Short but (mostly) sweet.
DO NOT SWIPE IF YOU’RE ONLY HERE TO BANG.
F Boys keep swiping.
Molly would be proud I added that last line; her take-no-shit attitude has finally rubbed off on me. Duke’s, too. Why should I be the only one always worrying about what everyone thinks of me? What good has that done me?
I’m single, living in a house my friend owns, that she’s moved out of because she took a chance on a man she never thought would be her type.
“Holy crap,” I whisper to no one.
It’s him, Duke.
Except he’s not using his name, which makes me laugh because he’s so recognizable.
The man is on a dating app, and he’s sleeping in the room next door.
What the bloody hell!
He’s not supposed to be seen, let alone on a damn dating app as if he were going to go out gallivanting.
Two weeks.
That’s all the time he has to behave.
I study his profile.
D, 24 -.03 miles away
Profession: Hammock Tester
Bio: Big dude who likes eating food (mostly BBQ) and chillin’. In town for a few days for work, just looking for friends.
Not looking for an LTR, so it doesn’t matter if you like dogs or cats or what your feet look like.
Eh?
It doesn’t matter what your feet look like?
Who the hell says that?
The whole bio is weird and has me laughing again. His photos are slightly blurry and super shitty, probably so no one recognizes him.
They’re old.
Definitely old.
No self-respecting woman would swipe on such a horrible bio.
I scrutinize his photos a little longer before moving on, entering my location and preferred distance, and begin the search, excited to see I get SEVEN FREE DAYS to see all the men who swipe on me before I swipe on them.
“Seriously?” I mutter. “I’ve been on this app a grand total of twenty minutes and already have fifty-eight people who liked me?”
Damn!
I scroll and scroll and scroll some more. Swipe on one guy who looks cute—glasses and a goofy grin—and scroll on.
Ben, no.