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“Eh, not really.”
I’m just trying to get laid. That’s what he meant. And there was the inherent problem with Tinder: it was just like picking up someone at the bar. The stuff about being interested in theater was only a precursor to sex. His way in.
Not that I wasn’t okay with having just sex with Braden. I was very okay with that. But I could feel myself hoping for more than that.
“What about you?” he said, turning the tables on me. “You got a date?”
I had a few options here. Pretend I was meeting with a friend, which would kind of be true. Tell him I had a date, play hard to get a little.
“It’s actually a Tinder hookup,” I said bluntly.
He bobbed his head and said, “Oh, nice.” Was he disappointed? It was tough to tell. He was good at hiding his emotions, which I guess shouldn’t be surprising for an actor.
“Yeah, we’ll see,” I said. “You never know how these things will go.”
Braden shrugged and sipped his beer. “I wouldn’t know.”
I frowned at him. “You’ve never hooked up with someone on Tinder?”
“Honestly?” he replied. “Nope.”
Okay, now he was flat-out lying. Either that or this was his first time on Tinder too, but that seemed unlikely, and my admission gave him the perfect way in to tell me about his date. My first reaction was annoyance, but then my heart leaped as I found a justification: maybe he’s lying because he cares what I think about him. He didn’t want me to think he was a player.
“Why not?” I asked casually. “Is Tinder not your kind of thing?”
He shrugged one shoulder while searching for the answer. “It just seems kind of meaningless. Like picking someone up at the bar, but with even less personal connection. You might as well be ordering take-out. I understand why it’s popular—my friends are big into it, which is a long story by itself. But I prefer to get to know someone the old fashioned way. Pick their brain, ask them about their hobbies. I like to know who I’m with before I’m with them.”
I nodded along, each word hammering away at my inhibition. It was like he was reading lines right out of my own brain.
“But it’s totally cool that you’re into that,” he added. “No judgement here. It’s just not my style.”
A had a sinking feeling in my gut. We were totally similar, but I’d sort of lied to him about the whole thing. Now he thought I was someone completely different.
Fuck!
I rose from the booth. “I’ll be right back.”
I fled to the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. Had I totally fucked up whatever chance I might have had with him? What was the deal with the Tinder invite, then? If I called him on it, he might get defensive. I didn’t want to start things out like that.
I touched up my makeup, unbuttoned one of the buttons to my top, then pulled out my phone to send him another Tinder message.
Angela: Hey, I’m going to have to bail. Not feeling good tonight. Rain check?
When I returned to the booth, Braden was looking at his phone. His face remained blank, but I could see the confusion hidden underneath.
“I have an idea,” I said.
He put away his phone. “What’s that?”
I leaned across the booth, giving him a look at my cleavage. “I’m having a lot more fun with you than a random Tinder date. Why don’t we cancel our plans and have a few more drinks together?”
He cocked his head and answered without hesitation. “You know what? I’d love that.”
“I’m starving, so I’m gonna grab us another pitcher of beer and a plate of nachos.”
We shared a smile before I got up and went to the bar.
I was feeling pretty smooth right about then. I’d navigated the awkwardness of us matching on Tinder and segued it into a real date between us. If it went well, then I’d tell him that I was Angela and we could both have a good laugh about it.
