Camping. She shuddered. Her idea of camping was no mint on the pillow. She wasn’t sure this was going to work. And then she read his little intro about himself:
“Hi, my name is Mike Pine, I am 32 years old. I am really new to this online dating thing. I am very active and athletic, work at a ski resort, I teach skiing and also work on the first aid team. In my spare time, I like to run and camp and bike, and I’m looking for friendship or more, whatever and would like to chat with other people who are interested in the same thing—”
Beep-blip! A little chat window popped up and Laura splashed coffee on her hand in surprise at the unexpected sound. “Ow!” she shouted, grabbing a kitchen towel and shaking it out. “What the hell!?” She peered at the now lit-up screen, a familiar chat window open in the right lower-hand corner.
“Oh, geez,” she sputtered, her words echoing through her empty apartment. Somehow he had figured out she was online, ‘cause this was a chat from Marathon Mike himself.
Hi, there. Are you on right now?
Oh, God, she still had the smell of Dylan on her and now she had some new guy coming after her? What a slut she was. She thought about that for a second. The word slut didn’t really apply to her, ever. It was more that she was trying on new behaviors. Let’s try this one on for size, she thought.#p#分页标题#e#
I’m just drinking my coffee and getting ready for work and I logged in and saw your message, so hi!
Oh, good morning! Yeah, I’m not really functional without two or three cups of coffee myself.
He added a little grin icon.
Hmph... yeah who isn’t, she thought.
Laura chugged the rest of her mug’s contents and typed, one-handed,
So I see you’re, like, Mr. Triathlon and ski dude, and my idea of exercise is walking across the room to get the remote.
He wrote back several lines at once:
lolol, yeah don’t be afraid, we could just go for a hike if you want.
Oh, I think I just asked you out.
Yeah I did.
?
“Oh, man,” she muttered. She stared at the glowing screen, dumbfounded, her empty coffee mug dangling precariously off her right index finger as she absorbed this. What was this? Did she hit the good-looking guy lottery? Out of the blue, she just—oh, she had just totally ditched Dylan in his bed last night, and now she had some guy who looked like a lankier version of the actor who played Thor hitting on her, but deep inside she decided she was trying on this new act, and she would just go for it.
Just go for it, Laura. What can it hurt? A swell of physical memory from last night made her warm between her legs, made her skin flush with the recall of Dylan’s hands. She wanted more. And if she couldn’t have more of him, she might as well have some of Mike.
A hike, yeah, I’d like that. That sounds really cool.
And she breathed in opportunity, and breathed out rejection, breathed in despondence, and exhaled chance.
Chance favors the prepared. Laura was more than ready.
At least, that’s what she told herself.
Her Second Billionaire
Mike knew that there was absolutely no chance that she was going to answer his little chat outreach anytime within the next twenty-four hours. He knew that Dylan had a date with her last night, but hoping against hope and because he was an eternal optimist, he decided to log on while he was having his morning cup of coffee.
And to see if maybe—just maybe—she might have answered him, even though it was now six minutes before seven in the morning. He figured she was still in Dylan’s bed, probably going on for round seven (knowing Dylan), and there wasn’t a chance in hell that she would...wait, what?
He stared at his phone where he’d logged into the app for the online dating site. Her little icon blinked rapidly— he’d subscribed to her and her avatar had suddenly turned green.
Oh, holy hell, no! he thought. Hell, yes! a different voice answered in his poor, addled brain. Enough with the ridiculous self doubts—he had to grab his chance now. She was logged on to the dating site early in the morning after a date with Dylan. This meant—oh, the implications stunned him. Made him smirk.
Mike took a swig of coffee and quickly tapped out:
Hi, there. Are you on right now?
She typed back,
I’m just drinking my coffee and getting ready for work and I logged in and saw your message, so hi!
Wait a minute. Back up for a second. So if she was at home drinking her coffee, then that meant Dylan had struck out. Ooh! Well that wasn’t quite what he wanted. He’d wanted Dylan to have some success, but not to hit a home run. And so it looked like maybe he’d hit a single? A double?
The app stared at him, as if it were alive. He quickly punched in: