The Boyfriend Blog Read online

  The Boyfriend Blog

  K.L. Grayson

  Copyright © 2019 by K.L. Grayson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locale, or events is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  Editor: Chelle Olson

  Proof reader: Tiffany Martindale

  Cover photo: Lauren Watson Perry

  Cover Designer: Sommer Stein (Perfect Pear Creative Covers)

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Lizzie

  2. Aiden

  3. Aiden

  4. Lizzie

  5. Aiden

  6. Lizzie

  7. Lizzie

  8. Lizzie

  9. Lizzie

  10. Aiden

  11. Lizzie

  12. Lizzie

  13. Aiden

  14. Lizzie

  15. Lizzie

  16. Lizzie

  17. Lizzie

  18. Aiden

  19. Lizzie

  20. Aiden

  21. Lizzie

  22. Lizzie

  KL Grayson

  Let’s keep in touch!

  Prologue

  The Boyfriend Blog

  August 29, 2015

  Boyfriend wanted: Loyal and funny.

  Wait…I just described a dog. I should buy a dog.

  For real, though, Loyal and funny, that’s easy enough, right?

  Wrong!

  Do you ever ask yourself why dating in today’s society is so hard? Or where all the good guys are? Or what happened to dating before sex and *gasp* chivalry?

  I wish I had the answers to those questions for you, but I don’t. Unfortunately, I’m scratching my head and wondering the same things you are, which is how I ended up here in the first place.

  I never thought I’d be a blogger—especially one who writes about men and dating—and really, I’m not; I’m just a twenty-something girl who got her heart broken for the first time and, while drowning myself in a pint of cookie dough ice cream, thought to myself: Self, how many other girls out there are doing this exact thing? How many of us are loading up on carbs and sugar while mentally berating humans of the penis-wielding variety?

  I know I can’t be the only one.

  After proposing that same question to my sister, she suggested that I blog about it.

  So, whether you’re like me and are swallowing past the bitter first taste of a broken heart, or you’re on your tenth helping and somehow keep finding the courage to go back for more, this blog is for you.

  Let me start out by saying you are not alone.

  Louder for the sobbing girl in the back: YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

  Sit down, buckle up, and let’s enjoy this crazy ride of bad dating apps and even worse dates together.

  P.S. Men suck. And not in a good way.

  XOXO,

  Liz

  1

  Lizzie

  Are nap dates a thing? Because that’s something I can work with! – Liz

  “This is the last time I’m letting you set me up on a blind date.”

  My twin sister, Emily, rolls her eyes as she reaches across my lap and pushes the passenger door open. “You said that the last two times. And quit fussing with your dress,” she says, slapping my hand away from the belt she insisted I wear.

  “It’ll make you look more sophisticated,” she said. When all I really wanted to do was throw on a pair of skinny jeans, an oversized off-the-shoulder sweater, and call it good.

  Maybe that’s why I’m still single.

  “This time, I mean it. No more blind dates, and you’re never dressing me again.”

  “What’s wrong with the outfit I picked out?”

  “Nothing, except that it makes me look just like you.”

  “Newsflash: we’re identical twins. It doesn’t matter what you wear, you’ll always look like me. Now, get in there and have fun.”

  I frown and look toward the front of the restaurant.

  Somewhere behind that fancy glass door is a man of my sister’s choosing. He could be a complete douchebag, but maybe, just maybe, he’s Mr. Right. The chances are slim, considering Emily’s track record with blind date setups. However, she managed to snag herself a good man, so I’m still hopeful she can snag me one, as well.

  “Come on, Lizzie.” Emily nudges my leg. “What could possibly go wrong?”

  “Everything,” Sarah mumbles. I peer into the back seat at our friend as she picks at her chipped red nail polish. It takes a second, but she eventually realizes her mistake, glances up, and grimaces. “What I mean is—”

  “I know what you meant.” I share a knowing look with my sister. “Even Sarah knows this is going to be a disaster. Do you remember the last time you set me up on a blind date?”

  “I do. It was Gerald, and he was a very nice man.”

  “Actually, the last blind date was Jacob,” Sarah corrects. “And if I remember correctly, the first thing he did when he sat down at the dinner table was ask Liz to make a fist.”

  I cringe at the memory of holding my fist in the air and watching in horror as he tried to wrap his insanely large lips around it to see if it would fit into his mouth. Try being the operative word because I was having none of that.

  “Oh, that’s right.” At least Emily has the decency to look apologetic. “I forgot about that. Well, I’m almost one hundred percent positive that Timothy won’t try to stick your fist into his mouth.”

  “But if he’s hunky, and you’re lucky, maybe he’ll go for a different body part.” Sarah waggles her eyebrows and then laughs. “What can I say? I’m sex-deprived. My love life these days is as pathetic as yours.”

  “My love life isn’t pathetic, it’s disastrous. Big difference.”

  “It doesn’t have to be pathetic or disastrous,” Emily says. “You just haven’t found the right man.”

  “I don’t need a man.”

  Emily lifts an eyebrow.

  “I’m happy,” I say, unsure if I’m trying to convince her or myself.

  Sarah’s eyes soften, but Emily doesn’t look as convinced. “I know you are.”

  Why wouldn’t I be? I have a great job, a wonderful family, two of the best neighbors a girl could ask for—one of whom is my very best friend—and a loving, albeit overbearing sister.

  Life is great. Life is greater than great. And when I do find a good man, he’ll be creamy icing on the already delectable cake that is my life.

  “You know,” Emily starts, suddenly interested in the hem of her shirt. “It would be easier for you to find love if you didn’t spend all of your time with Aiden.”

  “Here we go.” Sarah sits back in the seat and crosses her arms over her chest. “I knew this was coming.”

  “I don’t spend all my time with Aiden.”

  “Right,” Emily scoffs. “And I’m the next presidential candidate.”

  “You’d actually make a great president,” Sarah suggests.

  Emily smiles. “I know I would, but we aren’t talking about me.”

  “For once,” I murmur.

  “I’m going to ignore that because I love you.” Emily turns in her seat to fully face me. “Where were you last night?”

  “I went grocery shopping.”

  “Alone?”

  “Aiden went with me, but he had to get groceries too, and we
live right next to each other. It makes sense to ride together.”

  Sarah nods. “Makes perfect sense.”

  “Wednesday night?” Emily asks.

  “We had a darts tournament.” I stare at my sister, who lifts a condescending brow. “What was I supposed to do? We’re on a team together.”

  “My point exactly. And what about Tuesday night?”

  “I took Edna to trivia night at the Senior Center like I do every Tuesday.”

  “Who went with you?”

  I roll my eyes. “Aiden.”

  “And after trivia night?”

  I blow out a breath and look straight ahead. “We dropped Edna off and went to Eddie’s for dinner.”

  When I glance at my sister, she smiles smugly. “What about Monday night?”

  “I had a date.”

  “Brad,” Sarah says. “Things were going great until he whipped out his phone.”

  I cringe.

  “What was wrong with his phone?” Emily asks.

  “It was wrapped in duct tape.”

  “Why?”

  Sarah chuckles from the back seat. “So the aliens and the government couldn’t listen in on their date.”

  Emily’s eyes widen. “Okay. Wow. We’re going to talk more about that later, but back to my point. What time did your date end?”

  “I was at the apartment by eight.”

  “Whose apartment?”

  “You’re a pain in my ass.”

  She grins. “Whose apartment?”

  “Aiden’s,” I say, pressing my lips together. “But I was out of ice cream, and he had a whole carton of my favorite flavor.”

  “Good man.”

  “Stop encouraging her.” Emily glares at Sarah before turning back to me. “Do you see a pattern here?”

  I toss my hands into the air. “He’s my best friend.”

  “I resent that. We shared a placenta for nine months for God’s sake. I should be your BFF.”

  Emily swears she isn’t jealous of Aiden, but every once in a while, the green-eyed monster living inside of her rears its ugly head.

  “You have Jonathan,” I say, reminding her of her gorgeous and equally sweet husband.

  “And me,” Sarah says. “You have me.”

  Emily smiles at Sarah and then brings her eyes back to me. She takes a breath and then blows it out. “I’m done lecturing you for the night, mostly because your date starts in five minutes. But think about what I said.”

  “I will.” And then I’ll forget you said it because no way will I give up my time with Aiden.

  I step out of the car and then bend down to the open window. “You know, maybe you should arrange a blind date for Sarah.”

  Sarah’s eyes widen. “Not a chance in hell.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Emily croons.

  Good, now maybe she’ll focus on someone else for a change. Smiling, I turn toward the entrance of the restaurant and send up a quick prayer.

  I know I haven’t been to church in a few weeks, but would it kill you to toss me a bone? And by bone, I mean a successful, funny, smart, kind man. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

  I smooth my hands down the front of my dress and take a step forward. A man in a crisp navy-blue suit smiles warmly and opens the front door.

  “Welcome to Aroma.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nods, and when I step through the door, I’m greeted by another man in a similar suit.

  “Good evening. Do you have a reservation tonight?”

  “I think so,” I say, looking around the dimly lit restaurant. “I’m here to meet someone.”

  “Oh, okay.” The host turns toward the restaurant and follows my gaze. “Do you see whomever you’re meeting?”

  “Well, no, I don’t exactly know what he looks like.”

  When I return my gaze to the host, he’s grinning. “A blind date? How exciting.”

  “Not really.” I place a hand on my stomach and try to calm my nerves. “His name is Timothy. I don’t know anything else—”

  “Say no more. I know exactly who you’re talking about.”

  “You do?”

  “He came in earlier and, trust me, sweetheart, you have nothing to be nervous about.” He winks, shimmies his hips, and nods toward the dining room. “Your date has manners, and he’s easy on the eyes. Can’t get much better than that. Follow me.”

  Some of the tension I’ve been holding onto drains from my body as I follow the man through the main dining area to a small room tucked in the back. I’m a few feet from a table in the corner when a man looks up and spots me.

  The first thing I notice is his easy smile and light blue eyes. When he stands to greet me, I get a glimpse of the whole package, and holy smokes what a package.

  Strong arms barely hidden by the white button-up shirt he’s wearing, broad chest, and long legs.

  Well done, Emily.

  “Told ya so,” the host whispers before looking at my date. “Your waiter will be right with you.”

  Timothy steps toward me. “You must be Lizzie.”

  He reaches for my hand, and I slip my fingers around his for a quick shake.

  “And you must be Timothy. My sister has told me nothing about you.”

  He laughs, pulls out a chair, and waits for me to sit before taking his own seat.

  “She didn’t tell me much about you either. I’m honestly a little embarrassed. I had no idea Emily had an identical twin.”

  I scrunch my nose. “You didn’t?”

  He shakes his head and takes a sip of water. “She just told me that you were her little sister.”

  “Of course, she did,” I say, pursing my lips. “She’s older than me by four and a half minutes.”

  We both chuckle, and I decide right away that I like his laugh: throaty and deep. It doesn’t give me butterflies, but it’s nice to listen to.

  “So, Timothy, how do you know my sister?”

  “Wow, she really didn’t tell you anything, did she?”

  I shake my head and reach for the glass of water sitting in front of me.

  “I’m her gynecologist.”

  Water spews from my mouth. I sputter and reach for the napkin to clean up my mess, but Timothy beats me to it.

  “She probably should’ve told you that,” he says, wiping the table in front of me.

  “It would’ve been nice. Hey, sis, just a heads up, your date has seen my vagina.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I see so many vaginas, they all eventually look alike.”

  I pick up my glass, wishing it was filled with something a tad stronger to get me through this conversation. “I have a hard time believing that.”

  “You’re right,” he chuckles again. “They don’t all look alike, but let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about you. What do you do?”

  Okay, I can do this. Who cares if he’s had his hand in my sister’s vagina? He’s probably seen her breasts, too.

  Wait…that means he’s basically seen my breasts.

  And my vagina.

  The bloke has seen me naked, and we’ve barely made it past hello.

  “Lizzie?”

  “Sorry.” I shake the thought away. “I have a degree in early childhood education.”

  “You’re a teacher? That’s wonderful. What grade?”

  “Preschool, actually. I would like to teach Kindergarten, but finding a job hasn’t been easy. I’ve put in a few applications for the next school year, so fingers crossed.”

  “I’m sure you will find something. Do you like teaching?”

  “I really do. There’s nothing better than working with kids. How about you, do you enjoy your job?”

  Timothy leans back in his seat. “Most of the time, yes.”

  “I hear a but in there. Tell me more,” I say, grateful that we seem to have moved out of the awkwardness and into an easier conversation.

  “My job is demanding. It doesn’t leave much time for this.” He waves his hand
between us. “Dating is difficult. My schedule is busy on a good day and chaotic—”

  His words are cut off by the shrill sound of his cell ringing. It skids across the table with each vibration until he picks it up. He studies the screen and then looks at me.

  “I’m sorry, I need to take this call. It’s work.”

  “Please, by all means.”

  He excuses himself from the table and waits until he’s out of earshot before answering. A few seconds later, a man approaches the table, tops off our water glasses, and hands me two menus.

  “Good evening, my name is Ethan, I’ll be your waiter tonight. I apologize that it took me so long to get over here.”

  Ethan is tall and lean with light blond hair and twin dimples that I’m certain earn him a hell of a lot of tips.

  “It’s no problem at all.”

  “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

  “I’ll have a glass of merlot, please.”

  “And for your husband?” He glances in the direction that Timothy walked.

  “Oh, he isn’t my husband. And I have no idea what he likes to drink.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll grab your merlot and check back in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  A few minutes pass, and by the time Ethan drops my wine off, there’s still no sign of Timothy.

  “Sorry if I’m being nosy, but you said the man you’re here with isn’t your husband. Is he your brother by chance?”

  “No, we’re on a blind date.”

  Ethan frowns, casts a glance over his shoulder, and then looks back at me. “I’m going to check on my other tables. I’ll swing back by in a minute and maybe your date will be back.”

  I hope. I look around, but there’s no sign of him. Maybe he had to head to the hospital, I think to myself at the same time I see him striding across the room.