“Thanks for coming in, Elijah.” The man that just interviewed me for the job of my dreams offers me his hand. “I look forward to working with you. I think you’ll fit in perfectly.”
“Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Dunham.” I clasp his hand firmly before dropping it and reaching for my briefcase. “It will be an honor to work with you.”
“It worked out well that I was in town while you were free. A twist of fate.” He chuckles, and I nod in agreement. “I’ll be in touch with more details.”
“Sounds fantastic. I’ll see myself out. I’m sure you have work to do.” After carefully closing the office door behind me, I resist the urge to fist pump in public, maintaining my composure as I head down the hall of the convention center and out the front doors. It’s almost dinnertime, so the boardwalk is filling with tourists.
Living at the beach is supposed to be fun, but most of the time it’s just aggravating. In addition to my new position, that’s another reason to be excited about moving. It’s only an hour away, but it’s far enough that I’ll be free of the traffic and crowds. I will miss the restaurants and the ocean itself, but it’ll be a great day trip. My Uber is waiting on me at the curb, so I settle in for the drive back to my apartment.
In the mood to celebrate, I swipe open the Flingshot app. What’s better than a no-strings-attached night of fun? One other small perk of living in a tourist hotspot? Women that are looking for the same. Sure, you come across some that want to stay in touch, but I’m always up front from the beginning.
Before my interview, I’d scrolled through my prospects, so a few matches and messages pop up right away, but after glancing through them, I’m unimpressed. My issue is my craving for more than physical intrigue. While attraction is certainly important, there are several types, and an intellectual connection is the most important foreplay to me.
Her name catches my eye first. Remy. Not one I’ve come across before, and her profile picture takes my breath away. Waist-length blonde waves, the ends resting on her hips as they barely peek out of the cutouts in her one-piece swimsuit. More noticeable than her beauty, though, is the book beside her on the beach chair. It looks like a well-read copy of Jane Eyre. I swipe ‘yes’ immediately after that, and the notification that we’ve matched startles me.
We text back and forth for a few minutes, and when her next reply comes through, it stops me in my tracks.
Remy: Want to meet up tonight?
Fuck, of course I do. My hands ache to wrap themselves around those milky white hips. To tangle in her tresses and become lost in her. Then I’ll make her breakfast, and we’ll talk about the book in her profile picture.
There’s only one thing holding me back.
She’s twenty-three.
My fingers hesitate for a moment over the keys, but not for long.
I text her the address to a restaurant on the boardwalk before tapping the driver’s shoulder. He removes his headphones, catching my eye in the mirror.
“Mind dropping me off at Cuff’s? I’ve had a change of plans for the night.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Krane.”