Missing out on life was kind of Spencer's specialty. From wasted teenage years to his early adult years, which were, you guessed it, wasted. It was comfortable, and he'd always chalked it up to being different. He preferred books rather than company. So what?

Well, now Spencer was a miserable 40 year old scrambling to get into the dating scene. And that stuff is not forgiving to you when you're nearing midlife crisis.

Suit, cologne, slightly messy hair? Or maybe it should be neat? What made him look like he had his own life under control? He had been fussing over his appearance for the past three hours, which was a new personal record. And it was all because he'd gotten a date. Yup, a real date. He couldn't believe it either.

"Fuck." A quiet curse slipped past his lips at just one glance at his watch. He was going to be late.

Traffic laws didn't apply for just that night, and in the end, he managed to stumble through the restaurant doors only a whopping 10 minutes late. Good job, Reid.

"I'm so sorry." He tumbled out the quick apology. "So much traffic. Unbelievable. At 10 pm on a Thursday. Yeah, that makes sense. Uh, I'm terribly sorry."