Chapter 25

HockeyDude12 and I talked straight through the night and into the early hours of the morning. I didn’t even get to bed until four o’clock. Lily made certain to berate me for waking her up so early.

For the next week, HockeyDude12 and I conversed every day. We talked about everything—our hopes, our dreams, our fears. I had never had such deep conversations with a man before, not even Bob.

I told him about my divorce and my pledge to donate forty million dollars of my divorce settlement to an orphanage. He didn’t ask me why. He just said that it was the most noble thing he had ever heard.

He told me about coaching children in hockey, many years ago. I asked him if he played hockey or coached anymore, but he said that chapter of his life was behind him. He coached someone at a gym, he said, but left it at that.

I told him about the sexual harassment at work. He took a long time to reply, long enough that I thought he would be mad at me for it happening. When his reply finally came through, it said that it was taking everything in him to not hunt John down and strangle him for such disrespect.

He told me about his own divorce—harsh—and how his crazy ex wouldn’t leave him alone. I felt bad for him and wished I could help him. Then I thought of one way I could help him, but it made me blush that I even thought of making such a remark to him.

Then our conversations took a deeper turn—a more passionate turn. Innuendos popped up. Emojis of eggplants and peeled bananas.

I almost couldn’t re-read the messages from everything that I said to him, all the jokes that we made to each other and suggestive comments that we made, and yet I found myself doing so again. And again. And again.

On that seventh night after we started messaging each other, as I lay there waiting for him to respond to my latest message, I realized something: this man was my soul mate.

I could forget about Bob, about Barnett—HockeyDude12, whoever he really was, was my soul mate.

I grinned like a schoolgirl who just got asked to prom. Then it hit me: I didn’t have much time left. My grin disappeared.

If this man truly was my soul mate, I needed to see him in real life, now. Lily was right; you only live once. I wasn’t going to live what was left of my life wondering what would have happened if I had just met my soul mate off-screen.

I watched as the notification for HockeyDude12’s reply popped up, but I didn’t pay any attention to what it said. Instead, I immediately began typing before I lost my nerve.

I know you’re always busy, but any chance we can meet up some time?

He responded after less than a minute, Oh? You want to take me somewhere, hot stuff?

I smirked. I was hoping to have an unforgettable night with you.

An “unforgettable night”? Well, I can’t miss that. When and where?

I gave him the address of a local bar—the same bar that Bob took his new girlfriend to—and told him to meet me there tomorrow at nine.

He replied, Sure thing. I’ll always make time for you.

“I’ll always make time for you.” My heart fluttered.

• * *

“He is going to love you in this!” Lily squealed. She pulled out a black halter top dress that, just a few weeks earlier, would have been a couple sizes too small for me.

“Please tell me you’ve got a pair of flats to go with that.”

“Girl, this is a date. You’re going with either heels or platforms. No discussion.”

I groaned as I struggled into the dress.

“It’s hardly a date—”

“You’re going out with a guy that you’ve been chatting up on a dating app. It’s a date.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Fine, it’s a date. But do I really need to kill my feet and back for it?”

“You wear heels all the time for work. Why resist them now?”

“It doesn’t mean that I have to like them.”

“Not even these?”

Lily took out a pair of black five-inch, open-toed heels. Damn, they were cute.

“Okay, fine. I’ll wear them.”

“Of course you will.”

As I slipped on the shoes, Lily dug out some makeup kits.

“What do you want for your hair and makeup?”

“Let’s just do a high ponytail, and I’ll just do some natural makeup, maybe with a smokey eye.”

“Ooohhh, getting fancy,” Lily said with a little wiggle-dance. “This HockeyDude12 must be really special.”

I sighed as I pulled my hair into a high ponytail, and not just from the slight pain of the tugging.

“Yeah, he really is.”

“What if he turns out to be, like, a total dog?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know—” she leaned in as if telling me a secret— “UGLY?”

I laughed and started to apply my foundation.

“Honestly, I don’t think that will matter.”

“So, no matter what he looks like, it won’t matter?”

“Nope. I think that’s one of the points of not using our pics on Soul M8s, to like the person for who they are, instead of their looks. It’s a bit of genius, really.”

“Uh-huh. This coming from the person who thought it was a huge red flag.”

I glanced over to see that Lily was smirking, as though she had just won some sort of argument between us.

“Look, I still it’s a big security concern that they need to address, but in the end, it could work out for the better.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, if you don’t know what he looks like, then how will you know it’s him?”

“Red rose in his breast pocket.”

“Red rose? Oh, how original.” The sarcasm in Lily’s voice caused me to chuckle.

“I’ll pass your note on to him.”

“But seriously, no matter what he looks like, no matter who he turns out to be, you’ll be okay with that?”

I paused, considering Lily’s question. So long as he didn’t turn out to be a murderer or rapist, I supposed that I was okay with whoever it turned out to be. If he did, well, then I’d have bigger problems to worry about.

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I will be.”

• * *

I could have kicked Barnett for making me drive his limited edition gold Aston Martin. It drew far too much attention—in the parking lot, on the road, everywhere. Still, I had no choice while my car was in the shop, and who knew how long that was going to take?

I hoped that HockeyDude12 wouldn’t mind being seen with the woman arriving in such an ostentatious vehicle. He didn’t seem against the finer things in life, but he didn’t seem hoity-toity, either. I also wasn’t looking forward to explaining to him that another man had given me the car, but I would cross that bridge when I came to it.

I pulled into the bar’s parking lot at exactly nine o’clock. The bar had been open for two hours, and the lot was just about to reach capacity. I was forced to park near the entrance, but at least it gave me a good look inside the bar.

Before I could even unbuckle my seatbelt, I saw my man with a red rose sitting at a booth near the entrance.

Barnett.