How To Bring Your Love Life Back From The Dead Read Online Free

thing they’d exchanged
besides first names and headshots on the website was phone numbers.
So, she had his phone number, and she kept staring at it. She went
back to the dating website but, true to his word, he’d gotten out.
She then did a few internet searches on him before she decided she
was acting like a crazy person.
    At seven p.m., she called him. “Hey,
let’s go to a haunted house tonight.”
    “Lauren?” he answered.
    “Yes.” Oh. Nice. She hadn’t even
waited for him to answer properly. She’d just blurted it out. Her
cheeks flamed hot, and she was regretting this mad
impulse.
    “Like an actual haunted
house?”
    “No, I mean one of the ones that are
set-up with actors in them. Not an actual haunted house like on a
dare or something. That only happens in the movies. I
think.”
    She could hear the smile in his
voice. “You sound nervous.”
    “I don’t usually call guys. I wait
for them to call.”
    “I was going to call
you.”
    “I was going to wait for you to
call.”
    “I like this better,” he
said.
    “Of course you do. It’s me putting
myself out here—just waiting to be rejected.”
    “I have a history of not rejecting
you.” She didn’t like the amused implication in the
words.
    “It was the one time. I only
cancelled the one time.” And now she was feeling stupid. He hadn’t
exactly jumped on her offer.
    “So, a haunted house? I can pick you
up or we can meet there.”
    She huffed out a breath of relief.
“Or I could pick you up in like…an hour.”
    “Oh, bold. I like that.”
    She’d called him, after the article
had suggested to quit being a wimp and go for it. Bold was a good
feeling. She was in control of her destiny. She was grabbing life
by the horns. The article was right—this was better.
    He gave her his address, and she
wrote it down. It turned out he only lived three miles away, and
they’d met in the middle this morning—like it was fate—it felt like
fate. She and Daniel could be fated to be together, and they’d
needed to bump, well, slam into each other twice for them to take
the hint.
    Exactly one hour later, she was
knocking on his door. From the barking and scrambling on the other
side she could tell the dog had made it there first.
    He answered the door, and then stood
there, staring.
    “What?” she asked, embarrassed. He
was staring at her as if he’d never seen her before.
    “Nothing. You’re just…beautiful.
Hang on. Let me go throw Sherlock in the back.” He dragged the dog
through the house while the dog resisted and howled the whole
way.
    It gave her time to press a hand
over her heart and convince it that his opinion on her looks didn’t
matter. Much. She wasn’t going to get all gooey because he said she
was beautiful. Much.
    Roger had said she looked
“great”—though, Jerry may have disagreed.
    Still, it was not a big deal. Don’t make it a big deal.
    Then, he was back with a jacket
thrown over his arm.
    Even though it was October and
Portland, the weather had turned early this year, and the air had a
bite to it. While they were standing in line for the haunted house,
she scooted closer to him to be warm. As if it was the most natural
thing in the world, he put his arm around her and kept
talking.
    Just like that.
    No drama. No hair shirts. No Jerry.
It almost felt too easy. A relationship should feel more awkward,
shouldn’t it? He was too nice and perfect. She was too comfortable
and happy. This was magic, the giddy feeling in her heart seemed to
agree with that. It had never felt this good to be with a
guy.
    “What?” he asked, seeing her
smile.
    “Nothing. Just you. I think a
twenty-one year old version of me would have really liked you is
all.”
    He looked perplexed, not that she
could blame him. “Does this other version of you have a different
name…and is it Jerry?”
    She laughed and snuggled closer to
his side.
    The line moved, and they inched
along with it, but he kept his arm around her. “How does