Page 33 of The Swiping Game
“You wanted somewhere private. This is the one room Neil has never walked into as it would require him to be able to work a copy machine. You’re down to nine minutes. Go.”
I take a deep breath. I’m pretty sure she’s really timing me. And this also might be my only chance to speak. “My sister is actually the developer of the app. I was one of the original profiles.”
“Are you kidding me? No way that’s true.”
“Google Hazel Montgomery. She’s my half-sister. But you’re cutting into my time. I hadn’t been on the app in years and the profile was never deleted. James is my legal first name and that picture was from a trip we took years ago. Dean is my middle name. And last week, I was talking to her and I don’t know, I downloaded the app because I was bored and maybe a little lonely. Then I saw you and shit . . . You looked so happy. You looked beautiful and carefree and fun and I had never seen that side of you, so I swiped left. You took my breath away in those photos Tara. Never in a million years did I think we’d match. But when we did and we started talking. Then I realized that not only are you fucking gorgeous on the outside, but somehow you are more beautiful on the inside. I never meant for this to go this far without you knowing who I was.”
“Ha!” she lets out, though there’s absolutely no humor to it. “So how far was it going to go? Maybe I’d send you some dirty pics now that we’ve gotten phone sex out of the way? Or were you going to ask me out and then it’d be like a big reveal that I’d been punked?”
“No,” I say, running my hands through my hair. “When I saw you on the app, yes, I swiped left because I was curious. When we matched and you messaged me, I . . .”
This is the part where even I’m not sure why I didn’t tell her who I was immediately.
“You what? Thought it would be fun to fuck with me? That it was some sort of game? Using it as a way to lure me in just to make another joke about me somehow?”
“No, Tara. God no. That never even crossed my mind.”
“Then what, James? I mean Dean. Holy fuck, your name is James Dean.”
“Can we talk about my mother’s bad naming choices later?”
“No, we can’t. Because there isn’t going to be a later.” She quits pacing around the small room and looks at me. Her face, though still beautiful, looks tired and sad. And I hate myself a little more for making it that way. “You hurt me, Dean. I trusted you. You were a virtual stranger on the internet, but I started to feel something. There are things I’ve told you that I’ve never told anyone before. I was . . . I was falling for you. And now I find out you aren’t who you say you are?”
I grab her shoulders, needing her to look at me right now. “I am too, Tara. What we shared? That wasn’t fake. What we’re feeling? That’s as real as it gets. Yes, I lied about my name, and the photo was old as hell. But everything else? That was me. All the things we shared? None of that was a lie.”
“How do I even know that? How do I know this isn’t part of the lie to cover your ass and make you not look like a total asshole?”
“This,” I say, bringing her closer to me. “Tell me how this is fake.”
I crash her lips to mine and kiss her with everything I have. I don’t know if it’s the right move, but it’s all I can think to do. She won’t believe my words, which I get. I know how this has to sound to someone who is hurt and confused.
How can anyone deny that this kiss isn’t real? Her arms are now wrapped around my neck, gripping me like a vise. But I don’t care. Let her hang on; I have her. I’ll always have her. And if this is how I need to show her that I’m as real as it comes, then I’ll kiss her until I can’t breathe.
She tries to bring me in closer, which causes me just to slightly lose balance. I stumble back a little and am stopped by the feeling of the small table I saw when we walked in. I use it for balance as I wrap my hands around her waist, letting my hands roam up and down her back as I continue kissing the life out of her.
“This?” I say, letting my lips travel down her cheekbone to her neck. “This is real. Tell me it’s fake, Tara.”
She doesn’t say anything. Only little moans come from her as I continue to let my lips explore. I’m suddenly taken back to last night, remembering her moans as I made her come with just my words. The memories only spur me on as my hands make their way up the sides of her, caressing her tits over her cotton dress.
Just as I’m about to dive back into her sweet mouth, the sound of the copy machine comes to life, breaking our spell. It’s the only sound in the room other than our heavy breathing as we look at each other.
“Tara . . .”
“No,” she says, wiggling out of my grip. “That was wrong. We shouldn’t have done that.”
I release her but desperately want to bring her back into my arms. “Don’t lie. You felt something. That was not a mistake.”
She turns to me, the sadness back in her eyes. “I don’t know what I think, James. I mean Dean. See? I just don’t know. I’m so confused.” She turns and runs out of the copy room and I’m immediately two steps behind her.
“Tara, wait!”
She abruptly stops at the end of the hallway, nearly causing me to run into her. “I can’t Dean, not now. I just can’t.”
I turn her back to look at me, using my thumb to tip up her chin.
“What can I do to make you believe that I’m telling you the truth?”
She tries to look down, but I won’t let her. Ineedto know how to fix this. I need to know how to not lose the first woman I’ve met in years who has made me feel anything.
“Nothing.”
And with that, she breaks from my hold and walks away, leaving me standing in the middle of the hallway wondering what just happened.
