The Gratitude Guarantee (Boyfriend in the Bargain #4)

2. Zach

2

ZACH

“ I t was nice meeting you, Hailey. I hope you had a good time tonight.”

I give her a smile that I hope communicates that I’m friendly but not romantically inclined as I open the door of her car for her. I do this because I am a gentleman, but also because the door provides an excellent barrier to help discourage any thoughts of goodnight kisses.

Although based on the way Hailey rests her arms atop the door and leans forward to prop her chin on her hands, she doesn’t get the hint.

“I had a wonderful time.” Her voice is low and breathy. “Did you?”

I wouldn’t go as far as wonderful, but… “It was fun.”

She smiles at me and flutters her eyelashes, waiting. I hope she’s not holding her breath.

“Well, I’d better let you get home. Have a nice night.” Her hopeful expression wilts as I take a step backward and give her a little wave.

“Thanks for dinner, Zach. Can we maybe…I mean, do you want to go out again next week?”

Oh boy, my favorite part. By now, I’m the master of the easy let-down, a dubious talent to be sure. I gentle my voice. “Hailey, I think you’re really nice, but I don’t see us being a good fit long-term so I don’t think we should go out again.”

“Oh. Was there anything…wrong? Did I say something or do something to offend you?”

I shake my head quickly. “No, nothing like that. There just wasn’t a spark, you know?”

Her baffled expression tells me she doesn’t know, but thankfully she accepts my answer with as much grace as can be expected. “Okay, well, have a good night, Zach.”

I retreat to my truck and wait until she’s safely on her way before heading home myself. I puff out a breath, watching the cloud dissolve in front of my face. Mid-November evenings are pretty chilly in Nashville, and my heater hasn’t warmed it up in here just yet.

Another Friday night, another first date that was just…fine. Not terrible, but not awesome enough to warrant a second date. At least Hailey handled it well. I’m glad she wasn’t a crier. Or a shouter. I’ve definitely encountered both in my quest for a soulmate.

I drive home silently, not in the mood for music or a podcast, and let myself into my dark townhouse. A profound sense of weariness settles over me as I shrug off my jacket and hang it from the back of a chair. I try not to dwell on the dejected look on Hailey’s face when I turned down her offer for a second date. It’s not like I wanted to say no. Every time I go on another first date, I have hopes that it will be the one. I so badly want to go on my last first date. But truthfully, it’s getting harder and harder to maintain my optimism after years of one-and-dones.

Fun fact about me: I’ve never been on a second date.

I’m thirty years old, I’ve been dating consistently since high school, and I’ve never made it past the first date with anyone. This earned me a reputation as a player in my late teens and early twenties, which never made sense to me because one result of never getting past the first date is that I’ve also never kissed a woman. Why would I hand out goodnight kisses to girls I didn’t plan to go out with again?

By now, I’ve learned to keep my lack of “experience” to myself, not because I’m embarrassed about it, but because it’s no one else’s business. And because I made the mistake of casually sharing that fact a few times early on and realized that some girls took it as a challenge, throwing themselves at me shamelessly in order to become the one who conquered me, the one I just couldn’t resist. None of them understood that was the opposite of what I was looking for. I’m looking for the woman who makes me gravitate toward her all on my own, a pull I can’t ignore. Call me a romantic—it wouldn’t be the first time—but I want to feel a magnetic attraction that can’t be explained as anything other than fate. The proverbial spark I mentioned to Hailey.

I’ll know it when I feel it. I’m sure of it. A few girls, including my mother before she passed, accused me of having commitment issues, but it’s not that. I do want to commit. But it has to be with the right person. I won’t settle for anything less than the one made specifically for me and I for her. Logically, I don’t believe in love at first sight—but I do think I need to feel some intense chemistry and the beginnings of affection by the end of an evening together.

And where does that leave me? Brushing my teeth alone, climbing into bed alone, and watching an episode of Andy Griffith alone. And reassuring myself that it will all be worth it one day when I find “the one”.

But this weariness has been hitting more frequently lately, making it harder and harder to maintain the cycle of asking ladies out and keeping an optimistic attitude on our dates. Is this what burnout feels like? Am I burned out on dating?

Maybe I should take my friend Grant’s advice and pull back for a while.

“You know this is all optional,” he said after I lamented over a particularly bad string of first dates last month. “You can take a break anytime you want. Nobody is making you see all these women.”

I ponder this concept as Andy confiscates Barney’s bullet again. I guess I see his point, but it feels like wasting precious time to just quit cold turkey. I mean, if I want to find the future Mrs. Dawson, I need to be out there searching for her, right?

On the other hand, the way I’ve been doing things clearly hasn’t been successful thus far. If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result, then an outside observer could definitely label me crazy. Stepping back from dating is something I’ve never tried before. If I did decide to go through with it, though, I think I’d want it to be for a set amount of time. Not too long, but long enough to count as a true break. It’s mid-November, so maybe the rest of this year? No more dates until the holidays are over.

The thought crosses my mind that without my frequent dates, this could be a lonely holiday season. I frown at the TV. I just need to find something else to occupy my time. A distraction to keep me busy. Maybe I could take a trip somewhere. I used to travel frequently, but I haven’t left Nashville in a couple of years, busy with work and trying to find someone to settle down with. A change of scenery might help me keep my commitment to abstain from any attempts at romance until January. Then I can start the new year completely refreshed, still single and ready to mingle but with renewed energy.

Now I just have to figure out where to go.