate for a Smooch, Despite my inkling to say yes to a box of lightbulbs due to my lack of bulbs in my house, I’m afraid you’re going to have to bring your A-game. Why, you might ask? Because I need to make sure you’re not just all talk. Actions, Jack. The best wooers, woo with action. Noely

Dearest ShopGirl, Happy Thursday. Actions speak louder than words, I’m well aware. Tell me, did a little brightness enter your life today? Jack

Dear Expert Wooer, Funny thing happened to me. I was getting ready for my show, and one of the production assistants brought me a purple box. There was no name attached to the parcel so I was unsure what it was, until I opened the lid and found a dozen, beautiful energy-efficient lightbulbs. I might have snorted, but I’m neither confirming nor denying such a response. All I have to say is, my house is brightly lit this evening and when I look around, light cascading and bouncing off my walls, all I can think about is you. You’re bringing your A-game, and I think I might be in trouble. Noely.

Dearest Noely, I pride myself in being honest, so I’ll tell you this. You’re in trouble. I have my eyes set on one thing and one thing alone. You. This Saturday, you, me, and a kiss that needs to be claimed. I’m coming for you, Noely. Jack

Taking another step forward, Jack laces his hand with mine, the one that’s fluffing my hair, and brings it to his chest as his other hand floats to the back of my neck, pulling me in close. My breath catches in my chest, my body stiffens, as he leans his head forward and slowly lowers his lips to mine. He’s going to kiss me . . . even with this hair. Inches from my lips, his minty breath tickles me when he says,

“I couldn’t wait until Saturday. Forgive me.”

And in seconds, his lips are slowly nipping across mine...

I melt, right here in my entryway with my light-socket hair, I melt into a giant puddle of swoon. One hand clasped to his chest, I trail my other hand to his lapel and grip tightly, not wanting him to go anywhere. At first he’s slow, methodically learning the way around my lips. But I can sense the minute he’s familiar from the way his tongue enticingly runs along my lips, parting them automatically. A low growl erupts from him as he pulls me even closer...

My veins heat up, my skin prickles with awareness, my muscles turn into liquid, barely holding up my body. Never in my life have I been kissed like this, with such passion, with such assertiveness, with such an all-consuming effect I can’t remember where I am. Pulling slightly away, his foreh...

“Fuck, you tast...

The somersaults in my stomach are on overdrive and the mishap of my hair is far from my mind un...

“Holy hell, what did you do to...

Dearest Noely, That hair . . . it’s very becoming of you. :) Jack

Dear Jack, If you know what’s good for you, you’re going to ignore what you saw tonight and remember me as the girl in the red dress with the red shoes and red lipstick . . . and straight hair. Noely

Dear Lady in Red, So on Saturday, if I ask you for tips on giving myself a perm, your answer is going to be . . .

Dearest Jack, Pushing your luck, Mr. Suit. I’d be careful if I were you, especially if you want a second kiss. Noely

Dear Noely, Cancelling my order for my at-home perm kit as we speak. Don’t want to jeopardize that second kiss. Jack

Dearest Noely, Checking in, how’s the hair? I know it’s early, but I thought I would try to catch you before you went on air. I’m kind of hoping for your sake you were able to straighten out your hair situation . . . no pun intended. For what it’s worth, I still thought you were beautiful with your curly hair. It just made you that much more endearing. Jack

Dear Considerate, Thank you for checking in. You’re so sweet. If you caught the show this morning, you would notice a lack of curls in my hair, because thankfully, all went well last night. Besides this one hair that keeps curling at the base of my neck no matter what I do. I just tuck that little defiant chunk of hair away. Speaking of the show, I want to talk to you about a segment we went live on today. When you see the show, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. Noely

RebelWithACause.

motorcycle,

Sassy, Told you I wouldn’t be dicking around with the “rules.” I want to see you again. The app suggested we go to a cooking class. I’m not much of a cook, but all I can envision is you in an apron. Now, this is something I have to see. There’s a class this coming Friday. Come cook dinner with me. Your rebel.

Rebel, Me in an apron? That’s what you’ve been envisioning? Clearly I didn’t tempt you enough last night. I must do better next time. Sassy P.S. Count me in for Friday.

Sassy, Did I forget to mention you weren’t wearing anything under the apron when I was daydreaming? That makes a huge difference. My mistake. I’ll be sure to remember to include such vital details next time. Your rebel P.S. I can’t wait to kiss those delicious lips of yours again.

Rebel, Your mistake has been forgiven but hasn’t gone unnoticed. Please be more specific next time . . . very specific. Sassy P.S. You never told me your top five romantic comedies like you promised.

Sassy, Don’t you worry. I’ll be very specific next time. By the way, for our Friday date, can I request you wear the dress you wore last night? I didn’t get a good enough look at it. Your rebel P.S. In no particular order; You’ve Got Mail, Overboard, When Harry Met Sally, My Big Fat Greek Wedding—that family is crazy, and Sixteen Candles.

Rebel, Unfortunately I need to inform you that said dress was retired last night after nearly showing off my lady areas far too many times. If you want, I can allow you to say goodbye to it on the hanger, but that’s the best I can do. Sassy P.S. Your selection not only pleases me, but makes me think you actually watched these movies. I would have pegged you for a Bruce Willis, Die Hard fanatic.

“There was dry-humping on the dance floor, a lot of wandering hands, and heightened senses. It got to the point that when we left, electricity was bouncing between us. He then took me to a cliff overlooking the ocean, practically laid me across his bike, and made out with me.”