Three Blind Dates (Dating by Numbers Series Book 1)

by Meghan Quinn

  “You have to PROMISE you won’t tell anyone. I mean it, Alex. You can’t brag to your other accountant friends, or tell the checkout person at the grocery store, and you absolutely can’t tell your neighbors by putting a billboard out in your front yard.”

  “I did that as a joke, once, settle down. I won’t make any billboards.”

  “And you won’t tell anyone.”

  “Promise, I won’t tell anyone.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath and quickly say, “It’s Hayden Holmes.”

  There’s silence on the other end of the line right before Alex screams at the top of his lungs. “Lauren, LAUREN!!!” His voice cracks while screaming. “For the love of God, LAUREN! Noely is going out with Hayden Fucking Holmes.”

  “What happened to not telling anyone?”

  “Lauren doesn’t count.” He takes a deep breath and then . . . “Lauren, did you hear me? Hayden Fucking Holmes. Noely is banging him. LAUREN!”

  “I am not,” I say over his yelling. “We had one date.” Soon to be two.

  “Jesus Christ, your face is red. What’s happening?” I hear Lauren say off in the distance.

  “Noely is dating Hayden Fucking Holmes.”

  “It’s actually just Hayden Holmes,” I try to correct over Lauren’s screaming.

  “Put it on speaker, put it on speaker.”

  “I don’t know how to.”

  “Liar.”

  There is fumbling of the phone and then Lauren’s very-loud, ear-piercing scream projects into my living room.

  “You’re dating Hayden Holmes? Is that the jock you were talking about on the show? I mean, I thought you might be dating someone who was a professional athlete but not the most sought-after hockey player.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” I respond, trying to tamp down their excitement. “He’s just a normal guy.”

  “No way, nope, not even close,” Alex chimes in. “Hayden Fucking Holmes is not a normal guy. No normal guy can handle a puck like he can. He’s a god, a fucking god on ice.”

  Oh Jesus. Can you see why I didn’t want to tell my brother, or Lauren for that matter? Maybe subconsciously that’s why I didn’t tell Dylan right away either.

  “Okay, well I’m going to go now.”

  “Why?” Lauren questions with curiosity in her voice, excited curiosity. “Is he coming over?”

  “Ehh—”

  “Oh my GOD! He’s coming over to your house, isn’t he? I can smell it. I can smell the promise of sweaty, hot hockey sex in the air.”

  “What’s hockey sex?” Alex asks.

  “You know . . . the kind where he rips her clothes off, lifts her above his head, and eats her out while spinning around the room like he’s on the ice.”

  “That’s not fucking hockey sex. That’s figure-skating sex. Hockey sex is more like she holds pucks over her nipples while he fucks her on the bench in the locker room,” Alex counters.

  “No way, it has to be on the ice. He’s going to take her to the rink tonight, flip on the scoreboard and play porn while he fucks her over the goal. They’re both wearing skates of course, porn everywhere, blaring through the speakers, there’s a hockey stick involved somehow, and he’s all veiny and sweaty and says things like my semen are scoring tonight.”

  And that’s my cue . . .

  I hang up and toss my phone on the coffee table. That got out of control and quickly. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. They’re going to make this a living hell for me. Their obsession with hockey, let alone Hayden Holmes, is unhealthy and now that they know I’m possibly dating him, I can foresee some unscheduled visits . . .

  Oh shit.

  I pick up my phone and quickly type out a group text.

  Noely: I swear on your lives, if you show up here tonight, I will: 1. Never speak to you again, and 2. Make sure you are banned from all LA Quakes games. I have the powers; don’t make me do it.

  I don’t really have the powers, but they don’t know that.

  Noely: P.S. We’re not having wild hockey sex, whatever the hell that is. Leave us alone.

  Their responses come in at rapid fire.

  Alex: I thought you needed your toilet fixed. I can come fix it right now. I will be right over.

  Lauren: I made you muffins. Don’t you want my apple cinnamon muffins fresh out of the oven?

  Alex: All my clothes are dirty, so I’ll be wearing an LA Quakes jersey, hope that isn’t a problem.

  Lauren: All my clothes are dirty too. I’ll be coming topless, hope that’s okay.

  Alex: Is it weird that I want to watch the hockey sex?

  Lauren: Is it weird that I want to watch it and replicate it right there on the spot, move for move?

  Count to ten, count to freaking ten. I take deep breaths, letting the air slowly release through my nose, eyes shut, yet tension is consuming me. They’re not going to mess this up for me; they’re not . . .

  Please, God. Don’t let them mess this up. This is the second date. I am not dating Hayden Holmes yet, but I do want the chance to.

  Noely: Remember those season tickets I promised? Consider them sold to someone else if you show up here tonight. I will not even feel bad about it. And don’t call me. I swear on Martha, I will sell those tickets so fast. Got it?

  Martha, Chloe’s doll. She’s the reason Alex and Lauren have been able to lead a somewhat normal life with a five-year-old. Martha is the savior of their lives. Martha is Chloe’s best friend and they will do anything and I mean, ANYTHING, to keep Martha happy. Oh, Martha wants a tea party? Lauren makes three different kinds of scones and lays out an entire spread with her nice china. Martha wants to watch Bubble Guppies? Alex switches the channel. Martha is the boss, and I know this, and to hell if I’m NOT going to use that to my advantage.

  Alex: Leave Martha out of this, for Christ’s sake!

  Lauren: Don’t you dare bring Martha into this hockey-sex world.

  Noely: Don’t force me to do so. I have no qualms with unbraiding Martha’s hair.

  Alex: You BEAST!

  Lauren: For the love of all boners, don’t touch her hair. I swear to God, don’t touch her hair. We will stay away. Okay? But promise us one thing . . .

  Noely: What?

  Lauren: Tell him we said hi.

  I huff and roll my eyes, hard, like the most exaggerated eye-roll you’ll ever see.

  Noely: Fine, I’ll tell him you said hi. I will even send you a message of me doing it.

  Alex: Oh God, I have a boner.

  Lauren: Excuse me while I go twiddle my husband and myself.

  Those two. Way too much information. I toss my phone back on the coffee table and go to my bathroom, wanting to make sure that conversation didn’t make me pull all my hair out subconsciously. I mean . . . Hayden Fucking Holmes is going to be here any minute. I have to make sure everything is in place.

  Yes, I said Hayden Fucking Holmes, because guess what, he is a GOD!

  ***

  “Oh shiiiiiit,” Hayden says while covering his mouth. His large frame is taking up a good percentage of my couch, feet up on the coffee table—after he asked of course, such good manners—and one of his long arms is around my shoulders, pulling me close to his side. “Tell me he’s not trying to woo her, not after he put her out of business.”

  “He’s wooing,” I say with a big smile, loving how Hayden is so into the movie.

  “Damn, Joe Fox has some big balls.” Hayden shakes his head. “I mean, he’s insulted her, stood her up, and took away her last memory of her mom, and he thinks he can turn around and woo her with some flowers and promises of wanting to be friends? Wow, I need some Joe Fox swagger.” Um no. Your swagger works just fine.

  “He’s pretty convincing, isn’t he?”

  “Hell, after his little speech, I think I would be having the same thoughts as Meg Ryan right now. Look at the wheels turning in her head.” Hayden laughs. “Fuck, this movie is good.”

  A laugh trickles up from the depths of my
stomach and lights up Hayden’s face. I try desperately not to react when his eyes—seductively—cast a serious glance in my direction.

  Take it slow.

  Become friends, pull a Joe Fox. Don’t rush into things. That’s what happened with the last two dates. There is time to have wild hockey sex—yes, I thought it—but let’s focus on the bond we’re sharing right now. Just because he’s staring at your lips doesn’t mean you should thrust your tongue in his direction.

  But, he’s licking his lips . . .

  My phone buzzes next to me for the hundredth time, at least that’s what it feels like.

  Whatever thoughts were running through Hayden’s head pause as he clears his throat and nods at my phone. “Uh, is everything okay? Your phone has been buzzing all night.”

  I know exactly who it is. Of course they wouldn’t let me get away with not messaging them.

  I sigh and pause the movie. “It’s my brother and sister-in-law. They, uh, saw the show where I talked about dating a jock, and they battered me into telling them who it was. I’m sorry, I know it’s probably—”

  “It’s okay,” Hayden says with a smile. “My brothers were hounding me too. I told them I was going out with a hot morning show host.”

  Cue a huge blush in my cheeks.

  “Oh.” Feeling shy, but also incredible—thank you, Hayden—I say, “Well, they threatened to come over here because they’re huge fans of The Quakes and you. I told them to leave us alone and said I would message them telling you they said hi.”

  “Ah.” Hayden knowingly nods. “Let’s FaceTime them.”

  “Oh my God, no. I’ll just text them really quick.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Nodding at my phone again, he says, “Hand me your phone.”

  “Hayden, you don’t have to do this.”

  “I want to. Honestly, I kind of want to see if your brother screams like a girl.” A giant laugh rumbles from the pit of my stomach. Oh my God. He is my people.

  Now that he says it, I kind of want to see if Alex screams as well. Alex will legit soil himself. Wanting to see my brother cry on FaceTime, because I know that’s also what will happen, I hand Hayden my phone after I scroll past the fifty texts from him and Lauren and call them on FaceTime.

  We both prop each other up but instead of holding the phone so we’re both in the picture, Hayden only has the camera on him. Oh God, Alex is going to lose his mind.

  The phone stops chiming and connects so the picture we’re seeing is of the ceiling. Chloe must have Alex’s phone. I giggle . . . hard.

  “Uh.” Hayden looks at me.

  I whisper, “Chloe, their five-year-old must have the phone. Tell her hi.”

  “Hello?”

  “Who’s this? Why do you have my aunt’s phone?” She’s still not good at pointing the camera at her face, so all we see is the top of her head.

  “I’m your aunt’s friend. Is your, uh, dad there?”

  “He’s in the kitchen eating his feelings.”

  Both Hayden and I snort. That is so something Alex would say. What an idiot.

  “Do you think you could take him the phone?”

  “Yeah. Hold on, Martha. We’ll take pictures in a second.”

  With a confused pinch in his brow, Hayden mouths, “Martha?”

  I giggle some more and whisper, “Her doll. They’re best friends.”

  “Daddy!” Chloe shouts, causing Hayden and I to jump from how loud she is. For a little girl, she has some pipes. “Daddy, a man wants to talk to you.”

  “What?” You can hear Alex ask in the background.

  “I told him you’re eating your feelings but he still wants to talk to you.”

  “Don’t . . .” Alex pauses. “Christ, don’t tell people that.”

  “I’m not gonna lie, Daddy. Can I have a donut?” The phone that’s been jostled around is now tossed so all we can see is black. She must have put it face down. “Please, Daddy?”

  “Yes, but don’t tell your mom.”

  Hayden snorts, and I watch in fascination as his neck muscles bounce when he chuckles. So sexy.

  “Don’t run with it in your mouth. Christ!” Sighing, Alex picks up his phone and brings it to his ear. “Hello?”

  “FaceTime, dude,” Hayden says in a deep voice, deeper than usual. I clamp my hand over my mouth, holding back my laughter.

  “What?” Alex pulls the phone away and when his eyes take in the screen, they shoot wide open and he jostles it in his hand until it crashes to the ground. “Fuck. Fucking hell. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Holy Fuck!” Clambering for the phone, he jostles with it some more until he finally brings it to his face. The picture is shaky. He’s a blubbering mess right now. “Oh fuck. Oh FUCK!” His hand goes to his forehead. “Oh shit, it’s . . . it’s . . .” His eyes start to water and I don’t think I’ve ever been more happy in my entire life.

  “Hey man.”

  Stunned, speechless, jaw wide open, Alex stares at the phone and then before Hayden can say anything else, Alex yells at the top of his lungs and starts running. “Lauren. LAUREN!” His voice cracks.

  He pushes through a door and you can hear Lauren say, “What the hell, Alex? Did you—?”

  “It’s Hayden Fucking Holmes. Look, he’s on the FaceTime. Look!”

  “What?” Lauren twists the phone so she’s looking at the screen and . . . cue the screaming. “Oh my GOD!!! It’s Hayden Fucking Holmes!”

  There is nothing to really do but laugh, and laugh hard. Hayden and I sit there, our chests falling up and down, chuckling together as Lauren and Alex freak out.

  “I need to show him my boobs,” Lauren says. “Unzip my dress, Alex, undo my bra.”

  “On it,” he calls out, as if his wife showing Hayden her boobs is the most natural thing ever.

  Hayden looks at me and mouths, “He’s okay if she shows me her boobs?” I snort and roll my eyes. There really are no words to explain the insanity that is my brother and sister-in-law.

  I snag the phone from Hayden and sternly say, “All articles of clothing are to stay on. Now, calm down, take deep breaths, and try to act like normal adults or else I will hang up and turn my phone off for the night.”

  “Don’t hang up,” they say at the same time in a panic.

  “Okay, then get yourselves together. I’m going to hand the phone back to Hayden and you’re going to act like adults, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “All clothes are on.”

  “I’m going to piss myself,” Alex whispers to Lauren, but we both hear it . . . clear as day.

  Shaking my head at my family, I hand Hayden the phone and say, “You asked for this.”

  Relaxing into the couch, casual as ever, Hayden brings the phone in front of him. “Hey, you guys. Noely has spoken very highly of the both of you.”

  Gobsmacked, mouths hanging open, they just stare at the phone.

  “Uh, so I heard you were big fans of the LA Quakes.”

  “Fans,” Alex mutters. Is that . . . drool coming out of his mouth?

  “Okay, uh, so I was wondering, we have a little exhibition coming up on Thursday. Thought maybe you guys might want to attend with Noely. I can get you some good seats and some of my jerseys. How does that sound?”

  “I like hockey,” Lauren says, her hand falling to the cleavage of her dress, her finger starting to tug on the fabric. Oh Jesus.

  Nodding, and feeling a little awkward, Hayden says, “Okay. Well, I’ll set everything up with Noely. Nice meeting you two.” He hands the phone back to me and chuckles.

  When I come back into view, Alex and Lauren lose their minds, speaking at rapid pace over each other, to the point that I can’t understand a damn word they’re saying. All I hear is fucking god, nip slip, hockey sex, and something about being hit in the head by a puck.

  Not wanting to put up with this, I hang up and tuck the phone under my leg. Turning toward one another, Hayden and I lose it completely, buckling over in laughter. “You realize what you just di
d, right? You invited two crazies to your game.”

  He shrugs. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. It’s funny and looks like I made their day.”

  “Year, Hayden. You made their year.”

  “All the better.” Slipping his arm back around my shoulder, he says, “Let’s get back to this movie. I want to learn more about this Joe Fox swagger.” And so we do. What a night.

  ***

  “Keep the bags. If I take them home, I will eat them in one day. Can’t afford all the sugar.”

  “But you brought over five bags of popcorn. We ate one. What am I supposed to do with all of this? Especially since I provided a bag myself, like we talked about.”

  Hayden shrugs unapologetically. “Take it to work, be the girl that everyone likes because she brings in the best popcorn ever.”

  “Hmm.” I tap my chin. “Being that girl does sound like fun.”

  “Everyone likes that girl.”

  “They do. And if I say it’s from my jock, they will like me even more.”

  He taps my nose, almost brotherly. “Now there’s an idea.”

  The last few hours have been fun and very . . . platonic. I mean, yeah, we snuggled, but there was no inappropriate touching, there was no making out, and there sure as hell wasn’t any hands in pants.

  I know, I know, take it slow, build a relationship, blah, blah, blah. But would it hurt him to make a teensy tiny move? Like an accidental nipple graze? Maybe an oops, is my hand down your pants? Didn’t mean to do that? Hell, at this point, I would settle for an accidental linking of our pinky fingers. But nothing.

  Just a bop to the nose, an arm around my shoulder, and a possible heated look here and there. And to be honest, I’m not sure if it was a heated look, or if it was my horny self wearing sex-ified goggles making me believe there is something going on when in fact, there is nothing.