Walking away from my marriage was my idea of a fresh start.
My kid is in college, my ex-wife and I are on good terms ... but being single in my forties is a world different to being single in my teens.
I'm thankful for my best friend, Heath. He's got my back like he always does and is ready to take me out and show me how the bachelor life is done.
He was never supposed to show me literally.
After we wake up in bed together, I can't stop looking at him differently, and one thing becomes abundantly clear.
I talk a big talk about wanting to be single, but my platonic rule book has gone out the window.
When my best friend comes to me for help post-divorce, I'm only too happy to impart my wisdom to him.
After all, Griffin isn't my type, but even I can tell he's a complete lumbersnack. Good with his hands, kind eyes, and a killer smile. All the guys and gals are gonna eat him alive.
But the more time we spend together, the less "not my type" he becomes. I'm the one who can't get enough of him.
Neither of us is interested in a relationship, so what's a little fun between friends?
We both know the score.