“Yeah…so…how’s it going?” they asked with eager, expectant smiles.
I paused for a moment before replying, “It certainly gives me lots of someones to do.”
They erupted in laughter and applause, swooning with envy. They would have loved to be put on a pedestal as rich single ladies—plastered all over the internet as Heartstring’s poster child for what people might find on the app. Me telling them what they wanted to hear only fueled their admiration for it all.
But the truth was, I hadn’t slept with a single person I met through Heartstring. For one, being such a prominent and featured user—I was terrified that I would be targeted by serial killers and date rapists. Even with Jack’s strict rules and protection to prevent such a thing, I had yet to meet anyone who could hold my interest for longer than dinner and a drink or two.
“So will you go see Mr. Hottie over there after dinner? Or are you holding out for one of your Heartstring dates?” Veronica asked.
I put on my classic indifferent and breezy expression. “Who knows what could happen. The night is young.”
“Cheers to that!” Miranda shrieked, lifting her glass in the air.
They cackled like hyenas as we toasted. Conversation quickly devolved into shallow talk about all the hot guys in the hotel bar that night, or stories from some of their recent one night stands. I used to be just as boy crazy as the rest of them. Until I had so many boys that they all seemed mind-numbingly boring.
As they talked, I found myself drifting off into the background. I silently sipped cocktails and tried to force a smile when they expected it. Deep down, I was bored. And even worse, I was lonely. It was one thing to be lonely when you were actually alone. But it was another thing entirely to be lonely while surrounded by people.
After a while, our model friend Kate tracked us down and joined the table. Not being in on the conversation, she was quicker to pick up on my disenchantment.
“Hey,” she nudged my shoulder. “You okay, doll?”
“I’m too sober,” I decided. “Waiter! More drinks, please! The next round is on me!”
The whole table cheered, and somehow more people seemed to keep joining our party. All the other guests stared at us with desire and resentment. They wanted to be one of us. I just wanted to go home.
But home that night was an empty hotel room. Luxurious as it might have been, I needed to get my kicks where I could. So I drank more, hoping that I was just one cocktail away from having fun with the rest of them.
After dinner and drinks at the hotel, we were off to another VIP area of some club that just opened. We drank Cristal and slipped the DJ hundred dollar bills to only play our requests and no one else’s. It led to a sweaty night of dancing that stretched into the early morning hours.
As closing time was nearing, each of the ladies I came with appeared to have found themselves in the arms of some guy for the evening. I kept a close watch in case any of them ended up with a dud and needed to be saved. But all seemed to be going well for them that night. Good for them, I thought. As shallow and obnoxious as they could be at times, everyone deserved to have a little fun.
I stayed on my perch in a dark corner, sipping my drink and watching the dwindling crowd. I was just about to call it a night when a guy walked up. He was even beefier than the one from dinner, and he was more my type with dark skin, hair, and eyes.
“Hey, mystery woman,” he winked. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Mystery woman?” I winced. Of course a guy I was actually attracted to would mess it up with some cheesy line right off the bat.
“I’ve been watching you all night. I can’t seem to figure you out. I thought maybe if we had a drink together, I might be able to tell why a woman who looks like you is sitting all alone in a place like this.”
As he talked, he moved in closer. Our eyes locked and with all the alcohol buzzing through my body, it was more than just a little tempting to want to invite him back to my room—even if he did say all the wrong things. But just as we were inches away from kissing, I hopped down from my stool and grabbed my bag.
“Maybe some other time,” I lied. “There’s really nothing so mysterious about me. My legs were tired, so I quit dancing. I’m alone because I wanted to be. And right now…I’m going home. Have a nice night, handsome.”
He gawked as I walked away, giving me the feeling that he didn’t get rejected often. But I kept going all the way back to the hotel. Some cold water to drink and a hot bath to soak in was starting to sound more appealing than another disappointing man.
Maybe my brother was right. Maybe Heartstring did give me something to do, and it might be good for me. And maybe love was just the cure I needed for the funk I had slipped into. But even with the stupid dating site parading me around as one of it’s most coveted bachelorettes, I didn’t have a clue how to find real love. I just kept waiting for it to find me.
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Also by Lauren Wood
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