The British Are Coming, The British Are Coming

I have a confession to make: I’m a huge sucker for a man with an accent. Whether it’s that twinkle in their eye, the way they have mastered that half “nice guy”, half “bad boy” smirk that makes their upper lip curl, or it’s just the way they say my name, a guy with an accent makes me weak in the knees and I am totally immune to the left swipe.

One night during a commercial break from Scandal, my girlfriend and I decided we would see what was going on in the world of Bumble. Not finding much, I kept swiping left until my finger landed on this ruggedly handsome British man with a perfectly chiseled jaw line, a body to match, and of course that tilt smirk that just suckered me right in. I mean here, have my panties already, mate!

Building up the courage to swipe right and pushing past any fear of rejection, I took a chance. I moved my finger to the right and we matched. Flustered, I sat there in a moment of disbelief. Finally coming to, I realized I needed to make the first move, or I would be a goner forever and not in a good way!

If you aren’t on Bumble or have never heard of this program, Bumble is a dating app where women initiate the conversation. In this situation, I used one of my tricks that I have shared before on the Modern Day Girlfriend. I looked for something in his profile that I could relate to in order to help get the conversation going. In his pictures, I noticed he was posing with a dog and he had an arm sleeve of tattoos. I have tattoos and I LOVE any kind of dog, so I went with the safer question and asked about his dog (The tattoo question could have turned sexual real fast and I didn’t want to go that route right off the bat).

Armed with my question, I fired away and hit him in his soft spot. With a quick response back, we hit it off immediately. We talked over the app for a couple of hours until I felt comfortable enough to exchange numbers with him to set up a date. We made plans for a Friday night and I suggested we get a group of single friends together and see where the night lead. He thought it was a “brilliant idea” (read that with a British accent, swoon).

That Friday night, my girlfriends came over for a pre-drink before we met up with the guys. As we sipped on some cocktails, we did what any normal group of girlfriends would do before meeting guys for a date in today’s society- we Googled them, mainly my Brit.

While looking through his Instagram feed, my friend looked at me and said,

“umm I think he has a girlfriend?”

I was already aware of the photos she was talking about and reassured her he didn’t have a girlfriend. Again, if you haven’t read my blog about vetting guys you meet online before going out on a date with them, I’ll explain that in further detail (click here). The photos she was talking about also were from a month prior (some people just leave them up after a breakup). I also brought up the point that why would he accept me as a friend on Instagram if I could see he was in a relationship?

“Good point,” my friend said.

I told her, “Not to worry I will call him out if I need to.”

We knocked a few down and went to meet up with the guys.

We all met up for some life size margaritas and watched an awkward Tinder date go down beside us! We butted in on the other date’s conversation and had a few good laughs with them. As we continued getting to know one another, the conversation was flowing just as quickly as the tequila. The night was just starting, but the girls and I had some finishing up to do on our drinks before our next stop, so we sent the boys over ahead of us to get stuff situated.

As we finished up and got to the next location, I couldn’t get a hold of my British bad boy. My girls were over it (it had been 1 minute, seriously). Major cock block ladies, but the girls were done and had already called an Uber. I wasn’t going to be left outside alone, so I hopped in the car with them. By the time the girls and I got to our next stop, bad boy had texted me letting me know he was outside looking for me. OF COURSE HE WAS! I told him what happened and where we ended up. Thinking he would be annoyed he said, “okay, I will be right there!”

Texting me his ETA as he was getting closer, I looked up from my phone to see him walk through the door. Leading with his smirk, I felt like I was in dream, or it could have just been the tequila talking. We locked eyes until he came over and kissed me passionately. I had to sit down. I was knocked off my feet. As the night progressed, we continued to make out and closed the place down.

Once the lights turned on in the bar, a group of us hopped into an Uber to go home. The whole car ride he was texting me sweet nothings (I guess that’s our generations form of whispering) as I was less then an arm’s length distance away from him.

Our Uber finally stopped and we were outside his place. He looked at me and said,

“Do you want to come in?”

“YES” I screamed in my head, but I didn’t want to be “that girl.” Before I knew it, my hand was in his hand and my foot was out of the car door.

As I continued to walk I thought to myself,

1. Your friends know where you are.
2. Your phone is fully charged.
3. You know this neighborhood.
4. I’ll be okay.

As we made it to the front door, he pushed me up against his door kissing me harder than ever before. We spent a moment kissing under the stars and laughing at the fact we would never make it inside. With a few failed attempts we finally did.

I think it is safe to say you know what happened next! (It’s sorta in the title of the blog!)

After a night to remember, we woke up the next morning tangled up in each other. As he kissed me on my forehead, we shared in a few good laughs talking about the night before. As we lay in bed, he picked up my head ever so gently with the tips of his fingers placed right under my chin and stared me for a second. His eye contact was firm and as he leaned in for a kiss he whispered,

“ I like you a lot .”

UMMM…… “Is this real life?” I thought to myself, but instead I said,

“ I like you too.”

Tracing my lower lip with his tongue, a loud knock at his front door caused him to bite down on my lower lip hard! Both jolted from our serene moment, my heart started to race as he quickly threw his shorts on and I tried to get into my dress from the night before. I was trying to come up with a story in my head if I were to come face to face with the girl screaming on the other side of the door. This is the best excuse I could come up with,

“Hey, thanks for letting me crash on your couch and tell your friend Bob to call me sometime. I know he had to leave early.”

Bob? Really, like this guy had a friend name Bob!

It was the best I could think of at the time. Honestly, I would say anything to get myself out of this awkward situation. I was stuck in his apartment, so I just tried to play it cool and waited for the storm to pass.

Finally after 5 minutes or so he came in and I simply said, “That was your ex, huh?”

I could see the sense of shock in his face. “How did you know?” he asked.

Sarcastically I answered, “There is only one person that has that type of knock and that is a woman on a mission.”

What happened next you might ask? There were not white picket fences or happily ever after. More like realistically ever after. He and his “ex” got back together and well for me, I am still fishing in the pond just not across the pond anymore.

Featured Image: Pinterest