Chapter One
I’m self-aware enough to admit I’m a real bitch when it’s been too long since I last got laid.
It also doesn’t help that I started thinking aboutthemthe second I crossed the state line, and it makes my skin itch. Even though my family’s lake house is about an hour away from my hometown, it’s far too close to the two people I never want to have the misfortune of ever bumping into again. So while I should’ve driven straight to my parents’ lake house from the airport, I instead pulled into the parking lot of my favorite bar.
I swipe left on a girl who I’ve hooked up with once before but definitely never will again. Right on a gorgeous tattooed woman. No match. I sigh.
“Another one, Lily?” Manny asks, and I nod.
Manny is the owner of the Broken Tavern, a six foot three boulder of a man with dark brown skin. He’s a cuddly bear deep down, unless you’re a rowdy asshole he has to toss out of his bar. He served me my first legal drink seven years ago, and he’s one of my favoritepeople here.
“How long you in town for?” Manny asks as he pours me a Blue Moon on tap.
“Ten days.”
His eyebrows lift in a show of shock. He tosses a fresh square napkin on the chipped wooden bar top and sets down my glass.
“I know,” I say and take a sip. I haven’t spent this long with my family since the summer after high school graduation. As excited as I am to spend the holidays with them, I can already hear my mom chirping away about wanting to set me up. She tries to make it sound sweet and innocent, but it’s all an elaborate trap to convince me to fall in love and move back to Michigan.
Like fuck I’d ever move back here.
Manny drifts to the end of the bar to serve the couple who just walked through the door. It’s a slow night with only a few seats taken. Christmas lights are strung around the bar, and there’s a stocking for each employee hanging behind the bar. I smile at it. Total softie.
As I continue swiping along, I worry I’m going to run out of options. It was a mistake not finding a one-night stand while I was still at home in Cali. My thumb hesitates as I stare at the beautiful woman on my phone screen.
Harlow, 31.I open her profile and scroll through her photos. She has long, silky black hair that’s pulled up into a clean topknot in every photo. She only has three and each one looks like it was taken in a different state. One with her in front of the Grand Canyon—an easy smile on her face and a golden retriever sitting at her feet, tongue flopped out their mouth. One photo is taken from behind as she stares off into the sunset—the angle highlights her strong jawline. She’s sitting in the open trunk of a van, and the same dog is lying beside her, headin Harlow’s lap. And the final photo is Harlow at the beach. She’s in a loose gray tank top and black board shorts with little palm trees. She’s throwing a frisbee in the direction of the waves, and her dog is captured mid sprint, chasing after it. Harlow is tall, curvy, anddamn, does she have a great ass.
I swipe right and hold my breath for the shortest of seconds until relief floods my veins as “It’s A Match!” pops up on the screen. I don’t hesitate to message her.
Lily:
You have the cutest pup
Harlow:
Thanks!!
Harlow’s typing.
Harlow:
She’s even cuter in person
I smirk at her words, the invitation threaded within them. I make it clear in my bio that I’m constantly on the go for work. As a pilot who has my eyes set on making captain, to say I travel a lot is an understatement. I’m never in the same city for long, and that includes the one I get my mail delivered to. So I’m on the app for one thing and one thing only, and it’s definitely not to fall in love—much to my mother’s dismay.
Lily:
Oh really? I’d love to find that out for myself
Harlow:
What’re you doing tonight?
Lily:
Meeting the cutest dog ever in person. Obviously
Harlow:
