Page 97 of Because of Dylan

“I guess it’s possible. I mean, you hear stories like that often enough. People meet online, talk, have video chats, and they even have phone and video sex.” She slides a sheet of parchment off the pan. Sixteen cookies on top.

“No, not like that either. What if you only ever talked or texted, but have never seen each other?”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I don’t know. At the risk of sounding shallow, I think that would be harder. Attraction is a big part of falling in love, right? Usually people are attracted to what they see first, then they take the next step and get to know each other.”

“True, but then you also have friendships that develop into more.”

“Yes, but I’d think there was an attraction on some level there too.” Her keen gaze fixes on me. “Why are you asking?”

I look away, focus on my forgotten tea. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. What’s love, really? How does one know they’re in love? And can you love someone you’ve never met, and never even seen? Someone you know absolutely nothing personal about, and yet you feel like they know you down to your soul?”

“Wow, you went way deep.”

I face River now. Her sharp eyes try to read me. I tamp down my need to close myself off. My first instinct is to lie, to deflect, to run. But I hear his voice in my head, telling me to trust her.

“I think I might be falling for a guy.” Dylan’s face flashes in my mind. Or two.

I hold my breath. Her reaction is not what I expected. A squeal leaves her lips. She runs around the island, lunges at me and hugs me. “Spill it. Hold nothing back.”

I drag a deep breath in. “Okay. But cookies first.”

We move to the couch in the living room, the plate of too-warm-to-eat cookies between us.

I pull my legs up and under my body. Grab a pillow and rest my elbows on it. “I’ve been talking to someone online. For a few weeks now.”

“A few weeks? And just now you’re telling me?” She pokes my knee with a fingertip.

“We’ve already established I suck as a BFF, so no need to remind me.”

She pokes me again. “Stop holding back and tell me already.”

“So … I met him online, and we talk a few times a week. And he’s so kind and funny.”

“Go on.”

“I love his laugh and his voice. His voice is so … I don’t know. Calming? He speaks low, like we’re sharing a secret.” Because we are sharing secrets.

“What else do you know about him?”

“Nothing.” I look down.

“Wait. You don’t know his name?”

“No.”

“His age?”

“No.”

“If he’s married or single?”

“No idea.” I trace the edge of the pillow.

“Where he lives?”

---