His eyes were glowing all of a sudden, and the smile disappeared off his face. “What?”
She was just teasing, but he was easy to mess with, and this response was fun. “My mom set up a dating app for me last year,and it’s just been sitting there waiting for me to answer all those messages.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “Show me this dating app.”
She snickered and opened the app, but her mom had set up the password, so she had to reset it to one she knew. It took a few minutes to get into it, and then she handed her phone over to him.
“There are twelve hundred messages in here.”
“Twelve hundred? Really? Whoo, I’m popular.”
His frown deepened as he scrolled. “What did your mom do? Upload titty pics of you on here? Twelve freaking hundred? Where are all these males coming from? Oh my God.” He turned her phone around and showed her a picture of herself. She was all done up, with false lashes and hair extensions and had four plates of food in front of her. She was grinning big with a French fry in her hand. “This is a dude magnet picture, Destiny.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She ate a bite of brisket and chewed slowly as he scrolled through the rest of her profile page. “Can you send me all of these pictures?” he gritted out.
“Why?” she asked innocently.
“So I can save them on my phone. And take them off of here. I don’t like these assholes looking at you.”
“You said earlier that men can look.”
“I take it back. Fuck men.” He made a scoffing noise and turned the phone toward her. In it, she was at a shooting competition, dressed in all black gear, handgun held ready for the judge to say she could start. She had her hair pulled back into a ponytail and protective glasses and earplugs in. “I don’t like this.”
“Well, you’re going to have to deal with it. It’s who I am. I like to shoot.”
“No, not that part. I love that part. I don’t like that these guys are messaging you thinking they have a chance with you.”
“I’ve never even looked at the messages.”
He opened them up, clearly, because he pulled a disgusted face. “I don’t think you want to. Is this what it’s like on dating apps for a female?” he asked, appalled.
“I don’t know. I’ve never messed with one. My mom uploaded all those pictures and wrote the bio. I don’t even know what is says.”
“Loves trucks, guns, men who act like men, is independent, has a good job, doesn’t need a sugar daddy, loathes walks on the beach, cooks like a chef and is ready to be wifed up.” He looked appalled. “That’s a quote. Your mom then put what I’m assuming is your bra size down at the bottom.”
“What?”
“Thirty-four C?”
“Oh my gosh,” she uttered as she yanked the phone from his hands, and yep. Sure enough. Mom sure had done that. “How do I freaking edit this,” she muttered, poking around in her profile. She glanced up, and he was on his phone. “What are you doing?”
“Setting up my own dating app account, I’m messaging all of those assholes.”
“You don’t know them.”
“I memorized the first thirty user names. First up? Lickmuhballs underscore Harold.”
She pitched forward laughing.
“It’s not funny.”
She pursed her lips but her laughter bubbled out of her still.
He cracked a little smile and cocked his head at her. “I don’t like it.”
“Well, I don’t think friends can give an opinion on this stuff.”
“Destiny,” he growled.
