___
My heart hammers in my chest as I wait for him to respond, and to his nature, or so I’ve gathered in this short interaction, his reply is nearly immediate.
Message Received
Subject: Quick question: Angel or Star
If I were to tie you up, would you prefer to be tied with tinsel or Christmas lights? I saw Christmas lights being done in a book once and it seemed like fun. The guy didn’t plug them in, but we could try that, if you were down.
-T
___
The moment my eyes drag over the closing of his message, I click on his profile and hit the bright red block button that sits at the bottom.
Goodbye Tristian from San Marcos. Please don’t ever try to find me again.
A shiver runs through me with disgust, and I take a gulp of my coffee, letting it warm my insides. That seems like enough messages for the day, but I still have several I haven’t read yet. Honestly, they can wait. Later, I’ll reply to Mateo, and I’ll say yes to the party with Ethan and Axel, too. Axel’s pie sweater party thing actually sounds really fun.
Tossing my phone onto the couch, I sink further into the cushions and turn the volume up on the TV so I can watch the movie I put on. I have a few hours before I need to be at work, so I might as well make the best of the quiet solitude before I make my way back into the holiday shopping craze.
“Hey, boss! What are you doing here on a Saturday?” Genesis asks as I slip into the break room to put my purse in my locker.
“Covering for Peter.” The metal scrapes against itself, clashing with my words. “He went out of town for Thanksgiving and doesn’t come back until tomorrow.”
“Oh, that's nice of you,” she muses as I engage my lock. Giving her a smile, I pass her on my way to the door. Telling her I’m taking her advice and making plans not to be alone this holiday season is on the tip of my tongue, but I’m not sure how much information I want to share with her.
“See you out there,” I say instead and head onto the main floor. My shoulder clips the wall on my way out, and I hiss, bringing my hand to rub the tender spot.
The bookstore is bustling with people shopping, which is amazing to see. Thanks to the uptick in social media influencers talking about books on various platforms, independent bookstores are flourishing. A fresh shipment of books should be here on Monday, and I was excited to see one of the indie authors I just took a chance on ordering went viral. We’ve already had three calls asking if we have her book in stores.
The timing is perfect.
By the end of my shift, my legs and feet ache. I wore my most comfortable pair of combat boots—the heel’s only two inches—but it seems like this is my body's way of telling me I’m getting too old to prioritize cute over comfort.
In my defense, they were the cutest pair of shoes to pair with my black sweater, buffalo plaid skirt, and black tights.
The cafe is quiet tonight, so I decide to grab myself a tea before leaving, and as I check my phone while I wait, my breath hitches at the number of notifications waiting for me from SparksFly.
How can I have thirty-two messages?
Scrolling through the insane amount of messages, I’m too overwhelmed to open any of them.
How can this many people need a date for a holiday gathering?
There’s one message that catches my eye as I’m about to close out of the app, so I open it while I wait for my tea.
Message received
Subject: How many messages have you received?
I’m placing bets on at least twenty by now.
Hi. My name is Lincoln. I’m thirty years old and live in Mira Mesa. Your bio was intriguing to me–it was as though you heard my inner thoughts and put them into a sentence. Yes, my family is breathing down my neck to settle down. As a doctor, I don’t have a lot of time to socialize, let alone meet someone who isn’t a colleague. My parents are insisting I come for dinner on Christmas Eve since I’m scheduled to be at the hospital in the afternoon on Christmas. I’d love to have someone by my side so the meal (and the holiday) is enjoyable and not peppered with questions about when I’m going to find a special someone.
I know asking for your time on Christmas Eve is a stretch, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.
Looking forward to hearing back.
