“Bachelor of the year, my ass,” I grumbled as I opened the door to my apartment, closing it behind me with more force than strictly necessary. “You would think that it’d be possible to meet someone who was actually interested in getting to know me, and not just the balance of my checkbook.”
With a sigh, I kicked off of my shoes, dropping my keys in the small bowl on the table by the front door. I threw the magazine with yet another article about me next to it even as I loosened my tie. I walked to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge before heading to my room. I took a long swig from the bottle, then put it down as I contemplated whether to order a pizza or something, or simply skip dinner altogether. I most definitely wasn’t in the mood to go out, tonight of all nights. Fucking Valentine’s Day. Continue reading