Iget home and stop short when I see Decker sitting on the couch. Alone. On a Friday night.
“No date tonight?” I ask, moving to the kitchen to grab a drink.
He looks freshly showered with his hair still damp, and I can’t believe this man wouldn’t be with a woman tonight. It’s only nine o’clock.
“Already sent her home,” Decker says, turning off the TV and giving me his full attention. “She had somewhere to be, so it was a quick fuck. Sorry to disappoint. I know how much you like to listen.”
Rolling my eyes, I lean on the counter. “Whatever.”
“You’re home early. Alone. Thought you had a date, too.”
“You cannot laugh.”
“Can’t promise that.”
I shake my head and move to sit on the other end of the couch. I’m wearing a dress with built-in shorts, thinking I was going to get a ride on a motorcycle but still wanted to look cute. Instead, the only benefit I get from wearing it is not having to stripcompletely naked to pee and having pockets. It’s really the only highlight of this evening.
As I look at Decker, I’m overcome with how weird this is. Decker and I don’t talk. Not really talk. All we typically do is friendly banter in passing. Unless we’re drunk. And neither of us are.
This might be our first real conversation.
“I’m testing a new dating app,” I admit. “And I know you’re going to think I’m crazy just like Mona does. But it’s geared towards book lovers.”
His brows furrow. “What the fuck does that even mean?”
“Well, most of the world likes to read these things called books. They hold a wide variety of stories, and many of us find it as a way to escape. And many of the readers—probably women, mostly—read romance novels.”
“I read, asshole,” he says. “But you’re talking chick lit. Book porn. Okay, got it. Go on.”
The way he waves his hand in front of him, signaling for me to continue, makes me smile. He shifts to face me, and I do the same. It feels almost… natural.
I’m also suddenly taken aback. Decker Thomas reads? This is something I have to see. I figured the most he read was the articles besides the pictures of naked women in old issues ofPlayboy.Or do they still publish the magazine?
Great, now I have to Google that later.
“You pick dates based on the tropes you like to read.”
“What the fuck is a trope? It sounds kinky.”
Laughing as he wiggles his eyebrows up and down, I shake my head. “No. Well, maybe. Depends on the trope. It’s basically the type of story you like to read. Like Single Parent or Military, Small Town or Fake Relationship. Kinky might come in more with Erotica and BDSM.”
The way Decker studies me makes me squirm. His eyes are unbelievably sexy, and he burns me with his gaze. The best kind of burn.
“What’s the point of this, exactly?” he asks.
“To find someone who matches what you like to read. Basically, you get to create your own love story.”
“And this appeals to you?”
It comes out as curiosity more than disbelief, and I feel a little better. “I’m tired of the bad dates. The men who aren’t real men. They either want only sex, or they want you to fit into a traditional role while not reciprocating. Or—worse yet—mama’s boys. It’s exhausting.”
“And you really think this app can give you what you want?”
“You’ve noticed my sexual drought, so my normal tactic of organically finding men who want to date me is clearly lacking. But yes, I think I have a better chance of finding someone I can fall in love with.”
His eyebrow lifts. “That’s what you want? Love?”
“I know it’s probably difficult for you to understand because you’re the complete opposite of a commitment type guy and like having different girls every night, but I want a guy who wants more than a night. Or a few weeks. Someone who wants a real future.”
