Boom.
Take that, Ryan. Maybe the man of her dreams would click on her photo any minute now. Or at least a bad boy to give her the hot fling she’d been lusting after. Ha. She was so ridiculous. Giggling at herself, she started swiping. Left to pass. Right to like. If a guy she “liked” also liked her photo, they were a match and could start chatting. And if all went well? A date.
Left. Left. Left…She made it through at least twenty guys without anyone catching her eye. Was she just picky or were the pickings slim these days?
Next up was a tattooed man posing on a motorcycle. Todd Pierce, age thirty-five, from Silver Springs. He wasn’t all that attractive, and the ponytail wasn’t doing anything for her, but just for fun, she swiped right. Still giggling, she took a screenshot and texted it to Mandy.
Then she got back to business. By nine thirty, she’d swiped right on five guys. She wasn’t too hopeful about any of them, but she made a pact with herself that shewouldgo on a date in the next week. Her phone pinged with an incoming text message. Hoping it was Mandy, she closed Tinder.
What time are you coming out tomorrow?It was from Ryan.
She scowled, annoyed that her heart beat faster just at the sight of his name. Ryan was one of the most organized people she knew. Surely he’d written down their appointment.Ten, she wrote back.
That’s what I thought. Just making sure.
Sure you’re not checking up on me?She meant it as a joke, but the silence that followed her words hung heavy in the air. She squirmed, picturing Ryan in his bed, wearing nothing but boxer briefs…No, strike that, wearing nothing at all…
Just going over tomorrow’s schedule, he answered finally.
Ugh. Why did he have to be so annoyingly platonic where she was concerned?Okay, well, if that’s it, I need to get back to some very important business.She pulled up the screenshot she’d sent Mandy, the one showing Todd Pierce the biker with the Tinder logo clearly visible, attached it to her message, and hit Send.
What the hell?His reply was instantaneous this time.
Gotta go. In search of a hot date. See you tomorrow at 10.
Her phone rang. Ryan. A funny quiver took hold in her stomach. “Did you call to offer dating advice?” she answered.
“What’s this about?” His voice sounded low and scratchy and so friggin’ sexy.
Annoyed with her traitorous body for practically melting at the sound, she let out an exasperated sigh. “I need a man, Ryan. It’s been alongtime. Know anyone?”
“Em—”
“What? We’re just friends, right? Don’t friends help friends find dates?”
He exhaled into the phone. “You’re going to need to ask one of your girlfriends for help with this one.”
“Then why did you call?” she asked, frustrated because Ryan was the only man she wanted, and the one man she couldn’t have.
“I don’t know.” He sounded as frustrated as she felt.
“I’m hanging up now,” she whispered.
“That’s probably best.”
And with a click, she ended the call.
