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Wait a second.

I take screenshots of Bobby Q’s profile pictures, text them to my own phone—convenient, now Thea has my number—and then run them through a reverse image search.

The first few images are of generic models with similar builds and hair. But as I scroll deeper, I see a face that matches. Another one. Several.

I eventually end up on a modeling agency website, confirm the name of the man in the pictures.

I give Thea back her phone. “Check this out.”

She shrugs. “It’s Bobby. I guess he’s a model. No wonder he decided to turn me down. He could get all kinds of beautiful women.”

I shake my head. “Look at the name of the model.”

She squints at the screen and then widens her eyes. “Billy Hamilton?”

I nod. “Turns out the guy you were supposed to meet? He doesn’t exist.”

27

THEA

I drop my mouth into an O.

No.

I couldn’t be so stupid in this day and age to get catfished.

It’s not the first time it’s happened, but usually I’ve been able to tell through the messages I receive that a guy isn’t real.

But… Damn it all. Twistr doesn’t have a messaging feature. The only thing we were able to communicate to each other was a time we were both available. The app took it from there. I didn’t even know where I was going until the Mercury Cyclone dropped me off.

Usually I’ve had the foresight to check a guy’s pictures out. Do exactly what Aus did—take screenshots and then put them in a reverse image search.

But with most dating apps, you wait a few days between the match and the date. This was almost instantaneous. I wanted to find someone to go out with tonight, and the app delivered.

Except it didn’t.

My guard was down. I’ve been on so many lousy dates with guys who actually exist that I was willing to throw caution to the wind with Bobby.

I was the only person at O2 news who isn’t married, engaged, or dating. Micaela Fields and her perfect cookie-cutter life got to me. I wanted to go out. I’m not getting any younger.

And to tell the truth? I wanted to get laid.

I suppress a chuckle. I at least got that.

But not with Bobby. With a man ten times more attractive than the guy whose photos he stole.

That was just dumb luck, though. I could have easily ended up in a far worse situation.

“I can’t believe I let myself be tricked so easily.” I bury my face in my hands.

Aus wraps his strong arm around my shoulders. “Baby, you couldn’t have known.”

“You figured out the guy was a fake in fifteen seconds.” I cross my arms. “What if he’d turned out to be a rapist? A human trafficker? Something worse than just some dick who stood me up?”

“You’d have no reason to check him out beforehand. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Only after he stood a prize like you up—fucking insane, by the way—were my hackles raised.” He kisses the top of my head.

I smile. His lips are a salve for my fractured ego. “I guess you’re right. To be honest, I was desperate for a good date. I’ve been on so many terrible ones the last few months, and when I matched with this guy who came straight out of a modeling agency—and now we know that he literally did—I went for it without even thinking. Plus, to tell the truth…” My cheeks warm.