Dad Bod (Under Construction 1)

“Emily … the waitress. She’s cute, right?” he goads.

“I guess…” It’s more of a question than a statement. Damn, it’s hot outside. We shoulda sat in the dining room. Was it my idea or Carter’s to sit out in the blazing heat? The fuck… Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

“Fuck, you okay, Mad?” Carter asks as I pick up the glass of water and chug.

“I don’t know that I’m ready for this yet, Carter. Do you know how long it’s been since I…”

“Fucked? Dude, it’s like riding a fuckin’ bike.” And of course Carter has no subtlety. The people sitting nearby gawk in our direction, a look of disgust on their faces as they earmuff their son who looks to be Belle’s age. Oops. Tough break.

“Yeah, we’re not goin’ there. I mean dating.”

“Ah, that. Yeah. Casey fucked you up good. I get it. But you gotta move on at some point.”

I shake my head, unsure.

“So if not Emily, how’s it goin’ on Bumble?” he asks, referring to the dating site I joined. I had no plans of initiating contact with any women on the site until I was prepared. Maybe not ever. Just testing the waters. I’m not exactly prime for market.

I groan inwardly and push my plate away. “I’ve chatted with a few women. Really didn’t have much of a choice considering some di”—I look to my left, the lady at the other table shooting me a disapproving glare—“ahem… Some jerk threw me to slaughter.”

“So I pushed you out of your comfort zone, Mad. Big fuckin’ deal. You said it yourself, dating was a goal. If you had no intentions of doing so, why are you on the site?” He glares at me, waiting for a response, to which I shift uncomfortably in my seat and cross my arms over my chest. “Ex-fuckin-actly. Sink or swim. Now man the fuck up and decide which one it’s gonna be.”

He’s right.

But damn if I don’t hate admitting that.

Truth is, I’d already decided it was time to leap, but it’s something I’d rather to have kept to myself because Carter misconstrues everything.

“You done, RuPaul?” Fuckin’ drama queen. Carter laughs around a bite of food, the burger keeping him silent for whatever time I can steal. “I’m takin' her to dinner Friday night.”

“Hell yeah!” he cheers, full of encouragement. “Why didn’t you say something? What’s her name?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Carter. It’s one date.”

CHAPTER TEN

JORDAN

I’ve been dreading this day since I peeled myself from my bathroom floor on Sunday afternoon sometime. How long did I lay there? I’m taking that one to the grave. I may or may not have laid there long enough to count every single tile in the bathroom. Every. Single. Tile. The remainder of Sunday wasn’t any better. I spent the evening hydrating, popping Advil, and contemplating anything from playing sick tomorrow or skipping town all together as all the events of Saturday night come back to me. Alcohol, you are a nasty, nasty bitch. How am I supposed to face Madden today after rearranging his face with puke? At least I managed to get more on him than in Carter’s truck; otherwise, I would have had to listen to him bitch and moan so much that I would have offered to clean his nasty ass truck just so he would shut up. I have no clue what is up with he and Laney anymore, but their interaction held more bite than it normally does.

“Let’s take it up a notch!” Bryn shouts through her headset, sitting like the perfect version of a workout queen in the front of the room. She instructs the spinning class as if she wasn’t also on the hangover from hell yesterday. I have no clue how she hides it so well. I’m almost certain I’m legit sweating alcohol through my pores, and the smell makes me want to vomit all over again. It’s going to take me awhile to get over this one.

Panic at the Disco blares loudly from the speakers singing about High Hopes as Bryn instructs us to turn up the resistance and visualize the mountain we’re pretending to be climbing on our bikes. I take this time to close my eyes and just be, clear my head and focus on what lies on the nerves of steel I need for today when I have to face Madden. I also vow to stop thinking about how nice it was to have someone take care of me and how good it felt to be in his arms. Well, in his arms until they became puke covered anyway.

Bryn and I exit the spinning room together and now that I can see her up close, she looks like she feels as bad as I do. Damn, I wish I could hide it as well as she does.

“Girl,” Bryn chides, “Jose and I are on a permanent break.”

It takes me all of thirty seconds to realize she’s not speaking about a real person, and I chuckle lightly.

“Me too,” I agree. “I can still smell him as I sweat.”

“We still need another girls’ night, though. We have to get you some action.”

I shake my head and open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off before I can get a word out.

“Jo, you are friggin’ hot, and your body is banging. Heck, I’ve even had dirty thoughts about you before.”

I have no clue what to do with that, so I start stuttering like Stanley and manage to croak out, “You’ve had what?”