She rolls her eyes as she continues talking. “But that’s actually the nice thing about this app. It’s all anonymous.”
I look at her. “What’s the point of a dating app that’s anonymous?”
“So you can get to know each other first, with common interests and chatting rather than just judging people on pictures that may or may not be accurate.”
I can’t imagine that Elle would have any problem getting dates on a traditional dating app, but if she vouches for it, there must be something to it. “And you’ve used it?”
“Yeah. I’ve been having some of the most interesting conversations. I’m going on a date this weekend.”
I have to admit that that idea does sound appealing. I’ve always found emotional and mental connections to be stronger than the physical—Bryce being the exception. I wanted all of him. Body, mind, and soul. “But what happens when you show up on date and you’re not attracted to them?”
She shrugs. “Then it doesn’t work out?” Taking a step away from the door, she shrugs. “But even if it doesn’t work out, at least you still tried.” She disappears out the door back to where all the boxes are waiting for her, and I go back to my scanning and sorting.
But the idea hangs with me. I find myself enamored of it.
It really has been a long time since I’ve even tried to go on a date. I can’t remember the last time I went out to a bar with any intention of talking to anyone than my friends. I’m at the bookstore all day, every day, and by the time the day is done I usually just want to go home.
Sometimes I read a book—though you would think that I would be sick of them after spending all day at work, but work never stops. I have to read new books so I can stock the store and make recommendations. Plus, I find that books are usually more consistent companions than people.
Sometimes I watch TV, and snuggle with my cat. God, that sounds pathetic doesn’t it? Twenty-five years old, a successful business woman, and I go home at the end of the day to snuggle with my cat. Not that there’s anything wrong with snuggling with your cat. But Elle is right.
I really should try harder.
Or try at all, really.
Especially since my mind won’t leave me alone when it comes to Bryce. It’s never going to fucking happen. I need to accept that and move on.
If anything, I need to find somebody who can replace him in the fantasies I have. That’s not going to be an easy task, but I owe it to myself not to let this sexual frustration get the better of me.
Rolling my eyes, I get up from my chair. I can’t believe I’m actually going to do this. But I walk out into the store and find Elle, arms deep in boxes of books. “What did you say the name of that app was?”
She grins. “I didn’t, but it’s called Hearts First. You’re going to try it?”
I nearly gag at the name. It sounds like something I would rather die than investigate. But I’m going to do it anyway. “I haven’t decided,” I lie.
All she does is smirk at me because we both know that it’s not the truth. “Stop looking at me like that,” I say. “You look like the cat who swallowed the canary.”
Elle puts on a mask of innocence. “I look like nothing of the sort. I just want my friend to have some fun for once. And get fucking laid.”
I roll my eyes and go back to my office. I’m already imagining the possibilities, what this could mean. Desperation drives me to think about the fact that I could actually meet someone. It’s been so long that I can barely remember what actually being touched sexually feels like.
My last boyfriend was passable, but not very memorable. God, Elle is right. I need to get laid.
But for the next couple of hours I need to rein myself in. Hold my imagination in check until I can get home and actually look at this app, put Bryce out of my mind, and make an effort.
2
I can’t wait until I get home to check out the app.
In fact, I’m barely able to wait half an hour. The idea I of going on a date—and possibly having sex—takes hold of me so quickly that I’m driven to distraction.
I shouldn’t exactly be surprised, based on how today is going, so I just give in. Fuck it. There’s nothing that’s going to make this workday any better.
But maybe, just maybe, I can get some kind of satisfaction by starting to put some effort into my personal life. Or who am I kidding? Not my personal life. My sex life. I’m horny. I’ll admit it. I watch enough porn to know when I need some.