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I take it out a little apprehensively, and turn it on. A new notification from Curve Connection lights up the screen, and my heart stutters. Oh god, I can’t look at another unsolicited dick pic.
“I can’t do this,” I mutter to myself. “I’m deleting this whole thing.”
But something stops me from deleting the app. I don’t know if it’s morbid curiosity or the need to believe that there are some good guys out there, but I open the messages and take a look.
Immediately, the new message looks different. There’s no lewd subject or picture attached, which raises my hopes. With my eyes slightly closed, just in case, I open the message from NerdGuy and am pleasantly surprised that it starts with “Hi, how are you?”
Well, that’s different—no “Hey there, sweet butt” or “Do you wanna party?” He’s by far the best suitor to date. I continue to read his kind and thoughtful message, my stomach fluttering with excitement as he talks about his trek to the Grand Canyon and how it made him feel. It’s strange that a person you’ve never met can perfectly encapsulate your own feelings, because I, too, had reflected on my own mortality and my place in the world as I stood there and watched the sunrise. Looking back now, I think it was then that I accepted that my marriage wasn’t working, but I had no clue how to fix it.
I read the message a few times, his final words ringing in my ears.
‘So this is me, seizing the day and taking a chance. Do you want to take that chance with me?’
Do I? Is this guy really different from the others or is he just playing the long game? Will I open up to him only to receive an indecent proposition or god forbid, another dick pic? I guess I won’t know until I reply, but I have no idea how to go about this. I haven’t dated in over a decade so I have no clue how to strike up a conversation with someone online.
I suddenly realize I’m so taken with his message I totally forgot to look at his profile. As it loads, I look eagerly at his picture; he’s running on the beach, his strong muscular back and shoulders are covered with tattoos, and he’s wearing a baseball cap that partly conceals his face. I can tell that he’s got dark hair and obviously takes care of himself.
I scroll down and view his details.
Username: NerdGuy
Age: 28
Occupation: Technology/Entrepreneur
My stomach sinks. Oh my gosh, he’s twenty-eight! I cringe at the fact there’s a ten-year age gap between us. There’s no way a guy that age would want to date a divorcee who’s knocking on the door of forty. All the horrible things Patrick used to say to me about my body and size come screaming back to me, and I wonder if he messaged me by mistake.
But then I shake my head and muster all the confidence I can—why the hell shouldn’t this hot young guy want me? There’s no way he sent that message by mistake. It was thoughtful and personal and he definitely meant it for me. And I wasn’t hiding my age or my background. I put it all out there for the world to see.
As I wander into the kitchen, I look at NerdGuy’s profile again, zooming in on his picture so I can fully appreciate his muscular thighs and bulging arms. My eyes linger on his round butt and the heat between my thighs ignites like it hasn’t in a very long time. My nipples bead against my thin tank top, and my skin heats up. Jesus, I must be hard up if a picture of a stranger is making me this horny. But I realize it’s not just his picture, it’s also the words in his message that are turning me on. I’m going to have to think very carefully about how I reply to him and that’s not a job for tonight. After a good night’s sleep I may have some idea of what to say.
∞∞∞
The next morning, I’m in the middle of a lovely dream about a sexy, tattooed man running toward me on the beach when I’m rudely awakened by loud banging and scraping coming from the apartment above mine. God damn it, it’s Sunday morning. Who the hell is up there making all that noise?
I throw the comforter off, kicking it to the bottom of my bed and stare at the ceiling as the noise continues overhead. The owners didn’t inform me that they were doing maintenance in the apartment, so it must be a new tenant banging around up there. Whoever they are, they have no respect for hard-working people who only get one sleep-in day a week. As I lay there staring at the ceiling, I get angrier and angrier, each thump and scrape makes me twitch and seethe until I can’t stand it anymore.
With my teeth gritted and my fists balled, I push my feet into my slippers and stomp out my door. I take the external staircase up. On my way, I look down and notice an SUV in the driveway, blocking my own car in, and that just makes me even madder.
When I reach the top of the stairs, I bang furiously on the screen door, making it rattle in its frame, stepping back with my hands on my hips so it’s immediately apparent to the occupant that I’m not a happy camper.
As I hear heavy footsteps approaching, I tap my foot impatiently on the wooden deck until the door swings open. I let out a growl of annoyance.
“You?” I say through gritted teeth when I come face to face with the tall, broad frame of Tate Harrison, his hair sweaty and damp from the exertion of making so much fucking noise. A cocky smirk spreads across his handsome face, which only fuels my fury.
“Principal Vega. What a nice surprise.” His eyes drag down my body, and I suddenly realize I’m standing at his door in a thin tank top, short sleep shorts and, horror of horrors, no bra! “You’re not really dressed for my welcome meeting.”
God damn his handsome smirking face! “I’m not here as your welcome wagon, Mr. Harrison,” I snap, crossing my arms over my full breasts, my hard nipples grazing my skin, and I curse my curvy figure. “I’m your downstairs neighbor and all your noise woke me up.”
He looks at his Smartwatch and cocks his eyebrow. “It’s eleven am.”
Ugh, he’s so annoying! “Like I said, it’s my morning to sleep in. What are you doing up here? Building something?”
Tate crosses his thick arms across his chest, mirroring my stance, and I notice yet again what strong, corded forearms he has. I’m a sucker for arm porn, but I’m too angry to enjoy it right now.
“I’m rearranging the office space so I can look at the ocean while I work,” he replies as if that should’ve been obvious.
“Well I’d appreciate it if you could keep the noise down, I like peace and quiet on a Sunday.” I turn around and stomp back down the stairs, fully aware that my butt cheeks are visible, peeking out the bottom of my sleep shorts and no doubt jiggling with each step I take. It makes me move as quickly as I can without falling on my face, and once I’m around the corner at the bottom of the stairs, I plaster my body against the building, my cheeks burning with fury and embarrassment. I can’t fucking believe I’ve just had a confrontation with that sexy, infuriating man while wearing this outfit! I look down and see my hard nipples straining against the thin fabric and let out a groan, slapping my forehead and scurrying back into my apartment.
