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BROOKE
The alert came through late, just as I was about to climb into bed. The little chime sounded different than the other noises my phone made. More cheerful. More insistent.
New Message from RadTriad
My stomach dropped. It was them, I was sure of it. The alert I’d hoped for. A response from the one crazy profile on the whole strange network that would make it all worthwhile.
Leaving my phone plugged into the charger, I slid into my computer chair. My machine was already on. It was always on. On and open to a fresh notepad window, so I could easily scribble any thought or stream of creative consciousness, no matter how big or small.
Is it really them?
It took another fifteen seconds to punch up the website and log in. Sure enough, the little envelope at the top right corner was lit up a golden yellow, indicating a new message. A message that I immediately clicked…
Hey gorgeous! You around?
Yes! I couldn’t believe my luck!
Navigating to a different screen, I punched up the sender’s profile before responding. RadTriad was not one, but three separate people. Three very hot, sexy, and amazing-looking guys…
Easy, Brooke.
It took me a moment to calm myself down. To remind myself of exactly why I was doing this in the first place.
It’s all for the purpose of research, remember?
Yeah, I remembered. The article. Always the article. But not just any article, this time.
No, this could easily be the biggest article of my entire life.
I glanced down again at RadTriad’s profile page. I saw strong, ripped arms. Broad, beautiful shoulders. It was hard dragging my eyes from the cluster of hot profile pics, but somehow I eventually managed. The tiny bell beside the name was illuminated now, indicating the user was actively online.
Still up. Was getting ready for bed though. Lucky you caught me.
Immediately after hitting SEND, I winced. I was trying to come off as fun, playful. But it might’ve just as easily come off as bitchy and evasive.
Bed, huh? ;)
Relief flooded through me. I wasn’t even trying to flirt, really. It was just the simple truth.
It’s not as exciting as you’d think, LOL. I wrote truthfully. Long day. Longer one tomorrow.
My eyes fluttered back over their profile pics. Three guys. Three ripped, muscular, beautiful guys…
Three guys looking to date a single, solitary woman.
It made no sense to me really, that guys this good-looking would be into something like this. Then again, I was only assuming they were good-looking. Every photograph had been taken from the chin down, no faces visible, for purposes of discretion.
Well tired or not, we really like your profile.
There it was again, that word “we.” The one little word that made this whole thing so strange, so foreign So incredibly—
And we absolutely LOVE your photos.
I would’ve been flattered, but the profile wasn’t really mine. I’d borrowed pretty much everything witty or funny from other profiles on the site; other women looking for polyamorous relationships. The pics were mine however. I’d taken three different shots, two of them casual, one of them a little flirty. A little sexy…
Hannah? You still there?
Hannah. It had been the name I’d chosen. The first name that popped into my head two nights ago, when creating my fake little online persona. I liked the name because it was a palindrome. Plus, it just sounded cute.
Or did we bore you to sleep already?
I smirked a little before reaching down for the keyboard again. My fingers flew over the keys with journalistic speed.
Your profile is pretty far from boring, I typed. Almost a little too good to be true, if I’m being honest.
It was, actually. Three shredded, athletic-looking men — all professionals, according to their profile descriptions — all looking to share the same woman. Even judging from their cut-off photos I could tell they were hot-looking. Square, masculine jaws. One clean shaven, the other two covered in sexy stubble…
So you don’t think we’re real? Give me your number.
My heart was actually racing now. It didn’t make sense. I didn’t even know these guys! But if I wanted to write my article…
I hammered out the ten digits, area code first. A half minute went by. Forty-five seconds…
My phone beeped out a new text alert. I grabbed it and punched the button, nearly gasping at what I saw.
The photo on my phone’s screen was absolutely gorgeous! The man had dirty blond hair. Steel grey eyes. His face was beyond handsome, and split wide with the warmest, most genuine of all possible smiles.
Wow…
Below his adorably dimpled chin, he was holding up a small piece of paper. Scrawled across it, apparently in black Sharpie, were the words “Hi Hannah! I’m Adam.”
Somewhere beneath my belly-button, my stomach did a sexy backflip.
