Page 25

HotScore: He’s gone to the bathroom.

RoughingTheModel: So you’re hanging out with a friend and the moment he slips away, you’re talking to me.

HotScore: Something like that.

RoughingTheModel: Am I right to assume it’s not going well?

A heavy sigh falls from my lips.

Not so long ago, I was buzzing about spending time with Darcy. Maybe if he were a little more excited to be spending time with me tonight, I’d be more into it and not messaging another guy the second he leaves the table.

HotScore: It could be better.

Movement on the other side of the room catches my eye, and when I look up, I find Darcy making his way back over to me, also with his cell in his hand.

“Hey, listen. I’m really sorry, but⁠—”

“It’s okay,” I assure him as I push to my feet, ready to get the hell out of here.

“No, it’s not. I hate doing this to you again. I…I like you. I do. It’s just…my life right now is a little chaotic and…well, I’m just sorry.”

“Honestly, it’s okay. Maybe when things have calmed down for you, we can try again.”

He smiles at me, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “And if you need someone to talk to in the meantime, you know where I am.”

He opens his mouth to say something but quickly changes his mind. “Thank you, Garrett. You’re a good friend.”

Am I? I’m not sure, considering I was just messaging someone else while on a date with him, but I don’t tell him that. Instead, I give him a smile and wave him off as he darts through the restaurant.

With a sigh, I lower my ass back to my seat and pull my cell free again.

HotScore: Well, I’ve been bailed on. Did you have any plans for the night?

A zap of electricity shoots through my veins at the thought of seeing this guy in person.

RoughingTheModel: Sorry, can’t do tonight. I’ve got an early start.

Damn it.

I’m aware that this guy could be an epic creep and not interested in anything I have to offer. But I figure if he is a mass murderer, he wouldn’t have avoided a chance to meet me. He must be at least semi-legit.

HotScore: No worries.

Now to figure out what to do. I could message some old college friends, see if they’re busy. But it’s mid-week, and they’ve all got jobs and responsibilities. Many are already coupled up and having kids.

It makes me feel a little behind when I think about them. But then I remind myself that I’m not ready for all that. If and when I do meet “the one,” I want to be in a better phase of my life.

I want a good, stable job, at least. My own apartment. There’s no fun in having friends over to your sister’s place and hanging out in the guest bedroom. I mean, I’ll do it. But I’d rather not.

In the end, I forego the idea of going out and call an Uber to a different location in town.

I’ve been promising Sienna I’ll visit, and now seems like a great time to do so.

As the car pulls to a stop outside the obviously closed-up old building, I can’t say I’m overly impressed, but I know it’s still early days. I’ve seen the photos of the progress so far, and in just a few weeks, the inside looks almost unrecognizable.

After thanking the driver, I climb out and make my way toward the back door, reveling in the warmer climate. If I were in New York right now, I’d be bundled up in a thick coat with a hat, scarf, and gloves. I’m a West Coast boy. I wasn’t made for the cold. I guess I should have realized that New York was never going to be the place for me, but I was lured by the promise of the city just like so many others are.

“Oh wow,” I breathe as I walk inside what’s going to be Bea and Sienna’s new salon.