by Adele Huxley
Contents
CoaSD - Book 6
From the Authors
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Thank you!
This book is work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This book contains explicit material and is intended for readers 18 years or older.
The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademarked owners of any wordmarks mentioned in the following fiction.
Copyright © 2016 by Adele Huxley
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.
All requests should be forwarded to: [email protected]
Chronicles of a Serial Dater is a series of 7 short stories that follow Talia through the murky world of dating. These books were originally published once a week through the summer, just like episodes of a TV show! Since all the books are out now, you’re free to binge away!
Book 1
Book 2
Book 3
Book 4
Book 5
Book 6
Book 7
Bonus online content adds to the interactive fun! You can find Talia’s blog on my website, AdeleHuxley.com. Be on the lookout for any chapter ending with this image:
Tapping it should take you to the corresponding section in the blog, but beware! Looking too far ahead might mean spoilers for the next books!!
Believe it for not, all the dates, conversations, and horror stories in this series are real. Readers just like you were kind enough to share their funniest and worst dates for our entertainment. At least something good came out of them! So if you’re reading these and at any point think, “Come on now, this is too ridiculous,” just remember…
The truth is always stranger than fiction, and nothing is stranger than online dating.
Clint was sitting in the aisle seat, an empty window spot to his left. I triple checked the slip of paper in my hand and breathed a sigh of relief when I realized I wasn’t ticketed to be right beside him. Just in the same row. Shit. I stared at my ticket like it was the most interesting thing in the universe. I would’ve done just about anything to keep from making eye contact with Clint. Stupidly, I thought I could make it all the way to New York without him noticing I was only one seat away.
“Excuse me,” I whispered to the older man blocking my window spot.
He looked up at me through bushy eyebrows, groaned as if I were making the biggest inconvenience, and stood. The wheel on my carry-on snagged on the armrest as I tried to lift it, knocking me off balance. I nearly dropped it. With a grunt, I attempted to right it but a familiar accented voice spoke up just behind me.
“Oh, let me get that for you,” he said as he unsnapped his seatbelt.
Act surprised. You didn’t see him. This whole situation is such a surprise, I coached myself before turning. “Thanks so much,” I replied as he took the suitcase from me. “Oh Clint, it’s you!” My fake shock wasn’t fooling anyone. Just as well I wasn’t staying in Hollywood to be an aspiring actress.
He blinked a few times as if making sure he wasn’t seeing things. Meanwhile, I burst into a fresh coat of sweat. “Talia,” he murmured.
I took advantage of his shock and moved quickly into my seat as I spoke. “How funny? I didn’t know you were on this flight.”
Clint remained in the aisle, arms hanging from the bulkhead above. “I decided to take an earlier one…”
“You two know each other?” the old guy asked. Clint and I spoke at the same time.
“Yeah well, we…”
“I mean, sort of…” I trailed off.
The man looked completely unimpressed. “Do you want to take my seat?” he asked Clint.
“No! No, that’s not necessary,” I cut in quickly. Clint gave me a little look and I explained, “No offense! It’s just that I usually sleep on planes. And I get airsick.” The old man then gave me a questioning look. “But not like, too airsick. Just enough.”
Christ Talia…
Everyone settled back into their seats as I tried to melt into mine. Ten minutes ago I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world to get a free upgrade. I didn’t know what was worse, ignoring the fact that he was sitting five feet away or trying to figure out if and how I should talk to him. I rifled through the magazines in front of me, for want of a distraction.
“Did you have a good time?” Clint asked, leaning forward.
“Oh, yeah! Totally. It was exactly what I needed,” I gushed.
“I hope your muscles aren’t sore.”
“Yeah, no I mean. They aren’t too bad, I guess. I’m definitely feeling parts I forgot existed,” I laughed nervously.
The old guy next to me arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure you don’t want me to switch seats?”
“No, no, no,” I insisted. “Once this plane takes off, I’ll be out like a light.”
I gave Clint a little smile and leaned back out of his line of sight. The air hostess came by and offered us drinks before takeoff, and I gladly accepted a mini bottle of champagne. Just as she returned with the drinks, Clint caught my attention again.
“I forgot to ask. How’s that cut?”
I involuntarily touched my knee, still feeling a bit embarrassed about my slip. “Oh, it’s fine. Just a little oozy. The swelling on my ankle went down last night.”
The guy sitting next to me slammed his magazine shut with a grunt. He turned across the aisle to Clint. “I really have to insist,” he said in a voice that left no room for negotiation.
Clint shrugged and collected his things. “Well, if you insist…” A waft of cologne hit me as he sat down, an earthy, musky scent that reminded me of being carried down the hill on his back.
I was a bundle of nerves, a collection of confusion, in other words, a complete mess but doing my best to hide it. Should I try to fall asleep? Should I give him a little polite conversation before pretending to sleep? Should I be acting like we didn’t have a moment back at the house the night before?
As all these thoughts raced through my mind and on the outside we were left in silence. We exchanged pleasantries throughout the safety briefing and as the plane taxied. I’m not a nervous flier by any stretch. When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait for the plane to take off. The sensation of being pressed into your seat during acceleration was so thrilling.
Maybe it was because I was so anxious sitting next to Clint, but I had a little freak out the moment the nose rose into the air. I slammed both my hands down onto either armrest, my fingers digging into the hard plastic. I squeezed my eyes shut as the plane made a big thunk sound when the tires lifted from the runway.
“It’s all right,” Clint soothed. He rested his hand on top of mine, his shoulder pressed into my arm as he leaned forward to make sure I was okay. For some reason that just made things worse, probably because I was trying to figure out how to respond as well as controlling my panic.
“I’m okay,” I said with my eyes still closed.
“You know, statistically…”
I cut him off, my tone clipped and tense. I raised a warning finger and kept my head pressed against the back of the chair. “I swear to God, if you give me that stat about how it’s safer to fly than it is to drive…”
“Actually, I was going to say statistically you’re more likely to be eaten by a mountain lion than to die in a plane crash.”
My eyes snapped open and I couldn’t control the bark of laughter that slipped from my lips. Clint smirked, a dimple forming the corner of his mouth.
“There she is,” he laughed. “Nice to have you back.”
“Yeah, I’m here.” I laughed nervously, muscles still tense from the acceleration. “I expect you’ll make a joke about the Mile High Club at some point, though.”
“You’re not a member?” he frowned.
“No. I haven’t had the pleasure,” I quipped. The joke set the both of us at ease and as the plane leveled out, the conversation thawed. Maybe it was the glass of bubbly I finished while flying at altitude, but more likely it was Clint’s incredible ability to put me at ease.
The next few hours flew by, pun not intended. After a surprisingly good dinner, the cabin lights turned off. The two of us were bathed in a pocket of brightness from our reading lights above. While everyone else in business class either slept or worked, we couldn’t stop talking. It was so comfortable and natural. He was a born storyteller but never dominated the conversation. I found myself revealing a lot about my life, more than I would’ve if I’d been my normal cautious self.
I had a moment of clarity as we talked, almost like I’d stepped away from my body and could watch the scene unfold as a bystander. Whenever I’d anticipated meeting up with Clint, I got in my own way. I was so uptight around him that I gave off an odd perception of myself. I remembered how it’d felt to be with Oliver, to be myself, to feel at ease in my own skin.
With nowhere to escape to, either on top of the mountain or 35,000 feet in the air, my defenses had dropped around Clint and I was slowly letting him in.
“So, you know what you’ll do when you get back?” I frowned, unsure if he was talking about work or something more.
“You mean, about…”
“The problem you mentioned when we were at the top of the…”
“Oh, right! Yeah,” I replied, a long breath escaping through my nose. I could tell he was leading the conversation without being overt, but it was okay. I needed to talk about it, even if I didn’t tell him everything. “I guess so.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want,” he backpedaled.
“No, it’s cool. I’m going to break it off with Zach. Clearly that’s not a very healthy relationship. After everything that happened this weekend, I think it’s for the best.” An image of Oliver holding my ankles popped into my mind, threatening to stain my cheeks with color.
Clint’s eyes went wide. “Oh, so because of...” he trailed off, his hand gesture finishing the thought.
At first I didn’t understand how he could’ve known about my hookup but then I realized he was talking about the goodnight kiss he’d given me. “Last night, you mean? No! No, well, kind of, I suppose,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Things are just a little confusing right now for me and when you… you know,” I said, glancing over at him.
He nodded knowingly. “I didn’t help you much.”
It was strangely endearing to see such a strong, confident man acting so sheepish. I reached for his knee, dipping my head to catch his eye. “You certainly didn’t hurt me,” I smiled, surprised at my own forwardness. Don’t worry, my social anxiety quickly caught up. Apparently flying 500 miles per hour gave me a few seconds of coolness. “I mean, unless you’re into that kind of thing.”
Clint laughed and blinked at me incredulously. All I could do was shake my head.
“I don’t know where that came from,” I snickered. I sat back and crossed my legs, not feeling embarrassed so much as open. “This whole year has been like a slow-motion train wreck.”
“Do you know when the train jumped the tracks?”
I nodded, staring at the screen in front of me. “Right around the time my boyfriend, sorry… ex-boyfriend, dumped me for a sorority girl with Playboy aspirations.”
“Ouch,” he frowned.
“Right? The night before we’d been looking at apartments together, making cleaning schedules, joking about going to the bathroom with the door open. The next morning I’m standing in my cap and gown with makeup running down my face.” I was surprised at how calm and accepting this all came out.
“Bloody hell.”
“That’s Kevin. He’s a special kind of guy,” I said with a mock grin.
“Oh, it’s all right. I’m hopeless with women too.”
“Oh yeah?”
“You know Alison? The woman I mentioned yesterday? I was stupid enough to agree to see her the other day.”
My throat tightened at the thought of Clint spending time with another woman. I quickly chastised myself for getting jealous. You should be happy he’s opening up with you at all!
“How’d that go?”
His index finger ran around the denim on his thigh, doing figure 8s like a skater floating along the ice.
“About as well as I should’ve expected. She claimed she wanted to meet so we could have closure.”
“Ah.” My imagination ran wild. Closure landed somewhere between makeup sex and this-is-why-you-suck fighting.
Clint continued, almost as if he were reading my mind. “Apparently closure means getting me to fix a few things around her house while angling for me to take her on an expensive holiday.”
“Cute,” I laughed. I thought about what I might do if Kevin called wanting to run a post-mortem on our relationship and decided it wouldn’t go well. “What made you go?”
He rolled his eyes and rested his head back, staring at me from the side. “The past. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic.” He dropped his gaze to the floor. It felt like he wanted to continue that thought but stopped himself short. “A hopeless romantic who is hopeless with women.”
“Better than being cynical,” I said, leaning forward to catch his eye.
“Very true.” I could tell he didn’t really agree.
“It speaks more about your character than hers. You didn’t want to go, but you did… for her. That says a lot about you.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled a touch when he smiled. He held up his drink.
“To the hopeless romantics?” he offered as a toast.
“No. To the hopeful romantics,” I corrected, clinking mine with his.
Have you ever gotten a hangover before going to sleep? At least when you crash first, you get a few blissful hours of rest before your head starts pounding and you feel like death warmed over. The bubbly had flowed most of the flight and by the time the plane landed, I could feel the little niggles of an actual hangover behind my eyes.
“Let me give you a ride home,” Clint said as he stood. He grabbed my bag from the overhead and handed it down.
“You really don’t have to. I can take the E back into the city,” I replied. With the heady combination of alcohol, exhaustion, and honesty, I was afraid I might end up inviting him up. Or, worse yet, inviting myself over to his place.
“Seriously. I insist. There’s a driver waiting for me, I’m going that way, it’s no trouble whatsoever.”
“As long as you’re sure. I definitely need a cup of coffee first,” I groaned.
“Whatever you want.” His green eyes held me for a few extra seconds, the implication cutting through my fuzzy brain.
Clint carried my bag, waited for me at the luggage carousel even though he hadn’t checked any of his own, and led me through to arrivals. He squinted into the crowd, growing more and more agitated.
“Everything okay?”
He frowned into his phone, angrily tapping the screen. “I was supposed to have a driver here when I landed but…” He stopped and took a measured breath, g
iving me a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “Why don’t you grab that coffee and I’ll get this sorted, yeah?”
“Sure.” His intensity left me a little pushed back… and slightly turned on. The take-charge attitude was surprisingly attractive.
I found Starbucks kiosk and ordered a plain black coffee. It was a little past 6 p.m. and I didn’t want to be up all night. As I swung my purse over my shoulder, I nearly collided with someone standing far too close behind me. In my surprise, I squeezed the paper cup hard and sloshed scalding coffee onto the sensitive skin between my thumb and finger.
“I’m so sorry!”
“It’s fine,” I hissed, flicking the hot liquid away.
“Holy shhh… Talia?”
I slowly blinked up, wishing with all my heart I would in this instant discover a way to teleport. “Oh my gosh, Kevin,” I replied with saccharine sweetness.
He looked good, too good. Fuck him for looking so good, I thought. He should look terrible, wrinkled, prematurely gray. Like a Hobbit or Benjamin Button. A Benjamin Button Hobbit. A hunchback with cataracts. Not as good as this. Not nearly as good as he looks right now.
Curse him, he was tanned and well dressed, looking more adult than I’d ever seen him. His brown sun-streaked hair was nicely styled. God, he was even wearing a pair of boat shoes. I’d nagged at him for over a year to buy a pair of those instead of flip-flops, and here he was wearing them.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said. I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
I was in absolutely no mood to do this. I was tired, cranky, and my hand hurt. “Yeah, strangely enough I’m not right where you left me, huh?” I snapped.
“That’s not what I…”
“Hey baby? What did you want again?”
The blonde with big tits who Kevin always insisted was ‘just a friend’ came bounding over. She obviously felt the tension in the air but reverted to a bubbly sort of fake friendliness.
“Hi! I’m Adrianna,” she said extending her hand. “I don’t think we’ve met.”