Zel [2:35pm]: It's Monday. Debrief time, gals.

Wal [2:37pm]: your date was saturday harp so you go first

Harp [2:37]: OF COURSE YOU'D SAY THAT

Zel [2:37pm]: The faster you tell us the faster Wallace has to share.

Harp [2:38pm]: Reese took me out for drinks at this place in the little downtown near him. had some chips and guac and they did trivia so we played and lost.

Wal [2:38pm]: did you kiss him again?

Harp [2:39pm]: yeeeeeesss! ugh it was so nice. and he seemed to have a lot of fun and asked to go out again.

Zel [2:40pm]: Did he hold your hand?

Harp [2:40pm]: kissed it too!

Zel [2:41pm]: Girl omg

Harp [2:41pm]: so yes we are proceeding as planned, very boring, very vanilla

Harp [2:41pm]: WAL YOUR TURN

Wal [2:42pm]: ugh

Zel [2:42om]: Don't 'ugh' us! SPILL

I frown at my phone. Not because I don't want to tell Zelda or Harper the details of what happened with Gideon. In fact, I'm dying to talk about it with them. But I don't want them to get all excited about the wrong thing.

Well, whatever. I'll deal with it.

I resist the urge to make light of it because of my embarrassment of dry humping the hell out of a man I met last month like a horny teenager.

Despite being a grown ass woman.

Wal [2:45pm]: well i went to his apartment after work and i dutifully turned in my homework and wanted to die on the spot but he was very kind about the whole thing.

Harp [2:45pm]: did he seem chill about the whole doing down on you thing? cause I've heard he's good at it.

Wal [2:46pm]: didn't bat an eye

Wal [2:46pm]: uhhhh and then we went over some ground rules

Harp [2:47pm]: RULES? WHAT DO YOU NEED RULES FOR JUST GET DOWN AND DIRTY

Wal [2:48pm]: i mean we're not dating and stuff so I feel like it makes sense

Zel [2:48pm]: What are the rules?

Wal [2:49pm]: consent, communication, exclusivity (unless I meet someone then we can call it off), and protection.

Zel [2:49pm]: Makes sense!

Harp [2:49pm]: fine yes those are good ones. what else happened! anything??!

Wal [2:50pm]: we made out

Harp [2:50pm]: AH OMG WAS IT HOT

Wal [2:51pm]: um yes

Harp [2:51pm]: did she just 'um yes' us?

Zel [2:51pm]: Yes.

Wal [2:51pm]: what?

Harp [2:52pm]: DIRTY DETAILS

Wal [2:52pm]: jeez

Wal [2:52pm]: well we started while standing and then he pulled me into his lap on the couch and then i might have gotten carried away on top of him in the moment so we sort of just stopped and watched some tv and then i left.

Harp [2:53pm]: you just stopped? did you make him cum in his pants or something?

Yup. There it is. The urge to throw the phone. I can't believe I'm getting flustered talking about this. With my friends.

With Harper, no less.

I guess that's what happens when you have zero experience.

I man up and type my response while basically hiding my face as if someone is here in my apartment to judge me.

Wal [2:55pm]: almost

Harp [2:55pm]: GIRLLLLLLLL

Zel [2:55pm]: Our little girl is growing up!

Wal [2:56pm]: you guys suck

I toss my phone across the room and die a little on the inside. I know they are just being my biggest cheerleaders right now, but I can't help but get embarrassed while talking about it. Mostly because I know I can't stop thinking about it. The little groan he let out. The feeling of him underneath me. I could have stayed on top of him all day if it meant feeling that good.

If getting myself off through four layers of clothing feels that good, I can't imagine what it will be like once the clothes come off.

I try to keep my head on straight the next few days. Despite my better judgment, I feel like a horny teenager when my mind keeps drifting back to that day on the couch. When I'm driving. When I'm at work. When I'm alone in my bed at night.

It's mildly infuriating to be honest.

I need to get out of the house. I need to do something to keep busy, otherwise I'm going to spiral and think about the feeling of Gideon's dick between my legs and there's only so many hours in a day.

I'm elbows deep in the graphic novel section of a bookstore during another distraction shopping run when my phone buzzes in my coat pocket.

"Hello?" I say into the speaker, balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder.

"Hi darling!" comes my mother's screeching voice.

I sigh internally. She's going to have me on the phone forever. The last thing I want to actually do is talk with her when I'm trying to have a nice day alone shopping at the bookstore so I don't think about my hormones.

"Hi mom," I say back with a pathetic attempt at cheer. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she replies. "Can't I call my daughter?"

"You can," I stress. "I just didn't know if there was a reason you called."

I start to shove some of the books back on the shelf, my mind far from the titles in front of me and now focused on the call at hand.

"Not really. Annoyed with your father. He was supposed to go pick up your sister from her boyfriend's and forgot. So, I get a call from your sister in the middle of the night needing someone to come and get her."

My parents divorced five years ago, and they still can't get the co-parenting communication down right. Granted, my sister is a full-fledged adult, but she doesn't have a car yet.

"Why didn't her boyfriend just bring her home?" I ask.

"Because he's a piece of shit," she says candidly. "Honestly. I don't like him. He couldn't bring her home because he had a flight to catch with his family and, of course, Julia overstayed her welcome. They just left her there alone to lock up while she waited for me to get there."

"I mean..." I say as I walk aimlessly through the store, "Jules should have known better. Not to say that her boyfriend shouldn't have driven her home, but she should have left early knowing they had a flight in the morning."

"Yes, but still," my mom complains. "He's done other stuff. This isn't the first time. When you get a boyfriend, make sure he's at least considerate."

"Mhm, sure," I say distractedly. There's a display for new non-fiction books that have caught my eye.

"Is there no one that you're seeing right now?"

"No, mom. You just asked me at Christmas the same thing."

"That was over a month ago!"

"And nothing has changed. As usual. Dating is annoying."

She sighs heavily into the phone, and I can just picture what she looks like. Hunched over the kitchen table, iced tea in hand, frown deep on her face.

"Wal, you can't tell me there isn't a single boy in your life you haven't told me about. Your sister tells me about her excursions all the time!"

Feeling like I'm on stage being the only person talking on the phone in a bookstore, I shuffle out the front door to sit on a damp bench in front of the building. The weather finally had a warm break and with the sun peeking out for the first time in months the snow is already beginning to melt. A faux spring for the beginning of February.

"Mom, if I had something to tell you, I would."

"Maybe the boys are just intimidated. I had that issue at your age. Just ask them out yourself."

"There's no one that I'm interested in like that," I tell her honestly.

"Please, there has to be some. There were like four cute boys in that photo Harper posted from New Year's."

I laugh on reflex. "Just because they are attractive doesn't mean I need to be interested in them. They're all great guys. But we're friends."

"And friends usually lead to solid relationships. I mean, honestly honey, I'm worried about you."

I wrinkle my nose. "Why?"

"I don't want you to be alone."

What I don't have the heart to tell her is that I don't want to be alone either. But if I explain to her what's going on in my head, it's not going to make a lot of sense. All it's going to do is make her worry more. That's the last thing she needs.

"You don't need to worry, mom. I'm fine. If I meet someone, I meet someone. I just don't want to go out of my way and keep dating until then. I literally hate it."

She scoffs. "Then how are you supposed to meet anyone? Do you know how rare it is for a guy to just walk into your life? I see all these reports on dating and dating apps and how hard it is for people your age now without them since no one likes to talk to each other anymore."

"I don't know, mom. I just haven't met anyone that I like like that."

"How come you never dated that one boy? Parker?"

Now that's a throwback if I've ever heard one. Parker and I had been attached at the hip during my first year of college. Honestly, the only reason I made it through that school before I transferred. We met working at the campus store together and hit it off almost immediately. The same sense of humor. Same topics of interest. We had sleepovers only a few weeks after meeting and slept in the same bed, much to Harper's confusion when I told her about it.

Not once did I ever think about dating him.

Sure, he was cute. He was on the swim team and had a rotating cast of girlfriends over the semesters, but despite our close relationship, it was never like that between us. Hell, he came to me for relationship advice half the time.

"You know Parker and I were just friends."

"Come on, you never thought about it?"

"God no!"

"Well, what are you looking for then? You and Parker had all the makings of a couple. What do you think a relationship is? You know your father and I's relationship is not...how relationships are, right, honey?"

If a black hole could come up out of the ground right now, that would be fantastic.

"Yes, mom. I'm a grown woman. I know what a healthy relationship should look like."

"And you like men, right?"

"Mom!"

"What? It's fine if you don't."

"Yes, I like men. Jesus."

I can hear the roll of her eyes in her voice. "I don't know what you're getting all worked up about."

"You're giving me the third degree for no reason."

"I think it's quite normal to be interested in your daughter's dating life," she comments.

"I just don't see what the big deal is. I've never been a fan of dating and most people meet like that. So, I'll just have to wait until I meet a guy a different way. If it happens, it happens."

"Are you sure you're just not avoiding it? I know it can make people nervous, but everyone is nervous when they date. Do you think maybe you might want to talk to someone about commitment issues? I mean, maybe your father and I fucked you up."

I press a hand to my face to stifle the groan that threatens to come out. I don't know how many times I need to explain to my mother that it isn't her fault I've had such a hard time dating. I've always known from a young age that the relationship between my parents was not one to emulate. That their relationship isn't how all relationships are. My issues with dating are far different than that. But how does one explain that dating just freaks me out?

Even though I want to have a relationship?

It's an oxymoron if I've ever heard one.

"Mom, I'm fine. I'm happy. I have my friends. Please don't get all worked up over this for nothing."

She sighs. "I'll be the first to know when you finally meet him, though, right?"

"Yes, yes. I'll send you a handwritten letter."

"Smart ass."

Thankfully, she gets distracted enough to rant on and on about something complete unrelated before I'm able to wrestle her off the phone.

I love my mother dearly. And I know she means well. I can't imagine how strange it must be for her oldest to never have brought a boy home. To never have talked about a crush or had to come to her because she needed boy help. Not anything like how she's had with my little sister. I could have told her about my failed dates (that I can count on one hand) but the idea of having to talk about them makes my skin crawl for some reason.

I could have told her about Gideon too.

But some part of me knows that'll turn into a lecture somehow. She wants me to date. To get married. Give her grandkids. Not have sex lessons with a friend.

It's like now that I've "taken the risk" with Gideon, the world won't shut up about dating. Having my mother in my ear had been just the start. Over the next week it's like I'm surrounded by it. By the giddiness that is Harper and Reese's blossoming relationship. By John and Zelda's and the tales that she brings to our group chats. By the world and stupid Valentine's Day. I can't escape it even from the ads or when I go grocery shopping.

All of it just feels a little suffocating.

Like the universe is saying – great! You made out with a boy you're not even interested in dating! Now you can move on to bigger and better things!

Though while I might not be interested in dating Gideon...I can't deny the pull towards him that I feel.

But again, that can easily be explained with him being the first man I've crossed that line with.

I'm standing in the candy aisle that decorated with red and pink streamers and balloons for the upcoming holiday, desperate to find a cheap bag of candy to shove my face with for the next several days. Harper and Reese have another date coming up and John and Zelda are going away for the weekend which leaves little old me to fend for myself.

No Galentine's Day for us.

"Fancy seeing you here."

I turn, jumping slightly out of my skin, to see Gideon in a cream-colored hoodie, hair pulled out of his face. He's got a basket hanging from one arm and his phone in the other.

"Gideon! Why are you here?"

"I'm picking up some candy last minute for a candy swap at work."

"No, I mean, why are you in my neck of the woods?"

"Oh," he laughs. "Was hanging out with Will. Figured I'd just stop at the store over here instead of facing the city crowds."

Ah, that makes sense.

"And why are you just standing here, staring at candy?" he asks me as he starts to skim the shelf himself.

"I need chocolate," I say simply.

"Valid."

"It's just they are all so overpriced thanks to this stupid holiday. I just want a bag of plain chocolate. Why do I need to pay eight bucks for it?" I complain.

"Capitalism," he laments. He grabs a bag of conversation hearts and crinkles his nose at them before throwing them back on the shelf. "So, are you doing anything for Valentine's Day?"

I shake my head. "No. It's one of my least favorite holidays. I was going to see if Harper and Zelda wanted to do a Galentine's Day thing, but they're busy."

"Not a fan of Cupid?" he asks as he holds up the most atrocious stuffed Cupid toy I've seen in front of his face.

I step closer into his space to grab the ugly thing. "I hope this is a dog toy. Why would anyone want this?" It's barely clear that this thing is supposed to be Cupid anyway and not just oversized baby with an arrow. "No. I've never really been a fan. Probably because I've always been by myself."

"Did you want to do something and simply never got the chance to?"

I dart my eyes up at him, hiding the rest of my face behind the ugly plush toy.

"Not really. Why? You offering?" I joke.

He grabs a bag of lollipops off the shelf and tosses me a sly smile. "No. I also don't celebrate Valentine's Day. Flowers and chocolate aren't my thing. But if you want to hang out, I don't mind keeping you company – sans actual holiday purposes. There's a few anti-Valentine's Day events we could go to."

"I didn't even know that was a thing."

"Oh yeah. I went to one last year. It was fun."

"Sounds like it could be fun."

He settles on two bags of lollipops.

"I'll text you the details."

Which is how I end up at a basement Japanese bar in the city on a weeknight. The fact that I'm out on Valentine's Day alone is already a shock to me. But it's not as if we're celebrating; in fact, since we're doing the express opposite, I find myself at ease.

Gideon and I find ourselves seated at the bar styled to replicate a Japanese izakaya surrounded by groups of people giddy and grinning amongst all the themed décor. Hearts with cracks in them, catch phrases meant to bash Valentine's Day, little Cupid's with X's through him—all vetoing the romance that's usually pushed on this day. There are couples here, it's obvious with the way some of them whisper sweet nothings in their ears, but they aren't being overtly in our faces about the whole thing. It's nice.

Two beers appear in front of us, and we clink glasses before I shift slightly on my stool to face Gideon better.

"I had no idea places did events like this," I say, licking some of the beer off my lips after I take a drink.

"Cool, right? And all the music is supposed to be anti-Valentine's Day too."

Gideon and I kind of match tonight with our fading leather jackets and jeans. Since we are out in public, I put a little bit more effort in my hair, styling my curtain bangs to frame my face a bit better. Gideon's hair is pulled out of his face in a messy bun, like always, but the look suits him on most occasions.

"So why don't you like today?" I prod. "I told you why I don't."

He takes a swig of his beer. "Just not a fan. All the hearts and obligation gifts? It's all in your face. I don't need a reason or a holiday to show I care for someone."

"What would you have done if I hadn't agreed to come out?"

"Probably slept, to be honest. I got off work at five this morning."

"Gideon!" I slap his arm.

He laughs. "What?"

"You should be resting. I swear, you work more than anyone I know. Rest for fuck's sake," I scold.

"I'll rest when I'm dead."

"That's fucked up," I tell him with a grin.

I'm surprised my mind isn't running a mile a minute now that I'm in Gideon's bubble. Now that I can smell his cologne and watch his fingers dancing along the rim of his beer glass. It's easier hanging out with Gideon than I thought it would be. Despite how imposing he seems at first, with his height and his rough around the edge's appearance, that's not how he is at all. He reminds me of Parker a bit with how simple it is to be with him – only I had no interest in making out with Parker.

"So, how have you been since we hung out last? It's been a minute," he asks me.

Oh, just daydreaming about our last hang out. I never moved on!

"Fine," I decide to say. "Bored, mostly. You don't know how hard it is to not watch X-Files without you."

He presses a hand to his heart. "Aw, you're being so good."

I flush, and I'm thankful for the low yellow-orange glow of this place.

"Yeah, I am actually. We just watched that episode with a killer ghost. And then you made us stop!"

"We both had to go to work the next day!"

"I'd suffer exhaustion for Scully."

"So would I. She's hot," he laughs before taking another swig of his beer and asking the bartender for another.

Conversing with Gideon like this, close and personal in the bar, is pleasant. An easy banter falls over the two of us while we chat about anything and everything. He tells me about the punishing runs Reese used to force him on in college to help him get his act together and I tell him about the time I got lost on a cruise ship as a child and how I learned that Mickey Mouse isn't trustworthy and will not stop to help you with directions at the impressionable age of eleven.

Gideon's halfway through explaining to me how he got a gnarly scar on his ankle (a failed attempt at trespassing when he was fourteen, I guess) when his phone buzzes and lights up on the bar top between us.

When he glances down, I see him make a sour expression and click the side of his phone twice to decline the call.

"You good?" I ask.

"Yeah," he frowns. "Just my dad."

"You don't want to take it?"

"Fuck no," he says, downing the rest of his beer. "The only reason I haven't blocked him is in the off chance the message he leaves is something good. Like he's suddenly died and I'm left a lot of money."

I raise my brows in surprise at the harshness of the comment but say nothing, instead busying my mouth with the beer in front of me.

"Sorry, that was – uh – a little heavy for a night like tonight."

I shake my head furiously. "No, no. You're good. Honest. Just didn't know what to say. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

He eyes his empty glass like he's tempted to order another, and I reach forward in a move more natural than I expect to tangle my fingers in the hair at the base of his neck.

"Well, let's not let him ruin our night then."

His smile sends a ripple like effect of relief through me, and he playfully grabs the rest of my beer to drink before taking my hand and tugging me off the stool towards a darker corner of the bar.

"Wanna do some karaoke?"