“Yeah, just tired, I guess,” I lie, forcing a smile. The truth is, I’m tired of this—of the dates that go nowhere, the endless small talk, the hollow flirtations. It’s all starting to feel the same, and I’m realizing more and more that it’s not enough.
Nick finishes his taco and leans closer, his arm brushing against mine. “You know, Zara, I’ve had my eye on you for a while. You’re different from the other girls in the office. More fun, more… interesting.”
I chuckle softly, but there’s no real amusement behind it. “Thanks, I guess.”
He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering a bit too long. “Come on, don’t be so modest. You know you’ve got that spark. That thing that makes guys want to get closer.”
There’s a shift in his tone, a subtle edge that makes my skin crawl. I pull back slightly, trying to keep things light. “Maybe, but not everyone gets to see it.”
Nick’s smile falters, just for a second, before he recovers. “Come on, Zara. We’ve been having a good time, right? You can’t deny that.”
I take a deep breath, my mind racing as I search for a way to let him down gently. “It’s been fun, Nick, but… I’m not really looking for anything right now.”
His expression hardens, and the easygoing charm slips away, replaced by something darker. “You’ve been flirting with me all night, and now you’re telling me you’re not interested? That’s kind of messed up, don’t you think?”
Before I can respond, Nick moves in closer, his hand sliding around my waist as he leans in to kiss me. Instinctively, I push him away, the force of it surprising both of us.
“Nick, no,” I say firmly, stepping back to create some distance between us. My heart is pounding now, more out of frustration than anything else.
Nick’s eyes narrow, and he steps closer again, invading my space. “You’re just playing games, aren’t you? Acting all interested and then pulling back at the last minute. What’s your deal, Zara?”
I feel the anger rising, hot and sharp, but I keep my voice steady. “My deal is that I’m not interested in you like that. And if you can’t respect that, then we’re done here.”
He scoffs, taking a step back, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Whatever. You’re just a tease, you know that?”
His words sting more than I’d like to admit, but I refuse to let it show. “And you’re just another guy who thinks he’s entitled to something he hasn’t earned. Goodnight, Nick.”
I turn on my heel, walking away before he can say anything else. My heart is pounding, a mix of anger and disappointment churning in my gut. I raise my hand and hail a cab, sliding into the backseat and giving the driver my address.
As the cab pulls away, I lean back against the seat, closing my eyes. This night was supposed to be a distraction, a chance to have some fun, but all it’s done is remind me of what I’m missing—something real, something that actually excites me.
The cab weaves through the city streets, and I let out a long, slow breath. Maybe Lena was right. Maybe it’s time to try something different. Something that actually makes me feelalive.
5
Istare at the small black card, the sleek surface glinting under the fluorescent lights of my office. It’s just before lunch, but the only hunger I can think about is the one that’s gone unsated for far too long. I haven’t come with someone else in months. I’m tired of the shitty one-night stands where I have to fake it just to save my date’s ego. No. I need something more. Something exciting. Something substantial.
I flip the card over, the single email address staring back at me, simple and unassuming:[email protected] input it into the blank email I’ve already pulled up on my screen. What do I put on the subject line? My fingers hover over the keys, hesitation gripping me. I chew on my lip, suddenly losing the nerve to go through with this. After typing and deleting a few times, I finally settle on:
Seeking Services.
I take a deep breath and click into the body of the email. Now what? My fingers tap nervously on the keyboard as I try to form the right words. Finally, I type:
A friend suggested you to me. I’m seeking an experience…
I pause, reading the line over, wondering if it sounds too vague or too desperate. But what else is there to say? I sign off with my name before stopping. Should I be putting my full name? My email address is random, a nickname I had as a kid mixed with my birthday. It’s not like they can track me down from it. Still, something in me hesitates. I delete my name and instead sign off the email with a simple:Red.
I sit back, staring at the screen, my heart pounding. The cursor blinks, waiting for me to make a move. All I have to do is hit send. But that one little action feels like stepping off a ledge into the unknown.
With a final, steadying breath, I close my eyes and pressSend.
After picking at my lunch, appetite lost in a swirl of nerves and anticipation, I take a seat back at my desk. My eyes catch on the screen, and my heart skips a beat as I notice a reply fromBladesitting in my inbox. Just as I’m about to click it open, Nick saunters up to my desk, his presence like an unwelcome cloud. I sigh, glancing up at him, my irritation barely masked. “Can I help you with something?”
Nick’s gaze drops to my screen, and I see his jaw tighten. “Personal email, huh? Guess work’s not keeping you too busy.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “It’s my lunch break, Nick.”
He crosses his arms, leaning in slightly. “Funny, you seemed pretty distracted last night, too. Can’t imagine why.”
