Page 24 of Catching Feelings

?CHAPTER SIX

ROWAN

After my disastrous date with Frank, I had good intentions to delete the Friends to Lovers app, but when a message appeared from a new profile, I couldn’t resist opening it.

The laundry list of nicknames Adam came up with made me chuckle, which had me responding immediately.

I’m glad I did. In the two weeks since, we’ve talked almost every day. When he told me the nickname he came up with for me, I nearly melted.

Wildflower.

So sweet. So simple. So perfect. And he doesn’t even know me.

I started calling him Charming, which he is.

If I hadn’t rushed into meeting Frank, I’d be more inclined to meet Adam, but the admin of Friends to Lovers recommends establishing a consistent line of correspondence for at least four weeks before meeting.

This time, I plan on following the suggestion. Honestly, I’m worried Adam won’t be as I imagine him to be, so I’m holding out as long as possible.

We’ve stayed away from questions that would reveal too much about our identities. We avoid the cliché topics of work and family and stick to our opinions on pop culture, food, and music.

The past few nights he’s been flirting and dropping innuendos, which I don’t mind. There aren’t any messages from him during the day, which is a good thing, or I’d have even more trouble concentrating at work.

It’s bad enough that the first thing I do when I leave the office is check the app. Some days he sends a message around four, but mostly we chat at night.

While it’s fun chatting with him live, knowing he was thinking about me during the day makes me feel...wanted. Desired.

I’m no sex goddess like Kendall, and I’ve never had a man fall for me as hard as Walker fell for Riley, but Adam has potential. There’s no way he’s this sweet and funny and charming in real life.

But a girl can dream.

I change in the locker room at my favorite Pilates studio and stretch my body to uncomfortable limits on the reformer for a grueling sixty-minute class. Since my refrigerator is lacking ingredients to assemble the simplest of meals, I stop at the store on the way home, and it’s almost seven-thirty by the time I’m sitting at my counter eating my homemade chicken stir fry.

For the past hour, my phone has lit up with messages from the app. Somehow I’ve maintained some semblance of self-control and manage to wait until I’ve eaten half my dinner before reading his messages.

Adam86: I can’t stop thinking about you.

Adam86: I imagine what your laugh sounds like. What your signature scent is. The color of your hair.

Adam86: Did you have a good day?

Adam86: Shit. I’m bordering on stalking now, aren’t I? You mentioned not being able to message during the day. I had a few hours in between work stuff and couldn’t stop thinking about you so...anyway. Hopefully we’ll talk soon. Sincerely, NOT your obsessed stalker fan, Adam86. Unless you find my verbal diarrhea charming, then, yes, all these messages are from me.

Adam86: Fuck. I can’t believe I typed the word diarrhea. I can’t even say it was an accident because I spelled it wrong and accepted the spell check correction. If you need to rescind the Charming nickname, I understand.

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