Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Val44: I might have been checking out your profile. Did you notice anything interesting about our profile pictures?
Donovan620: That’s what caught my attention. Any woman who cannonballs is worth changing my middle name for.
Donovan was witty. I liked him. And maybe, just maybe, his muscles were nice, too. I refilled my wine glass.
Donovan620: That wasn’t the only coincidence. Go ahead, check me out fully.
Clicking back to his profile, I continued to read.
Age: 25
My ideal match: Old enough to know better, young enough to not give a fuck. Smart. Loves the outdoors and simple things in life—like taking the scenic route when driving.
Val44: Did you just add that to your ideal match?
Donovan620: Nope.
Val44: Well, it seems as though we have a few things in common. It’s too bad I don’t meet the rest of your criteria.
Donovan620: What part?
Val44: While I’m definitely old enough to know better, it seems I do give a fuck.
Donovan620: I’ll overlook your sensibility, seeing as you’ve dealt with my unfortunate middle name.
Val44: That’s very kind of you. But we have another problem—one I’m afraid we won’t be able to get past.
Donovan620: And that is…
Val44: You’re too young for me. You’re twenty-five. I’m thirty-seven.
Donovan620: Your profile states that your ideal match is between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-eight.
Val44: My friend wrote that. I’ve recently updated it to over 35.
Donovan620: Is she a good friend?
Val44: Yes. Why?
Donovan620: Then you should listen to her. She knows you and probably knows what she’s talking about.
Val44: Yes, but—
His next message popped up before I could finish.
Donovan620: Age is only a number. What’s important is you’re obviously young at heart since you still cannonball, and you’d choose the scenic route over the faster freeway. Don’t say no just yet. Talk to me for a while. See if we connect. Then decide.
Val44: I don’t know, Donovan. I had a child at a young age. My son is not that much younger than you.
Donovan620: A week. Come on. This is my first experience on Match, and you don’t want to ruin that for me. The outcome of this could scar me for life if it goes sideways.
I thought about it for a while. I wasn’t planning on meeting him in person during that time.
Val44: Is it really your first experience on here?
Donovan620: I swear. You can check the join date on my profile.
I figured he didn’t have a reason to lie about something so insignificant, so I took his word for it. Maybe taking the plunge and talking to someone on here for the first time, when it was also his first time, wouldn’t be too bad. I mean, neither of us would have any preconceived notion of how it was supposed to go, which would probably alleviate the stress of feeling like I had no idea what I was doing.
Val44: And we would just chat online for the next week? Not meet in person?
Donovan620: If that’s what you want, yes.
I knew I had to eventually dip my toe back in the water. Why not take a baby step and chat online? Practice. Since it wouldn’t lead to anything at the end of the week, how could it hurt to agree?
Val44: Okay. A week.
***
“You didn’t tell me you were turning your Memorial Day barbeque into a bash.” I handed Eve a glass cake dish filled with my homemade tiramisu. It was her favorite.
“Just a few extra.”
The backyard was visible from the kitchen through a double set of French doors. There had to be fifty people outside, and inside there were a few milling around, too. Normally, the Monroe Memorial Day barbeque capped at twenty.
“A few? Who are all those people? I would have made two desserts.”
Eve waved off my comment with her hand, then dug into the utensil drawer. She pulled out a huge serving spoon and, before I could stop her, scooped a heaping spoonful from the delectable dessert I’d just handed her.
“That took me hours to make!”
“I wasn’t going to share it anyway. Haven’t you ever noticed that every year I hide it in the back of the fridge and accidentally forget to put it out?”
My phone buzzed in my pocket. It had been doing that a lot lately. Donovan and I had spent hours messaging back and forth the last four days. We’d even progressed from chatting within the dating app to texting—probably not the smartest move, but at least now I got a text notification when he messaged and didn’t have to open the app every five minutes to see if I’d missed something.
Donovan: Did you leave any of that tiramisu at home?
Valentina: I can’t leave any at home, or I’ll eat it. That stuff is my weakness. I might as well glue some ladyfingers to my ass with the calories in there.
Donovan: Now those sound like delicious ladyfingers…
I felt a little tingle reading that last sentence. He’d been polite in our exchanges, for the most part. But sometimes he’d throw in sexy one-liners like that, and I really sort of liked it.