Page 2 of Hot Shot

Brian and I live in separate cities. Normally, that would be a non-starter for me, but Dallas and Austin aren’t that far apart. And I travel to Dallas for work sometimes. So when he first pinged me, I decided to give him a shot. After two months of chatting, I asked if he wanted to meet in person. I have an overnight layover for my work travel in DFW. Since my flight to Amsterdam leaves at five in the morning, flying into DFW and booking a room at a nearby hotel seemed like a no brainer. Asking Brian to meet for drinks at the airport bar seemed equally reasonable.

But he hasn’t shown up or messaged me and now I’m worried that he did show up, took one look at me, and walked away. And no amount of jokes at his expense from my sister, Chelsea, via text and then phone call are helping much.

Sure, Chelsea is a hoot, and I couldn’t love her more for verbally abusing a man she’s never met in my defense, but still … it would have been nice if Brian had been amazing. Been the one … or at least, you know, present.

But it’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting into.

Internet dating is not for the faint of heart. Even though it’s been around for more than two decades and is completely normalized now, there are still risks. Weirdos, catfishers, and the socially awkward that were originally drawn to online dating. I’m not looking to join a Dungeons & Dragons campaign, nor am I looking for a random hook-up.

It would be nice to be seen.

I’m still debating whether or not to cut and run or give Brian a little longer when movement from the doorway catches my attention. There’s a big guy standing near the entrance. He’s tall and broad and looks like a cross between a professional football player and an underwear model. Dark blond hair that’s too long on top and curls in effortless waves, light eyes of an indeterminant color and a jaw you could grate cheese on. Really kind of shave that high quality parmesan where you get the thin little rectangles. I’m lost in my cheese thoughts when a throat clears. I look up into the cheese grater’s face. Ohmygod, enough with the cheese!

“I think you’ve been looking for me,” he says. His voice is deep and husky, yet playful at the same time.

I look up at him and gasp. His face… good heavens. It’s like a young Brad Pitt and Chris Hemsworth had a love child and he’s standing right in front of me. A modern-day Thor.

Wait, he said words to me. Something about me looking for him. I laugh. “I don’t think you are who I am looking for.”

Which is, admittedly, disappointing because surely this man—who I’m beginning to think is more of a man-boy because he’s got to be at least ten years younger than me—is definitely not meeting women on dating apps.

He grins and says, “Well, I do know that you’re who I’ve been looking for.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help but chuckle. “Smooth.”

“Mind if I sit with you for a few?” he asks.

I motion to the chair across from me.

“You’re adorable and a little ridiculous. But I needed that laugh, so thank you.”

He winces and groans. His hand goes to his heart like he’s in pain. “Adorable is the kiss of death when you're trying to impress a lady.”

“Are you trying to impress me?

“The prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. Hell yeah, I’m trying to impress you. I’m Max, by the way.”

Is this guy for real? He thinks I’m the prettiest? Surely not. I mean I’m not ugly, but again, I’m older than this young buck who is definitely hot enough that he could have his pick of women anywhere on the planet. I lean over and glance behind him looking for a few more fraternity boys that might have put him up to this. “Am I being punked? Is that what this is?”

“Punked? For what?”

I just shrug and decide to let this play out. At the very least, whatever he’s trying to do will be entertaining.

“Nice to meet you, Max, I’m Charlotte.” I reach my hand across the table to him, and his enormous hand swallows up mine. It’s warm and his grip is firm.

“It is very nice to meet you, Charlotte. And that’s a pretty name.”

“Thank you. My uh, parents, gave it to me.”

He laughs and I swear my nipples tighten in response. Huh… that’s never happened before. Maybe there’s a chill in the air and I was too distracted to notice.

He nods to the book next to my right hand. “You’ve got the whole You’ve Got Mail thing going on with your book and flower.” He smirks. “So I figured you’re probably waiting for someone.”

“That obvious?” I blow out a breath. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s a no-show, which is just as well because he lives here in Dallas and I don’t.”

“Well, he’s an idiot to stand you up.” His eyes fall back to my book, and then he grins broadly. “Nice flower,” he winks.

I pull the brightly colored flower out of the copy of Pride and Prejudice. “It’s a pen,” I wave it in front of him. “I couldn’t find any live roses. And though it might make me childish, I’ve always loved quirky pens and kitschy crap.” Then I frown. “Wait, you know You’ve Got Mail? The movie with Meg Ryan?”