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“Ready?” I position myself at the opening of her slick folds.
“Yes, please, Chris, now,” she says, her voice throaty, betraying the ache of her desire.
It’s all the invitation I need. Gripping her hips, I plunge inside, filling her. A groan escapes my throat at the tight fit and her eyes screw shut as she gasps.
We move in sync, and it doesn’t take long for her to come again. I follow suit after only a few more strokes, enjoying the view of her breasts bouncing with each thrust in the mirrors all around.
When we still, our breath coming fast and hard, her head falls to rest on her forearm. I don’t withdraw, but run my hands up and down her back, kneading and massaging every luscious inch.
The clock on the wall shows it’s after midnight.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Cassie.”
She lifts her head and meets my eyes in the mirror. “Best Valentine’s Day ever.”
I can’t help but agree. “Best blind date ever.”
8
Cassie
“Bets on who’s slept together. My money’s on the couple on the couch.”
Chris dips his chin in their direction as he reaches for a heart-shaped cranberry scone from the breakfast spread down one side of the green room.
I stir two packets of sugar into my steaming coffee and add a splash of cream before risking a glance toward the couch.
“No bet. They’ve definitely done it.”
“The two on their phones?”
My eyes trail to the couple he’s looking at and shake my head as I lift the paper cup to my lips, careful of the glossy lipstick the makeup artist convinced me to wear only a few minutes ago.
“They definitely didn’t find the one.”
“New game,” he says, his lip curling into a smile as we make our way over to an empty pair of cushioned chairs. “Over or under twenty?”
“Over or under twenty, what?”
“Number of times Ashley saysThe Oneduring the segment.”
“Easy. Over.”
“You think?”
“Are you kidding? This is prime time forThe One. Valentine’s Day is probably the busiest day of the year. Who knows how much they paid to sponsor what is basically a weeklong ad on national TV?”
“Don’t you think Valentine’s Day is bad timing for a first date? What with all the pressure and expectations?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Says the guy who signed up to go on a blind date on tv the week of Valentine’s Day.”
He holds both hands up. “Point taken. But,” he adds, with a wink, “I’d have to say it turned out pretty well.”
“I’ll give you that, but Valentine’s Day is probably when dating apps get a lot of new users, too. With love in the air and on the brain, all the singles who aren’t meeting anyone in real life decide to give online dating a go and probably figure no time like the present.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. When did you sign up?”
I choke on a sip of coffee and cough until my throat clears, buying a minute while I dab my eyes with a napkin —careful of the makeup— and try to figure out how to tell Chris the truth. I clear my throat and, just when I’m about to come clean, my phone, sitting on the table in between us, buzzes. The screen lights up with a caller ID that reads Mom.
