Page 15 of Finding Their Place

That married couple who’d snagged my attention briefly got tossed back into the bin without a poke.

Friday night, I sat alone on my couch and scrolled the app while sipping a beer rather than hanging out with some friends at the bar. I’d attempted hookups their way and had enough.

I’d finished up my paperwork for the week, aggravation over the tedious work making me want to rip my hair out.

Not that searching an app for my forever girl or guy proved any easier.

A new match popped up ten minutes into my disheartening hunt.

SWF wanting to find her place.

That bio line caught my eye—resonated big time because it’s exactly what I’d written for mine with the F swapped out for the opposite sex.

I clicked to check out her profile and to bring the tiny avatar pic of her into better focus.

Her devilish smirk caught my attention first, no bright lipstick or gloss, just natural lips curled upward with a dimple in one cheek. Dark eyes with a mere hint of makeup, long lashes, and hair a funky maroon color drew out the freckles over the bridge of her nose.

Cute as fuck.

Gorgeous tits that would fit in my hands without spilling over stretched her white crop top, but it was the boyish figure from her chest down and in jean shorts that really did it for me. No wide hips or a waist to speak of…more straight and sexy as all hell to my eye.

“Fuck.” I sat up and quickly scanned through her bio.

Haley was tired of hookups, wanting to find her person—or persons, preferably two men. Interaction between the males was more than welcome. Pink-collar working woman who enjoyed the beach and waves but could do without the sun. Honest as fuck too, in stating she could be a bit needy affection-wise if someone managed to get her walls down. A big chore, she’d written, but she promised would be worth the price for someone truly interested in a real connection.

I hit the poke button without a second thought, excitement bubbling inside me. Knowing I would have to wait for a response rather than immediate gratification—or letdown—like hitting on women in bars, I set aside my cell and grabbed another beer from the fridge.

Haley had poked me back by the time I sat again.

My pulse jacked up, but I made myself twist off my beer cap and take a long pull before opening the messaging system that unlocked between the two of us because of the returned poke.

“Okay.” I put down my drink, rubbed my hands together, and went for it. A damn grin stretched my mouth wide.

Me: Hey, Haley. Thanks for returning the poke.

Haley: My pleasure—I hope, anyway.

I chuckled, wondering if she flirted or was being dead honest about connecting instead. I decided to let the sexual shit sit on the back burner since I hadn’t gone on the app for hooking up.

Me: As you must have seen, I’m hoping to find my person or persons, same as you.

Haley: Your write up didn’t state if you wanted MMF or MFF?

Me: I’m bi and don’t prefer one over the other, but if we hit it off, I’d gladly be open to bringing another guy in if that’s your preference.

Haley: Yes, please, but I’ve never done this before, so I’m clueless where to go from here.

“Same, woman, same.” Sure, I’d had lots of dating apps take up my time over the years but nothing for serious adventures.

Me: How about we leave the stress of meeting up together for a couple weeks and just chat a bit to see how things go?

Haley: That sounds so damn refreshing, you have no idea.

I settled back in the couch, swigged my beer, but another message came through before I could respond.

Haley: All the guys I’ve gone out with lately have had one thing in mind…getting between my thighs asap. Don’t get me wrong—I like sex. Too much, but wine and dine me first, for fuck’s sake.

I almost typed back that there was no such thing as too much sex but didn’t want to give off the impression I was like the last couple of jerks she’d gone out with who’d only been after pussy.

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