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“What can it hurt?”
“Fine.” She tapped on the profile button for the sender. Some dude named Jeremy. The black-and-white photo was small, so she touched the thumbnail to make it full-screen. “Who takes a picture like that?” It was obviously done by a professional in a photo studio. Shadows and light played tricks across the full-body shot making it hard to tell what he really looked like. He seemed slender and fit, not too tall or short. In the middle, the way Melody liked. He was glancing over his shoulder toward the photographer, his brooding eyes mostly obscured. Light slashed across his face revealing the sharp cut of his jaw.
Whoever he was, he was attractive.
“He kinda reminds me of TJ,” Melody mused aloud. “What I can see of him, anyway.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Lucy grabbed the phone and studied the image. “You have to admit my brother is a total hottie.”
“I admit it.” Melody set the phone down with a sigh. In one glance, this Jeremy reminded her way too much of TJ. If she hit it off with him and they eventually moved from online to in-person dating, would she look at her date and wish he actuallywereTJ every time? She couldn’t think of anything more miserable.
“I’m going to delete the app.”
“Wait! Look, it says he’s online right now. Don’t you want to find out more? Just a little?”
A strange part of her did. The lonely, love-starved part that wondered if she’d ever measure up to anyone’s ideal. Taking a deep breath, she accepted the match request.
“What happens now?” she asked in a whisper.
“I don’t know,” Lucy whispered back. “Why are we whispering?”
Before she could answer, a message bubble popped up.
Lucy gasped. “He wrote to you!”
Melody’s heart triple-timed. This was insane. She wasn’t going to converse with a complete stranger. He could be a fifty-five-year-old rapist looking for his next victim. A serial killer. A hormonal teenager passing himself off as someone older.
“Aww. What a sweet message.”
Melody’s brow furrowed. Lucy shouldn’t be reading her private messages. She jerked the phone off the table and read the message.
Hi, Melody. I’m Jeremy. I’m new to this app. I couldn’t help noticing your beautiful profile picture, so I read more about you. I guess we both like sunny days at the beach. We’ll have to endure the long winter before we can hit up the sand again from the looks of it. I’d love to chat more to pass the cold days… and maybe make a friend. Or more, who knows? If you’re interested in talking further, reply any time. – Jeremy
She hummed in her throat and read the message again. “He doesn’tsoundlike a stalker.”
“A stalker!” Lucy laughed. “Stick to cooking shows. Obviously, you’ve watched too much CSI. This guy sounds like a total sweetheart. And he’ssoooeasy on the eyes.”
Melody stared at the shadowy picture. Something wasn’t right about it. But she didn’t know what. “I don’t know if I’m going to write back or even keep the app. But I’ll think about it.” She closed the app. “Enough dating nonsense. Are you watching jerk-face chef-judges douse the flames of aspiring dreams with me or not?”
“Well, when you put it like that. How could I refuse?”
They made instant noodles with extra spice and settled down on her lumpy couch, wrapping throw blankets over their legs asWorst Cooks in Americabegan. Melody never got tired of these episodes, her attention generally glued to the screen with such avid fascination TJ sometimes had to snap his fingers in front of her face before she heard him.
But not tonight. Tonight her mind kept going back to the obscure image of a man named Jeremy who liked the beach on sunny days.
By the end of the episode, she made up her mind.
She wouldn’t delete the app. She would write back to Jeremy. Tonight.
Chapter Three
TJ stared at the blank screen, then lowered the lid of his laptop until it clicked shut. What was the point of writing a sequel when no one would read the first? Besides, he couldn’t think of anything except Melody ever since he sent that message via Holy Appimony. Was he out of his mind?
Flicking out the light, he slid between the sheets and tugged his thick, down comforter to his chin. Before the failed attempt at starting book two, he passed the better part of his evening gazing at the ceiling in agony. The time had led to three separate conclusions.
Lucy had lost her last shred of sanity with this crazy dating app trick.
His agreement was probably his poorest decision in life yet—and he’d made his fair share of dumb choices.
