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That night on the way to work, Sarah came to a reluctant conclusion. The online dating scenario just wasn’t working for her, no matter how sweet HotNCold was. She couldn’t handle the risk of letting down her guard with someone who might turn out to be something other than what he’d appeared. She’d been there before, and it sucked. The idea of possibly dating Blake in real life was scary but somehow less so than it seemed before. At least he was a known quantity.
Sarah had assumed that dating someone via computer would be totally safe and anonymous. Now she was involved with this man, even intimate in a bizarre way. She didn’t even know for sure that the fabulous abs in his photo were his or that “he” was even a guy, for that matter. Anyone could be sitting behind that keyboard.
How do I break up with someone online? What’s the etiquette?
She didn’t feel right about dumping the guy by disappearing and never responding to his messages again. He hadn’t done anything to deserve it. In fact, he’d been totally accommodating. He showed respect for her. She should return the favor and let him down easy.
She needed to explain.
When she got to the restaurant, Sarah went straight into the dining room to her “office” behind the bar then tapped out a note on her phone. She pushed Send.
* * *
WHEN BLAKE CHECKED his phone after work that evening, he found Sarah’s message. He stood in the parking lot outside the factory and read it with his key in the door to his truck, distracted in midmotion.
She was ditching him. That much was clear. She wanted to meet “one more time” online to talk about why she couldn’t “see” him anymore.
Blake stuffed his phone into his pocket and got into the truck. Resting his forehead against the steering wheel, he closed his eyes. His failed attempt at being sexy in writing had obviously sealed his doom. He’d seen it coming. Stupid of him to think this could work.
The only good thing was that maybe now he didn’t have to humiliate himself by confessing his double identity after all. He’d been trying to figure out how to pull that off without losing her completely. If she was dumping HotNCold, then why shouldn’t Blake benefit, and none the wiser? The conflict and competition would be over.
Maybe he’d never have to tell her. His mom wouldn’t approve, but it would be a hell of a lot easier. Jordan had obviously noticed he’d been hanging around the restaurant and chatting her up, but he didn’t know the rest. It could stay a secret.
Blake sat up and typed on his phone.
HotNCold: Sorry to let you down, Coco. Guess I’m not very good at this.
He clicked Send, and she must have been checking her phone, because a few seconds later came the reply.
CocoLvr: Don’t say that, you’re great. It’s not you, it’s me.
Blake couldn’t help smiling.
HotNCold: Hey, I’ve heard that line before! LOL
CocoLvr: LOL! No, really, I mean it.
HotNCold: OK, so why is it you? What’s wrong, Coco, if it’s not my crappy sexting?
There was a pause. He waited, watching his messages.
Then the screen blinked, and the chime sounded as her reply appeared.
CocoLvr: Sorry, I’m at work. Had to pour wine. It’s kind of a long story, Hot.
HotNCold: And you’re working, I get it. Never mind.
CocoLvr: No, I mean it. It started with my father, if you really want to know. Then my ex-husband continued the tradition. Bottom line is, I have issues with trust.
Blake held his breath. She was opening up now. She must really like him, or she wouldn’t tell him all this.
HotNCold: It’s understandable. But not every guy you meet online is out to hurt you, Coco.
Another pause.
CocoLvr: I know, Hot. It just makes me too nervous. I’m a wreck. I even started imagining someone is watching my house.
Blake frowned. What is she talking about?
HotNCold: For real, Coco? What happened?
She told him about the noises, the truck across the street, and the trampled bushes. A surge of protectiveness made him want to rush over and patrol her neighborhood.
HotNCold: You should call the cops if that happens again.
CocoLvr: Oh, I don’t think it will. I’m probably making it all up. That’s the point.
HotNCold: I see. Look, Coco. I don’t want anything from you that you don’t want to give, so relax. I’d love to stay friends, if you’re open to it. But I’ll back off now, give you some peace. You can message me if you want to talk. I’ll be here for you.
Next came a longer pause, and Blake was actually driving out of the parking lot when the next message made his phone chirp. He pulled over to read it.
CocoLvr: You’re the sweetest guy I know, Hot. Thanks for understanding.
He sighed in relief. He’d been able to really turn it around. Now, don’t push it. He grinned before typing his reply.
HotNCold: No sweat, kiddo. Stay in touch!
CocoLvr: I will.
HotNCold: Bye now.
He added a red heart and a smiley face, since he knew women loved those weird little pictures.
She sent back a lipstick print and a hand waving.
Well, it wasn’t a real kiss goodbye, but it was the online equivalent. It was the most he could expect, considering.
Every lady in distress needs a hero to protect her, he thought. It sounded as though somebody was messing with Sarah. Even if it was paranoia, as she thought, she would still appreciate a knight in shining armor.
Tomorrow was the last game of the baseball playoffs, and he knew Sarah would be there. The perfect opportunity, Blake thought. He headed home to polish up his shield and sword.
* * *
IT WAS A SLOW NIGHT at The Three Chocolatiers, and Sarah spent most of the evening behind the bar, playing Bubble Mania on her phone while she thought about Blake. The memory of that moment in his office when he’d reached for her, right before the phone rang, still made her breathless. If only she hadn’t been so nervous.
After the last customers said good night, Sarah took off her long brown apron and went to lock the front door. She stepped outside for a breath of air. Looking up and down the street, she saw no signs of a tall man and a brown dog, so she hugged herself and sighed.
One moment she’d had two men pursuing her, then she pushed them both away and was left with nobody. How would she ever find the right guy if she kept this up? The internet was cool, but it was time to give old-fashioned socializing another try. She was totally fed up with being lonely and miserable.
Sarah went home, let Hershey out, started the dishwasher, and climbed the stairs. She checked on Devon and found him lying with the covers thrown back to let the breeze coming in the window cool his skin. She kissed his cheek, careful not to wake him.
Sarah went into her room, where Hershey had already curled up on his mat.
As she undressed in the dark, she thought about Blake again. He would be at the playoffs tomorrow, since his team was competing against Devon’s for the championship. She’d have a chance to see if he was still interested. Something needed to change, that was certain. Even with a great kid, a wonderful, supportive family, and good friends, she still had an empty place inside that hungered, all the time, no matter what she did to distract herself. Dreams and fantasies certainly weren’t going to help.
Sarah collapsed into bed, pushed her face into the pillow to muffle the sound, and let the tears come. A few minutes later, she rubbed her face on the sheet, sat up, and reached into her bedside table drawer, but it was empty.
Of course, it’s downstairs, she thought and swung her legs out of bed.
She padded down to the kitchen on bare feet and found the white paper bag she’d left on the countertop. Inside was one of the most decadent, satisfying cupcakes in the world, Paisley’s devil’s food chocolate lava cake. She put it on a plate and slid it into the microwave. While it warmed, she got a glass of milk and a fork. Hershey had followed her downstairs and sat at her feet, watching expectantly.
“No way,” she told him. “Chocolate is dangerous for dogs.”
The bell dinged, and she took out the cupcake, her mouth watering at the sight of melted chocolate bubbling up from the middle and flowing down the sides of the pastry. Just as she was about to take a bite, something brushed against the window screen, and Hershey barked.
He ran over and stood with his front paws on the windowsill, looking outside. Sarah switched on the outside lights and looked around, but just like last time, nothing moved. Hershey lost interest, dropped back onto all fours, and went over to sniff around the island for crumbs. It was probably just a big moth.
Determined not to be a scaredy-cat, Sarah switched off the lights and took her cupcake and milk upstairs. But before she left the kitchen, she double-checked the back door to make sure it was bolted securely.
No sense in inviting trouble, she thought. Even if it’s imaginary.