Falling For Casual

Chapter 3.

   We started talking consistently. It was something I knew would haunt me in the end, but I couldn't help it. Watching his text pop up on my phone gave me that hit of dopamine everyone was chasing, so why would I deny it? I kept swiping through the apps though. I didn't want to put my all into someone who I knew almost nothing about. It also helped that he went on vacation right after our second date, so I didn't have to see him for a little over a week. I thought it would give me some comfort that he'd be gone, off the map, a distant memory. But when my heart started to ache, I knew I was in deeper than I'd hoped.

He didn't message me for days at a time, and I hated how needy I was becoming. It was a feeling that rotted me to my core, but there wasn't a thing I could do to stop it. He was gone, out the city and out of reach. That should've been the best news ever. He was giving me the distance I knew I needed but couldn't get myself to put between us. So, I continued to scroll and swipe, looking for someone to replace him. Someone shiny and new. Shinier than he had to be because I didn't want to get distracted again by the gleam in his endless brown eyes.

That's when I found Bart Bass. Coincidentally on the same app I found Texas, there he was in all his glory, waiting for me like he knew I needed something new. He was significantly older than me. Around my father's age to be exact, which was twenty years older than me. I didn't mind at all. If anything, I think it attracted me more to him. I was never the type to think I had daddy issues because my father had always been there for me. He was always loving, always supportive, never questioned or hesitated to give me anything I had my eye on. He was the one who taught me to find someone who catered to my every need. The only parental trauma I had was brought on by my mother, something I tried to avoid conjuring up entirely.

I think what I wanted most from Bart was his way of showing me he could be better than Texas in every way. Since he was older, and definitely financially well off, I imagined him giving me things I couldn't find from all these other guys. Maturity. God, that was a mistake I didn't know I'd be making. But when our profiles matched, when he introduced himself first with grammar and words that made my heart sing, I forgot about Texas then. Or, at least, as much as my heart allowed me.

Bart and I met at this vegan place around my neighborhood. That was the thing I liked most about him. Not that he made reservations, which I did love, but the fact that he never wanted me to travel too far from my apartment. At first, I thought it was because he wanted to come back to my place, which would be a hard pass. But that wasn't the reason. He worshipped women, almost as much as I did, and the thought of me having to inconvenience myself in any way put a bad taste in his mouth.

And so, traveling less than ten blocks away from my home, I walked through that flowered coated door in one of my best red dresses, lipstick to match. The hostess sat me down at this empty table, but his jacket was hanging on the chair, so it was safe to say he was in the bathroom. I tried to make myself as seductive as possible. It kind of made my stomach turn having to do this song and dance all over again when after the second date with Texas I was allowed to visibly relax my shoulders. But here they were again, hiked up to my ears, my palm tucked under my chin as I scanned the menu with my lips puckered out and my tits pushed forward. I was exhausted already. When he emerged (shorter than I was expecting, shorter than Texas) I stood and hugged him, my soft voice and giggle floating out of me. He was less "Bart Bass" and more "Rufus Humphry" if you know what I mean. A plaid red and black shirt. Heavy accent. Plain cut jeans. Grey stubble peppering his face. He wasn't what I was expecting, but I was here already, and I needed him to take my mind off of you-know-who.

The conversation flowed freely, as did the drinks. He was in an open marriage with two kids. He and his wife lived in Brooklyn, but he traveled to Chelsea where he worked, long and hard. I could tell he was the ambitious type from the way he described his move from Israel to the states. I also knew he was ambitious from the way he was juggling his wife and now trying to add me to the mix. A man with open hands and a greedy mouth. It didn't matter. He was enamored with me. I could tell.