Page 17 of Desserts for Stressed People

How would last night have been if I said yes to his proposition to meet up? We would have eaten brownies together, and...well, maybe I would have seen him in his birthday suit. I bet it’s the suit that fits him best.

“Would you like me to lower the AC?”

I jerk my head to look up at the driver. The sound of my teeth clattering probably gave me away. “If it isn’t too much trouble.”

He presses a few buttons on the car dashboard. When I look back at the phone, the screen’s off, and I tap on it to unlock it. There’s a text on RadaR.

A text from Shane.

“Shit!” I shout, my voice etched with surprise as the phone slips out of my hands and falls somewhere around my feet. After a questioning look from the driver, I smile apologetically. “Sorry—my hand cramped.”

Grabbing my phone, I stare at the RadaR notification with wide eyes. My heart is already racing. When he didn’t answer my text this morning, I thought little of it. I was glad, even. It made things easier for me. But now that he has, there’s that same jittery feeling as last night, making every inch of my skin tickle and my heart rate go through the roof.

Shane:

I figured. But you left me on read, so you owe me one. #NevaehrBreakAPromise

Bringing the phone to my chest, I close my eyes as I smile. I can’t. I can’t answer, but most importantly, I can’t crush on this guy. I’m notyet, but the way my stomach twists at seeing his text isn’t okay. Shane thinks I’m someone called Nevaeh and I look like Olivia. Neither thing is true, so...I can’t.

“Is here okay?”

“Yes, it’s perfect,” I lie as I notice the park to my left. My apartment is a couple of blocks down the road and I’m wearing the most uncomfortable heels, but the driver already thinks I’m crazy, and although he turned off the AC, the car is so cold my nipples could probably cut glass. “Keep the change,” I say with a grin as I hand him some cash, open the door and step onto the sidewalk.

On the plus side, walking for a few minutes means I get to drool over Shane for a little longer, and delaying seeing Alex isn’t bad either. I stroll down the road, taking as much time as possible. My hair’s already sticking to my face, and I’m regretting the pantyhose I wore this morning more than my failed relationship. But I never take walks anymore, and it’s nice to be out. Walking is comforting. Only the repetition of the same movement, again and again, and my paced breathing to keep me company.

Until my phone vibrates with another message from Shane.

Shane:

Can you guess what I’m doing tonight?

I can try. He’s probably going to eat my favorite food, drink my favorite wine, and cozy up on the couch with cheese-flavored chips, the best kind.

With a half-hearted chuckle, I come to a halt. What if karma is playing a joke on me? I decided to catfish my boyfriend, and my punishment is to meet someone great, and he’s out of reach.

Because there’s just no way I could ever tell Shane I’m catfishing him—it’d be way too humiliating.

When my phone vibrates again, it’s a picture, and I can’t resist. Groaning, I tap on the notification, and I wish I could say that there’s a genuine struggle within me, but it’d be a lie. I’m that fickle.

As the butterfly mosh pit grows in my stomach, I tap on the image.

My heart drops, and this time, it’s with disappointment. It’s not a picture of him. There’s a black marble counter and a plethora of ingredients on it. Flour, eggs, chocolate chips, something that looks like vanilla. He’s baking. That’s what he’s doing tonight. Shane-the-baker is baking.

I imagine him in an apron, blue as the suit he’s wearing in his profile picture, and the lazy smile of yesterday’s photo on his lips. Damn, I wish I could open it. I search online,Do RadaR users see it when you screenshot their pictures?, and the answer is disappointing. It pulls my lips into a frown, because his other pictures are for everyone to see. That one’s only mine, and I can’t see it again.

I go back to the chat before he reminds me that I promised not to leave him on read, thinking hard.

Nevaeh:

Brownies?

Shane:

Nope. No cocoa.

I tap on the picture again. I’ve learned the hard way that he’ll get a notification about it, but hey, we’re playing a game. Studying the ingredients, I consider the possibilities.

Nevaeh: