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“I have a friend who used this one particular app, and she had great success,” Connie begins, “It caters for men who have certain … tastes.”
“You’re really not selling it to me,” I snap, “It sounds like you’ve signed me up for some weird S&M bondage app for men who want a naughty school principal to whip and humiliate them.”
Connie guffaws loudly. “Don’t worry, it’s not kinky.”
“Fantastic.” My voice drips with sarcasm.
“It’s called Curve Connection. The men who sign up are looking for women who are curvaceous and confident, just like you!”
“Are you insane?” I cry, finally standing up to pace back and forth across the deck. “I may be curvy, but the gorgeous and confident part?” I scoff, “That’s hardly me anymore. Patrick made sure of that!”
“See, this is exactly why I chose this app,” Connie raises her voice slightly. “I know how that dick made you feel about yourself, and I want you to connect with men who worship your curves and tell you every day what a fucking knock out you are. Because you are a beautiful woman, Jessica Vega, both inside and out, and it’s time you start to believe it.”
I can tell by the tone and volume of my bestie’s voice that she means business, and no matter how much I protest, she won’t drop it until I at least agree to upload the app onto my phone.
I let out a huge gust of breath and pick up my phone, closing the phone page to open the App Store. “What’s the app called?” I sigh.
Connie’s squeals burst out of my phone so loudly, a few birds take flight from the trees nearby. She talks me through signing into the app and how to find the profile she has set up for me.
“Oh my god, Connie!” I whine when I see the picture of me taken at her last birthday. “You can’t have a picture of me on here, what if a parent or member of my faculty sees it?”
“There’s no law against you being on a dating app, Jess,” Connie argues. “You’re a principal, not a fucking nun!”
“I know, but while I’m just exploring the app I’m going to change it to a less obvious picture.” I quickly open my camera roll to find the picture I’m looking for—a shot that Partick took of me when we went hiking through the Grand Canyon. It’s taken from behind and shows my face in a slight profile, so unless you know it’s me, I’m not easily identifiable.
Even though Patrick took the picture, it’s still one of my favorites. We got to the edge of the canyon at sunrise and the lighting was great—plus my butt looked pretty good in the shorts I wore that day.
Connie stays on the phone with me while I adjust my profile and preferences. All I have left to do is change my status to Available.
“So, you don’t hate me?” Connie asks quietly, “You know I love you, sweetie. I just don’t want you to hide away up there in that sleepy little town and turn into the next spinster school teacher.”
“No, I don’t hate you,” I laugh. I’m touched that my friend cares about me so much. “You’re gonna owe me a trip to an expensive spa to make up for springing this on me, but I know it came from a good place, so I forgive you.”
“Good.” Connie breathes a sigh of relief, “Now spend the weekend exploring the app, and see if any guys get your juices flowing. You don’t have to connect with anyone, you can just check out some profiles.”
“Okay, Mom,” I laugh, rolling my eyes. Although Connie and I are the same age, she always tries to mother me. I know it comes from a place of love, so I let her, most of the time!
“Night sweetie, let me know if you find any hunks. I want pictures!”
“Bye Connie.” I end the call and drop my cell phone onto the seat next to me.
Shivering, I realize it’s now dark, and the temperature has dropped so much that my bare arms and legs are now covered in goosebumps. I quickly gather my phone and wine glass and head back inside. I pour myself another glass, and settle on the couch, pulling a blanket over me to warm up.
As I sit there and toy with the idea of exploring the app, my mind wanders to the grumpy tech guy I met with at the beginning of the week. I still cringe when I remember our first encounter, but I also remember how hard his body was, how I felt the ridges and valleys of the muscles in his chest when I tried to clean up the mess I made. As I recall the size and firmness of his body, I feel that long lost feeling of arousal in my core; a warm tingly sensation that makes me squirm under the blanket and squeeze my thighs together.
But just like a bucket of ice water to my libido, I recall what an unpleasant, grumpy asshole he was, and how he grunted and grumbled like a caveman through our meeting. My stomach flips at the thought of seeing Tate again, and working closely with him on the project. I just hope he mellows out a bit or it could be a very long couple of weeks.
Chapter 4
Tate
The weather in San Francisco is perfect today; cool and sunny, and I’ve run an extra two miles, knowing that I’ll be holed up in my tech cave for the rest of the day, writing code. I want to take advantage of the familiar running routes before I temporarily relocate to Crescent Bay to work on the project for the elementary school. Tanner thought it would be more cost effective to rent a place in Crescent Bay while I set up the hardware, so he rented me an apartment with a view of the ocean, and I plan to move in tomorrow. It’s a nice two-bed unit, which means my brother can come down to help when I need him, especially when the Smart Boards need fitting.
Tanner’s out when I get home from my run, so I jump in the shower, then fix myself a bowl of oatmeal and a protein shake for breakfast. After cleaning up my dishes, I make my way down into the basement to turn on the monitors and begin answering critical emails. I have a glitchy code to rewrite for the Curve Connection app, so I put my earbuds in, select my Foo Fighters playlist and get to work. I love writing code; it’s something I’ve always enjoyed, and I get immense satisfaction from it. I can spend hours lost in a project and that’s exactly what happens today.
By the time I come up for air, it’s past lunchtime, and my stomach is rumbling. Thankfully, the code is almost finished, so I log off and head back upstairs where Tanner is sitting at his desk talking on the phone. He waves at me then points to the take-out bags on the kitchen counter. When I peek inside the bag, I see my favorite salmon poke bowl, causing my stomach to grumble again as I take it and the bottle of water over to the couch.
“That was the Smart Board supplier,” Tanner says as he joins me on the couch with his order of sushi and soda. “They’ll be delivered to Crescent Bay in two weeks.”
