Page 37 of Win My Heart

Grabbing the next envelope, I read that it’s addressed to me. There isn’t a return address on it, but not everyone knows how to address an envelope apparently. I carefully rip it open and pull out a white piece of paper that’s folded in thirds.

I unfold it to see a typed note. It’s short, but I start reading it.

Bernie,

Once again, you amaze me. Your instinct in the game cannot be topped. I just love watching you own the game. Watching your stream the other night was the highlight of my week!

I’m looking forward to meeting up with you soon. I understand you’re busy, but I think once we have time to connect, things will really get exciting.

Let me know when and where, and I’ll be there. Don’t make me wait much longer, busy girl.

Your Friend,

Joe

A chill runs down my spine, and a rock forms in my stomach. I drop the letter onto the table and stare down at it. I don’t know a Joe, but the creep factor is in line with the Insta messages I’m getting from that Salt guy.

He talks like we’re friends and we’ve talked about meeting up in real life, but that’s not really my thing.

If this is the same person from Insta, then they are reaching out on my personal account and sending me mail. I check the envelope again and let out a breath, seeing that it came to the PO Box and not my home address. Thank goodness.

Hastily, I stuff the letter back into the envelope. Maybe I should talk to Dex about this. He’s gotten so many unwanted messages and letters from female fans, so maybe he can shed some insight.

But I don’t know. Maybe I’m putting too much thought into it. Maybe these are two different people. And maybe this is just an overeager fan. Either way, the letters and messages are not in the least bit threatening, so it’s probably not a big deal.

I stand from the table and take the letter over to my gaming rig in my room, open the top drawer, and drop the envelope inside.

I think I’m just going to sit on this a little longer and hope that my lack of response is enough to make this fan get the picture. Hopefully.

Fingers crossed.

* * *

After the whole creepy mail incident, I shower and inevitably start to fret about my maybe date with Wade. By the time three rolls around, I’m a hot mess. Rock climbing doesn’t lend itself well to looking nice for a maybe date. So I’ve got my nicest pair of workout leggings on. My black sports bra is barely visible under a dark purple tank that reads “Nerdy Girls Rock” and features a pair of nerdy glasses, which I thought was fitting since we’re going rock climbing.

Being a nerdy girl who collects all things nerdy, that includes all kinds of fun and punny tops. So finding a shirt to fit the occasion is a normal occurrence.

I read online that you can rent climbing shoes, so I grab a pair of tennis shoes out of my closet. When there’s a knock at the door, my heart rate skyrockets. Standing from the couch, I take a deep breath.

It’s just Wade.

We’re two old pals going to climb fake rocks.

That’s all it is. Chill out. It’s nothing more.

I close my eyes before heading to the door and unlocking it.

Wade stands on the other side wearing a pair of joggers and a Chicago Cub’s hoodie, his winter coat draped over his arm. I take in his face and see a slight five o’clock shadow but notice that his hair is wet. He must have showered. Showering before a date is a good sign.

The urge to cuddle with him on the couch hits me out of nowhere. It must be the hoodie.

“You look cuddly,” I blurt.

His carefree grin turns into a smirk. “So do you.” He nods toward me, and I snort.

“I do not.”

Still grinning, he shrugs. “Maybe you do.”

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