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“Mental issues?”
“Commitment issues. Relationship anxiety.”
Sarah shoved her shoulder. “Have you been Google diagnosing again?”
Emma gave a guilty shrug.
“You know that stuff is dangerous!” Sarah cried, putting her glass down on the bar. “By the time you were on the outs with Devin, you were convinced he had a borderline personality.” Sarah rolled her eyes.
“He does!” Emma exclaimed.
Sarah heaved a frustrated sigh. “You need to close WebMD, and start facing facts. Mr. X is gone, but that’s okay. He wasn’t the staying type.”
Emma remembered how quickly he’d left her the last two times they’d been together. He’d been in such a rush to leave her he’d barely said goodbye. Staying was absolutely not his strong suit.
“And he’s gone radio silent for a week. It’s done, sweetie. I know you want there to be something there, but there’s just not.” Sarah gave Emma’s shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “Doesn’t mean you can’t find someone else.”
Emma stared morosely at her drink. She didn’t want someone else. She wanted Xavier. “What if he got into a car accident...? What if he really does want to contact me, but...”
Sarah let out a long, frustrated sigh. “Honey, that isn’t what happened. This is Nost. No strings, remember? That’s what you signed on for!”
“I know, but...”
“You just need to shift gears a little. Quit focusing on one man. What you need is a distraction. Give me your phone,” Sarah demanded, holding her palm up.
“Why?”
“Just...gimme.” Sarah opened and closed her hand impatiently. Reluctantly, Emma set her phone in her friend’s hand. In seconds, Sarah had pulled up Nost and all active members within a half-mile radius.
“No, no, no!” Emma cried, reaching out and trying to grab her phone back, but Sarah held it just out of reach.
“This is for your own good,” Sarah said, sending out a few winks to nearby suitors. She glanced up around the bar, looking hopeful.
“I don’t want to meet anyone else!”
“You might not want to, but you need to.” Sarah typed a message to one member Emma couldn’t even see.
“Who are you messaging? What...”
“Just trust me,” Sarah exclaimed as she grinned into the phone.
“Let me see.” Emma reached out and tugged on Sarah’s arm.
“I’m just saying hi to a few nearby possibilities.” She peered at the screen. “Oh, my, there are like dozens!”
Given that they were in a sports bar surrounded by guys, that didn’t surprise Emma in the least. “Show me.”
Eventually, Sarah pulled up a few profiles. “See? He’s not so bad.”
Emma looked at the blond guy who was slim but not fit, kind of cute but no Xavier. She saw his hazel eyes in her mind, his jet-black hair, the look on his face when he pulled her in for a kiss... Then, she felt herself dissolve a little. How could he walk away from that? From them?
Sarah showed her another. “Hey, you got a new message from Good Lookin’ Good Times. He looks kind of familiar. Did we message him?”
“What?” Emma glanced down at the screen, her Xavier revelry broken. That’s when she saw the fake profile picture that Happy Fun Time had used, the man who’d been so nasty to her at the Ritz-Carlton bar.
“That’s Happy Fun Time!” Emma exclaimed, swiping the photo so it got bigger. “I mean, that’s not him, him, but it’s the fake photo he used. Trust me, he looks nothing like that GQ model.” She studied the map on the phone. “It says he’s right near us, too.”
Emma glanced around hurriedly. Then, seconds later, she saw a telltale Cardinals cap in the back corner of the bar, by the pool tables.
“Oh, God! There he is! Cardinals hat?” Emma told Sarah, trying to covertly side nod with her head.
“The old guy? Seriously overweight?” Sarah wrinkled her nose. “That is false advertising.”
“I know.” Emma stirred her drink. “Don’t stare,” she admonished, suddenly fearful the man would see them. He must know they were nearby. He’d messaged her, but maybe there was a chance he hadn’t seen them yet. The bar was crowded, and Emma cringed, using the men behind her as a shield.
“And who in their right mind wears a St. Louis hat to a Cubs game?”
“He’s a jerk, so who knows?” Emma shrugged, remembering the vile way he’d clutched at her elbow, the coldness of his voice when he’d hissed bitch in her face.
“He’s the guy that grabbed you, right?” Sarah’s frown deepened. “Let’s report him,” she suggested, quickly clicking on the “report user” button, and she tapped in their complaint. She made sure to write false advertising in all caps, as well as belligerent and rude and assault.
