Page 3 of Are You Gonna Run?
“I forgot I said that,” he says with a laugh. “Uh... I guess I just haven’t had time — ormadethe time is probably more accurate. I downloaded that app because my brother told me to, and so far it’s been alright. Haven’t really clicked with anyone beyond a few flirty messages. You were the first worth actually calling. What about you, Rowyn? You’re fucking stunning, good sense of humor, own your own business. Tell me your story.”
He doesn’t want to hear my story and I certainly don’t want to tell it. But I can at least offer him some of the truth. “I haven’t met anyone worth giving up mypersonal time for. I’m pretty busy with the business, so when I’m free, I want to do things I want to do. But I’m also a human being with needs and like my bio said, I really want to go to a haunted house. I figured Tinder was a good way to kill two birds with one stone.”
“Yeah? Is this your favorite time of year?”
“It’s the only time of year I actually like, so yeah.” Grinning, I picture the Halloween decorations I have covering just about every inch upstairs. “I love Christmas too, so really everything from September 1st to the end of the year is my favorite.”
“I agree, this is the superior time of year. So let’s go then. I heard that one at the old prison is pretty good.”
It’s only about an hour away from me and it’s by far my favorite. I just haven’t made it out there in a few years. “Yeah, it’s amazing. I’d love to go.”
“What about tonight? I’m already off for the weekend, and I’d much rather hang out with you than my brothers. You’re much prettier.”
Men are automatically hotter when they have brothers. I don’t know why, I don’tmake the rules, I just know it’s true. “Tonight?” That’s fast. Really fast. I don’t know anything about this guy, and getting in the car with him sounds like a bad idea — a really bad idea. But he’s also my last hope of getting to a haunted house without having to go alone, and if my dad taught me anything, it’s how to defend myself. “Tonight sounds great.”
“Alright, cool. Bring your most unconventional candle for me to smell, Rowyn. Give me some roasting material so I can fulfill both sides of your Tinder bio.”
“I have purple hair, enough fake plants to fill a jungle, freckles only on my chest, I’m a nerd who still likes Pokémon, and I won my school spelling bee three years in a row. Is that enough? I can keep going, I’m an embarrassing bitch.”
“Ah, yeah you’re fun. Do you still remember what word you won the spelling bee with?”
“Acoustic the first year, delectable the second, and ingratiate was the third.” My heart skips a beat when I realize I really, really want to hear him say my name again. “I lost the following year. The word was homonym.”
“I don’t even know what that one is, so I won’t hold it against you. Back to the hair, though. This have anything to do with the mommy issues thing? Something tells me she didn’t allow you to dye your hair in high school.”
“Wouldn’t let me cut it either,” I mutter. “She also hated my curls so she made me straighten it. It took me almost a year to fix my curl pattern.”
“Sounds about right. I won’t bully the hair, it’s too damn pretty and I’ve only seen one picture. Wait, why was there only one picture? Are you catfishing me, Rowyn?”
He said it again. It’s so distracting I almost forget he only had one picture too. “I am, actually. Yeah. I’m really 6’7, have a Mom tattoo on my forehead, and I’m actually bald. Is that okay? I promise I’m still nice. Sometimes.”
“6’7? Fuck,” he laughs. “I think that’s a little tall for me, beautiful. I don’t think I could pull off the five-inch heels it’d take to be eye level with you.”
The math definitely plays out in my favor there. I’m only 5’5, so I’ll take a man who’s 6’2 any day. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to work around it. You’re catfishing me too, aren’t you? I wasn’t the only onewith one picture. There’s no way you’re that hot. It’s okay.”
Eris huffs. “Yup. I’m Made Of Wax, Larry. What Are You Made Of?” He pauses for a second. “That was a lame joke that tied into your profession and my next question about your choice of music.”
“If you’re asking if I’m an A Day to Remember fan, the answer is yes.” Finally, a guy on Tinder who doesn’t exclusively listen to Morgan Wallen. “And I think I love you now.”
“Well then I guess we’re getting married. Let me guess, fall wedding? Black lace wedding dress?”
Am I really that predictable?
“No,” I scoff unbelievably. “Not at all.”
“Mmhm. So are you going to send me your address or is there a place we could meet that you’d be more comfortable with?”
Oh, shit. He was serious. My stomach squirms with excitement, then dips when I realize I desperately need a shower. “Uh... yeah. I’ll just send you my address, it’s fine. If you’re gonna kill me, you’ll do it no matter where you pick me up.”
“You’re not wrong. Plus I could just follow you after and find your address outanyw— forget I said that. It was probably the worst attempt at a joke I’ve made this whole time. I really haven’t killed anyone before that I know of.”
That’s good to know, but isn’t that what all killers would say? “Mmhm, I believe you. I’ll text you my address. I can be ready in like an hour and a half, if that’s okay? It doesn’t take that long to get there.”
“Yeah that works. I have to shower too. See you soon, Rowyn.”
“See you soon.” Biting my lip, I hang up and hold my phone to my chest for a moment. As long as nothing goes wrong, I’ll finally get what I want. And what happens after that doesn’t matter. I’m not looking for forever, just looking for a little fun and a little fright.
Something tells me Eris will deliver.
