Not only will he look like Theo James’s younger, hotter cousin, but he’ll be kind and funny and intelligent and successful and totally not weird. And you know what I do? I do what I do every time. But still, here I sit, on a hard wooden chair in a quaint London pub, Celine Dion belting out that her heart will go on even when Leonardo di Caprio is long gone. I’m going in blind, people, and it does not feel good. Not even an old person’s Facebook profile. The only problem for me right now is, the guy I’m about to meet is some kind of 90s throwback. I guess the one saving grace of having Google at your fingertips is that you never have to go into a blind date truly blind. I mean, you get your hopes up until they’re jostling with the clouds, only for them to come crashing back down into the weeds when you find out the guy is an idiot, a psychopath, a jerk-or all of the above. They’re super awkward and they rarely go well. W PROLOGUE ho likes blind dates? Anyone? Yeah, that’s what I thought.
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