Page 9 of Sour Notes

Girl, what the fuck? NO. You look hot as fuck tonight. Get in there and get some!!

Me

You’d think it was Valentine’s Day in there dude. Anyone remotely interesting is taken so far I’ll head back in soon, but don’t hold your breath. I’m not sure my Chucky’s here tonight.

Kim

Not with that attitude. Come on boo.

I dare you to go forth and let yourself have one wild night

Mia

Way to use my words against me.

Kim

What are friends for? Now come on, before you turn into a pumpkin at midnight.

And you best believe I need receipts! Love you M.

Mia

Love you asshole.

Damn, I wish she was still coming.

Sighing, I swipe to MatchNote to buy myself a few more minutes in my quiet hideaway.

Plus, maybe if I give it a little longer, more single dudes will show up and I can try to rise to the occasion and meet my dare.

Well, actually he’d be the one rising to the occasion.

Hopefully...

Oooohhh, a new match.

Tapping on the flashing envelope, I feel a tiny little spark of hope that maybe this will be the one.

Not the literal one, but the guy who can help me stick it to the trash bag ex who had no problem fucking up my life.

Yay for me, it’s another photo.

Drumroll, please…

Ugh, nope. He’s categorically not it.

There’s a special place in hell reserved for dating apps. I could fill an album with the dick pics I’ve received—this latest entry notwithstanding. I might need a date, but it’ll take more than a photo of a dude’s shriveled up chestnuts to tempt me.

Just as I’m about to head in, leather-covered arms cage me to the railing, as a broad chest brushes against my back, enveloping me in a delicious woody scent.

“Do you like scary movies?” A low, raspy voice sounds in my ear.

My heart rate picks up, and goosebumps run down my arms. He has me trapped, a Ghostface mask the only thing I can see in my peripheral vision.

I should be freaking out.

Why am I not freaking out?