Page 47 of Dashing for Love

“Don’t you dare,” I warn her.

She points at the screen. “He answered!”

I feel like I should apologize, because if you know me, then it seems I should know you, right?

“Tell him,” Agatha says.

“No way,” I answer. “Not over the app.”

You know me, but there’s a good reason you didn’t recognize me.

So…what now?

Agatha shakes my arm. “You have to meet him.”

“I know. But this is…hard.”

She scoffs. “Of course it’s hard. Why do young people think love is going to be a breeze?” She points to my phone. “You set up a time to meet him right now, young lady, or so help me, I’ll call JJ right now with the scoop of his life.”

My eyes widen. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Hers narrow. “Try me, missy.”

I gasp. “Rude.”

“Start typing.”

I study her. “You know, you both inspire and terrify me.” But I do as she instructs.

Let’s meet. Hall’s Balls. Tonight at eight. I’ll be the girl at the bar in yellow.

There’s a beat where he doesn’t type at all.

I want to puke. “Oh, God. Was the yellow a giveaway?”

Agatha rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. He’s deciding what he’ll wear.” She points at the phone. “See? He’s typing.”

I’ll be the guy in the cowboy boots.

I’m not proud of the noise that comes out of me. Or the fantasies I immediately start having. Like how he sees it’s me and twirls me around, a big smile on his face, before laying another one of those hot-as-sin kisses on me. Like how he’s not at all worried about telling my sister and parents. Like he doesn’t care about the gossip that will inevitably spread about us.

Agatha looks at me, as satisfied as a cat in sunshine. “Told you.”

Chapter 18

Matty

ISHOULDN’T BE as nervous as I am. She knows me. Sheknowsme.

She knew who I was when we…did what we did…and I have never been self-conscious about sex or myself, but suddenly I am.

It’s not embarrassing, exactly, but it’s unnerving. Like she had an unfair advantage.

The thing is…I think I know who it is. Whosheis. Despite all logic. Despite a long-buried, un-inspected wish.

Regardless of whether it’s her or not, I’m still getting there an hour ahead. She had me beat the last time we met, and now, it’s my turn.

I wear my cowboy boots, as promised, along with my favorite jeans and a dark teal T-shirt that Willa always says makes my eyes ‘pop,’ whatever that means. I feed Hedgie and the dogs, then crate Killer with his favorite stuffed lamb before heading to the bar.

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