Page 4 of Caged Heat

“You’ve used it?” I asked Vicky, lifting my brow in suspicion. She was a few years older than me, so I’d trust her judgment that it wasn’t some prank Steph was orchestrating.

“There’s a lot of duds, but there’s some good guys on there, too. If anything, it’s great practice to introduce you to what’s out there. I struggled at first too, but it’s not as bad as it seems,” she said, making me feel a little better.

“You can get everything on an app now. Why not a man?” Steph asked. “Besides, without the app, how will you know if they’re a DTF or DTR type of man?”

“Say what now?” I blinked, really considering heatstroke. “I swear you’re speaking Greek.”

Vicky laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, Ele, you crack me up.” She slapped the counter as I stared at her, dumbfounded. Steph waved her off, walking around the end of the bar, and took my phone, scanning through a few profiles.

“Ooh, look! You got a match! He’s cute, too. Message him back!” She shoved the phone under my face.

“Huh. What?” I asked, blinking. Anxiety raced through my body, my hands shaking as I stared at the device like it was alive.

“Jackson, 28, works in sales, likes dogs, adventure, and being active. He’s looking for someone fun to share it with,” she read out loud when I’d become frozen. “Aw, he sounds nice. He looks trustworthy, too. Though, ‘sales’ could mean anything from selling drugs, houses, or action figures out of his mom’s basement, but here goes nothing. There, all set.”

“Wait, what did you just do?” I screeched, my body rearing up to grab the phone from her as panic encapsulated me. Sweat broke out along my brow, and I could hear my heart hammering in my ears.

“I liked him back. You’re welcome,” she huffed, returning to the other side and filling a drink.

“You did what?” I whispered-shouted. Fear stole my words as it raced through me, my heart racing so fast I worried I’d faint in front of everyone. Oh, wouldn’t that be fun? Passing out at Bottle Grounds, the place I’d worked at for years… on my birthday, nonetheless.

“Calm down. I just liked his picture. I didn’t promise you’d marry him for a goat and cheese wheel. Isn’t that how they did it in your day?” she teased.

“Bitch,” I said, rolling my eyes at her.

“You know it.” She blew me a kiss, moving back over to fill beers. It was still early on Saturday, but the crowd at Bottle Grounds was already growing. While Steph and Vicky tended to customers, I glanced down at the guy I’d apparently ‘liked’ to see what I’d gotten myself into.

Jackson.

It was a nice name. He was clean-cut, with light brown hair that laid flat against his head, reminding me of spun silk with how soft it looked. His eyes were warm, the color of brown sugar, melting my heart and heating me from the inside out. His smile was confident but not cocky, making me want to trust him even if every thought said not to. Just from the picture alone, I knew this guy was dangerous, already stirring something inside of me.

My eyes snagged on the number next to his name, 28. Jeez, he was only four years older than Mack. Biting my lip, I stared at his profile for another minute before turning my phone over. Nothing good would come from me entertaining thoughts of that man. He was way too young for me.

My phone vibrated on the countertop, making a loud noise against the wood surface that startled me. I jerked, gasping as I stared down at the phone like it might bite me. It did it again, and I picked it up, conscious of the people near me eyeing me like the weirdo I was being.

I tentatively turned the phone over, letting out a breath when nothing happened. Two notifications stared up at me from the home screen.

HEAT: New message from your match, Jackson!

HEAT: New message from your match, Jackson!

I scowled at the happy tone, hating how the app assumed I’d be thrilled to receive a message. Swiping it away, I froze when it opened the app instead of clearing the screen. Great. Now he’d know I’d seen his messages. Squeezing my eyes shut, I debated with myself.

Just read them and then say you accidentally messaged him. Then delete the app and pretend this notion to date never happened. Solid plan.

Peeking one eye open, I stared at the two messages, confused at what they said.

Jackson: Well, hello there, Eleanor! Can I call you Ella? I’m going to call you Ella. You feel like an Ella. Plus, I like how it sounds in my mouth. El-la. Do you know what I mean? Some words have a nice mouth feel. My favorite is avocado. Say it. Avo-ca-do. See how that felt? Nice, right?

Jackson: Quick, tell me the one thing you’d do if you could right this second. No limits.

After saying avocado over and over, I realized I was grinning. Crap. He was cuter than I anticipated. Stick to the plan. No matter how cute he seems or that you love the fact he called you Ella.

Eleanor: Thank you for the message, but I liked your picture by accident. I hope you find what you’re looking for.

I hit send, and a sinking feeling overwhelmed me. Why did I feel so sad about it? I didn’t know him. He was nobody to me.

Jackson: Fine. I’ll go first. If I could do one thing right this second, I’d go to the county fair. Rides, food trucks, and all the lemon shake ups one can drink. Add in the lightning bugs and the cool breeze, and it sounds like heaven right now.

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