Page 21 of The Kiss Connection

“And so were a half-dozen other girls.”

“I found her on the app,” I say, leaving out the part where I noticed Conrad swiping right on her when he showed me the app for the first time. “Anyways, she messaged me a not so nice not interested message.”

“What’d she say?” Conrad is grinning profusely, way too eager to hear the rejection message.

“Does it matter? It’s my ego we’re talking about.”

Conrad puts an arm around my shoulder. “I promise, there will be other girls who will throw themselves at your dick. Now, let me see this text that has you wallowing.”

“I’m not wallowing.”

“You’re sulking,” Conrad corrects himself and holds out his hand. “Let me see the text.”

I open the app and pull up the messages, handing him my phone.

Juniper: GET LOST, YOU SLEEZY PIECE OF SHIT.

He laughs under his breath. “There has to be a story behind this. What’d you say to her before this text? Did you delete your messages?”

“No. I spent a few minutes beside her at the bar when I ordered drinks. That was it.”

“Wow, you must have really been an ass to her to get that type of response.”

“I swear I wasn’t. I keep trying to remember what I said, what might have been misconstrued, but she said I was cute and then told me she was with someone. That was the end of it.” I rub my forehead, my head beginning to throb.

“Well, something got lost in translation. I mean, at the bar. Because this is spelled out pretty damn clearly. She hates you.”

“Well, feeling’s mutual.”

“Is it?” Conrad asks, raising an eyebrow at me. “You convinced the girl who told you she wasn’t interested in dating a hockey player to go out with you, well, technically me. Why keep talking to her? You don’t strike me as the kind of guy to do mean shit to a girl. But I could be wrong.”

I bite my tongue because Conrad is right. I have two cousins who are girls, and if anyone ever did some kind of shit like what I did to Juniper to them, I’d want to kill the guy.

He pats me reassuringly on the back. “Just forget about her. It’s doubtful you’ll run into her again. And if you do, like at Blue Line, then just,” he’s quiet for a second, gathering his thoughts, “apologize.”

“You want me to apologize when she wrote that nasty message?” I balk at his suggestion.

He finishes unpacking the last of the kitchen boxes, and the apartment is mostly organized. The place looks decent. It doesn’t quite feel like home yet, but it’ll get there.

“You stood her up on a date. So, yes, grow up and take the high road. Treating a girl like shit because she rejected you, it’s gross. There are plenty more girls who would beg to get into your pants.”

I rub the back of my neck anxiously. I hadn’t quite thought about what I’d done in that way, like I’d been scorned by her rejection and getting even.

Acting out of impulse is what I’d done, but it’s not really any different.

Fuck.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

That’s not the kind of man I want to be. I unblock Juniper from my phone, but I can’t message her. Turns out, she’s blocked me on the app. Well, shit.

Suppose I deserve that.

My eyes light up, realizing there is one way to reach her. I have her phone number. I send her a text, unsure whether she’ll answer it or tell me to get lost.

Me: I’m sorry for standing you up; that was a shitty thing to do.

After a few seconds, the message shows as read.