Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
A few days later, after the episode aired, I was gratified by all the comments on our socials from listeners telling me I’d made them feel seen. That they often needed to take breaks between long periods of serial dating, and family and friends made remarks and comments that were unhelpful. Like how “They weren’t getting any younger” and “You won’t find anyone if you don’t look.” There was even a comment from a person who identified as asexual and how she was constantly pressured to date by family who didn’t understand. She’d turned my quote, “I think we should normalize women making the decision to focus on themselves instead of pursuing a romantic connection” into a reel that got so many thousands of likes, I was blown away.
It reminded me that I didn’t need to be dating to be useful on the podcast. That I had things to say and shockingly, people wanted to listen. That night, I sat down and rearranged some of my schedule to fit in more episodes. Just as I was finishing up, I got a few texts from Sebastian.
Listened to your episode. You’re amazing.
But I miss you.
It’s been four days without Lily.
Come over to the flat tomorrow.
I’ll order takeaway.
And because I was apparently a masochist, I replied.
Make it Thai and I’ll be there.
Two seconds later, my phone beeped again.
You got it. Can’t wait to see you.
CHAPTER TWENTY
SEBASTIAN
During a slow moment in the football match the lads and I were watching on TV, I glanced at my phone again to see if Lily had texted to say she was on her way. It felt like forever since I’d seen her.
Harry nudged me. “What’s going on?”
I frowned at him. He was lounged next to me on our large sectional, a can of cold beer in hand. Zac was sprawled at the other end of the sofa, sipping on his beer, eyes on the Caley United game.
“Nothing’s going on.”
“You keep looking at your phone.”
“Lily’s coming over. I was checking if she’d texted.”
“You didn’t say Lily was coming.” Harry scowled. “Thought this was a lads’ evening in.”
Considering we lived together and saw each other every day, I wouldn’t be guilted about inviting Lily. “No one said that. I haven’t seen Lily in ages.”
“Since you became friends with that girl, you have become the shittiest wingman ever,” Zac opined, eyes still on the screen. “And I have a suspicion you haven’t gotten laid since.”
Harry grimaced. “I don’t get it. Why are you spending time with this girl if you’re not getting anything from her? She’s a little fuller”—he gestured with his hands—“than my usual taste, but those curves are nicely compacted. Any bloke with a working dick would hit that.”
Zac groaned under his breath.
Probably because he could tell I was seconds from punching my best mate in the face. “You talk about Lily like that again, and you and I will have problems, Harry. Real fucking problems.”
Harry blanched. “We talk about girls like that all the time.”
“No, you talk about girls like that all the time. I just haven’t called you on your bullshit until now. Lily is my friend. You don’t disrespect my friends. You hear me?” I seethed.
Raising his palms defensively, Harry nodded. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry. I like Lily. You know I do. I just … I don’t get it. Why aren’t you dating her? You’re not sleeping with other girls, so you might as well be in a committed relationship.”
“We’re just friends.” I scrubbed a hand over my face as I looked back at the game. “I think my mum pushing all these girls on me has messed with my head. I’m afraid if I even try to go home with someone, it’ll turn out she was sent by my mother.”
“That’s disturbing,” Zac offered.
“I know.”
Harry clamped a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I get it. Why don’t I do some reconnaissance on some luscious ladies so you can get laid?”
I shot him a look. “Harry, mate, I love you like a brother. But you are not setting me up with a woman like a pimp.”
Zac snorted on a swallow of beer and started coughing.
Harry grinned. “Shit. Sorry. Didn’t mean for it to come off weird. I was thinking—”
“Keen’s got the ball!” Zac rasped out, throwing an arm toward the TV.
With that we were dragged back into a game that suddenly got exciting.
Before moving to Edinburgh, none of us had been into Scottish teams because we supported English teams. I’d been a Merseyside FC supporter my whole life. I’d indoctrinated Harry and Zac into my love of the club. However, when we’d moved to Edinburgh, we started following the Scottish Professional League and had become firm fans of Caledonia United. They were the underdogs, always third behind the two largest Glasgow teams, but with Callan Keen, the country’s top midfielder, in their ranks, Caley had become a force to be reckoned with.