“Okay, but how is he in the sack?” my mom asks out of the blue.
“Mom!” I roll my eyes at her bluntness.
“What? Sex is an important part of any relationship,” she explains.
“Your mom is right,” my father agrees. “Tim and Linda stopped having sex, and see what happened to them.”
I’m somewhat curious to know what happened to Tim and Linda, but not enough to actually ask. I’d much rather keep talking about Travis.
“I’m not discussing mine or someone else’s sex life with you,” I say sternly, hoping they get the hint.
My parents look at me disapprovingly but don’t push the subject further.
Thank fuck.
“So needless to say, I’m probably staying in Lake Lure for a while.”
“But your travel channel? How are you going to keep that up? Doesn’t that pay your bills?” My father raises a valid point.
“Well, I do have some money saved up, but also I don’t really have to worry about money if things work out with Travis.”
“Why is that?” my mom asks curiously.
“Travis is kind of a billionaire,” I say, watching my parents’ faces fall immediately.
This is why I didn’t want to tell them.
“He is very smart. Founded a tech company when he was younger and sold it for millions.”
“That’s a lot of money for only one person,” my dad says, shaking his head, unimpressed.
I don’t want to entertain this conversation. I won’t listen to them speak badly about Travis—my future husband. If they love me, they’ll support him too. So I make up some excuse about having plans I need to rush to and hang up the phone, falling back on the couch with a huff.
I close my eyes, and I think about Travis, which immediately brings a smile to my lips. My parents may not know him, and doubt his sincerity because of their preconceived notions of what a man like him should be. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling the buzz in my heart.
I grab my phone and walk toward the balcony, situating myself in a perfect ray of sunshine and snapping a few pictures. When I’m done, I post it to my story with the captionNever thought love could feel this good.I pick a trending song to put in the story with the picture and post it.
After only a minute of being on the internet for everyone to see, DarkHours99 replies to my story.I thought I was your one and only?
I ignore the comment and put my phone down, shaking it off as him just being flirty, as he always is. Then I get a notification on Instagram alerting me to our direct-message channel.What do you mean you’re in love? Do I need to come out there so you and I can have a talk?
“Outthere?” I say, sitting upright and furrowing my brows as I stare at our chat exchange. “He can’t know where I am. Right?”
I look at my profile to see if there is any indication of where I currently am. I post travel content, so my followers know where I’ve been, but I stagger the content about the Airbnbs themselves so they never know where I am currently posting from. It’s one of the many internet safety protocols nearly everyone in this industry has in place. Unfortunately, the picture I posted of myself at the ice cream shop very clearly has the name of the shop in the background.
Would someone actually try to find me? I’ve always thought the relationship DarkHours99 has with me is a little strange, but I never thought he would be a problem like this. Was I wrong all along?
I jump to my feet and slip on some flip-flops before I can think about it anymore. Luckily for me, I just so happen to be in a relationship with a tech genius who might be able to help me out.
I make my way over to his house, where I knock on his door and wait a few moments before I hear his feet pattering across the hardwood floors of his cabin.
“I thought we had an agreement?” Travis says, standing in the doorway, a hand firmly on the knob as he’s prepared to close it in my face.
“Do you have a way to trace someone’s messages or where they’re coming from?” I ignore his first comment. We can play this cat-and-mouse game later. The worry must be clear on my face, because his entire demeanor changes.
“What’s going on?” He opens the door wider so he can stand in front of me, but I slip through and invite myself inside. I hear a slight huff as the door closes, and he walks to the kitchen with me. The savory smell of what I’m guessing is lasagna fills my nose and makes my mouth water.
My stomach growls as I explain the whole situation, letting him know DarkHours99 has been a follower for a long time, and I never thought anything bad of it until now. He listens intently, as if he’s hanging on every word I say. When I tell him about the most recent message I received, I see a flicker of anger in his eyes.
