Chapter 1
Liam
I type in NeverTooBusy and click search on the app store. Am I going to do this? Once the download finishes, an exhale escapes before tapping the open button. The screen has a welcome homepage and wants to know everything about me and what I’m looking for, and it sinks in how long it might take to set this profile up. This could be all for nothing. Will I find anyone on here worth a damn?
The guys are hovering over me, encouraging me to at least try it out a couple times and see what I find. See, some of them have used it for the wrong reasons, you know, booty calls. Men like that only cloud the waters for those of us looking for something substantial. I might be damaged goods, but even I deserve to be happy, right? Shooting blanks isn’t something anyone knows except Larissa, and she didn’t even wait twenty-four hours before leaving me after hearing the news. Is this going to be the issue that ruins all my future relationships?
All the guys are huddled around me at the station, trying to talk me into using this new app. For the life of me, I don’t know if it’s worth my time.
“My cousin met his wife on there. Just give it a shot,” Pedro says, slapping me on the shoulder.
“Don’t think of her,” Damon says, hand on my shoulder. “You deserve happiness. Get out there and find it.”
I’ve thought about telling him, but being sterile isn’t something that just comes up in casual conversation. Damon already worries about Aiden and I enough, and he has plenty on his plate without adding to it.
“You still coming over tomorrow for dinner?” Damon asks.
“Free food? I’d never miss it.” I reply, walking out of the station.
My feet leave the ground, getting into my brand new Jeep and heading home to answer the bazillion questions to finish my profile. I’ll try it for the guys, but if it doesn’t work out, then I don’t want to hear them say another word. The ride is smooth from the fire station toward my house, until my stomach starts to growl, and I call in a to go order. There’s probably nothing in my fridge at home besides a six pack since I haven’t been grocery shopping this week. Maybe tomorrow.
The jeep comes to a halt out front of the diner, and the bells rings alerting the staff to my arrival.
“Hey, darlin’. Your order is almost ready.”
This place has been around forever and as teenagers, my brothers and I spent a bunch of time here. The waitresses usually recognize us as soon as we walk in. I don’t eat here often, but when I do it’s always good.
She comes back with a bag, and tells me to have a good night before I leave and get back into the Jeep. The grilled onions are all I can smell now. Probably should have thought that through, but oh well. After hitting every red light back to my house, I slide the key into the door and then I use my foot to close it behind me. Finally fucking home. My boots come off at the door, and I set the food on the coffee table before changing into some sweatpants. After returning to the living room, I snatch a cold beer out of the fridge and then return to the couch, bracing my feet on the table, and phone in hand. Let’s see what they want to know about me.
The first couple screens are basic. I’m looking for a female, but then it asks about an age range. Okay, that one might be a little harder. Not sure. I’ll say twenty-eight to thirty-four. I don’t have the energy to keep up with girls in their early twenties that want to drink and party every weekend.
Nice to meet you, Liam. Let’s dig a little deeper so you can be on your way to better matches and better dates. Ready?
I grab another sip of my beer and slide left. What is your height? 6’0. How would you describe your body type? They’ve got to be fucking kidding me. What kind of question is that? The options crack me up: Slim/Slender, Athletic/Fit, Muscular, About Average, Curvy, A few extra pounds, big and beautiful or heavyset. My first pick is muscular, but then I’m pretty fit, too. What do they consider muscular? I don’t body build or anything. So, I choose Athletic and move on to the next stupid question.
What is your relationship status? Definitely Single, Separated, Divorced or Widowed. This presents some deeper thoughts from me. So many divorcees come on this app looking for love? Am I okay with being matched up with someone that’s already been married? I guess not, but sometimes that comes with a problem. Did they initiate the divorce or did the ex-husband? It can get messy if they still love their ex-husband and are not over them. Yet answering for myself is easy. Definitely single.
Do you have kids? Now isn’t this a big question. I click the No, but talking about kids always messes with me. Oh wait, and there's the next one. Do you want kids? Fuck, how can I answer this? Of course I do, but the chances of me having them are slim to none. Only a five percent chance. The options are only Yes, Someday, and No way. So I click Yes, since that’s honest. I get through the next questions quickly about my education and where I grew up and currently live, but they just keep coming. Do you Smoke? No. Do you drink? I start to laugh reading the options on this one. No, In moderation, Sometimes it depends on the day, and when is happy hour. Since I do enjoy a beer or two after work the only option that seems fitting is in moderation.
Do they really need to know all this stuff about me just to agree to a date? Jesus. Oh then there’s the next one. What is your religion? There are like twenty-two options listed and I decide to go with not religious. Here I think the last one is bad, but then here’s a doozy. What makes you the happiest? It lists almost fifty options to choose from like cycling, basketball, fishing, stand-up comedy, playing cards and so much more. I don’t get out much so I hesitate to pick any, but it won’t let me move on without selecting at least five. Playing cards, movies, stand-up comedy, travel and working out.
Tell us about your partner in crime. It wants me to select what I want based on those same questions, but for her. So, I elect for her not to be a smoker, occasional drinker, and at least 5’3. The thought of her having kids is fine because then maybe it will alleviate some pressure for me. If she already has kids, maybe the subject of having more won’t ever come up. Don’t want to pick her up to kiss her. I didn’t care if she had kids already. Some men might see little squirts as a deal breaker but not me. I welcome it. Especially, if she is a good mom, who takes care of her kids and puts them first like they all should.
Interests to show the real you. I laugh and type in Learning to cook without the microwave. And finally the last damn step is to upload four to six pictures of myself. I click on the camera icon to pull up my library and notice I’m not really a selfie taker. I went to my Instagram which I haven’t updated in probably a year or two and pulled some photos off there.
Right after submitting, a page comes up with some profiles that match what I’m looking for and I start scrolling through them.
The first girl is blonde, curvy, and her bio screams only wanting sex. It literally says, Don’t DM before 1 a.m. because I’m not looking for someone to buy me dinner. Next! This one looks promising. Long dark hair, beautiful blue eyes, and almost a perfect smile. I scroll down to read her profile. She seems like she will be well-educated since she graduated from Penn State and she works in a Law Firm. At the same time, I’m about to hit the message button, one comes through from her.
Leslie: I know it’s already eight, but would you like to meet up for a drink?
I take a look at myself, and decide why the hell not. The guys want me to try this out, then so be it. They can hear all about it when I go back to work.
My outfit is changed and a finger traces up the shirt, to the last button, which is left open as I run a comb through my dark brown hair, praying that tonight goes well. Are there any good women left around Grapevine? We’ll see.
Once inside my car, I give myself a pep talk to get through the nerves and prepare myself for what might happen. Just go in with an open mind. Stay positive, damn it.
I arrive at Dixie Bar and sit in a booth towards the back, hoping that she at least looks like her picture, and this isn’t a total waste of my time. I scour my surroundings looking for her, but she’s nowhere to be found. I’ve been told that it’s normal for women to be late on dates because they obsess over their outfits and such. But twenty minutes? If she’s not here in the next ten, then it’ll be time for me to leave and call it a day. Punctuality is something I look for in a woman, and hate when people are late to things. I’m always early to everything, and don’t want to be sitting around waiting for her forever. It looks pathetic.