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R OWAN

After my disastrous date with Frank, I had good intentions to delete the Friends to Lovers app, but when a message appeared from a new profile, I couldn’t resist opening it.

The laundry list of nicknames Adam came up with made me chuckle, which had me responding immediately.

I’m glad I did. In the two weeks since, we’ve talked almost every day. When he told me the nickname he came up with for me, I nearly melted.

Wildflower.

So sweet. So simple. So perfect. And he doesn’t even know me.

I started calling him Charming, which he is.

If I hadn’t rushed into meeting Frank, I’d be more inclined to meet Adam, but the admin of Friends to Lovers recommends establishing a consistent line of correspondence for at least four weeks before meeting.

This time, I plan on following the suggestion. Honestly, I’m worried Adam won’t be as I imagine him to be, so I’m holding out as long as possible.

We’ve stayed away from questions that would reveal too much about our identities. We avoid the cliché topics of work and family and stick to our opinions on pop culture, food, and music.

The past few nights he’s been flirting and dropping innuendos, which I don’t mind. There aren’t any messages from him during the day, which is a good thing, or I’d have even more trouble concentrating at work.

It’s bad enough that the first thing I do when I leave the office is check the app. Some days he sends a message around four, but mostly we chat at night.

While it’s fun chatting with him live, knowing he was thinking about me during the day makes me feel...wanted. Desired.

I’m no sex goddess like Kendall, and I’ve never had a man fall for me as hard as Walker fell for Riley, but Adam has potential. There’s no way he’s this sweet and funny and charming in real life.

But a girl can dream.

I change in the locker room at my favorite Pilates studio and stretch my body to uncomfortable limits on the reformer for a grueling sixty-minute class. Since my refrigerator is lacking ingredients to assemble the simplest of meals, I stop at the store on the way home, and it’s almost seven-thirty by the time I’m sitting at my counter eating my homemade chicken stir fry.

For the past hour, my phone has lit up with messages from the app. Somehow I’ve maintained some semblance of self-control and manage to wait until I’ve eaten half my dinner before reading his messages.

Adam86: I can’t stop thinking about you.

Adam86: I imagine what your laugh sounds like. What your signature scent is. The color of your hair.

Adam86: Did you have a good day?

Adam86: Shit. I’m bordering on stalking now, aren’t I? You mentioned not being able to message during the day. I had a few hours in between work stuff and couldn’t stop thinking about you so...anyway. Hopefully we’ll talk soon. Sincerely, NOT your obsessed stalker fan, Adam86. Unless you find my verbal diarrhea charming, then, yes, all these messages are from me.

Adam86: Fuck. I can’t believe I typed the word diarrhea. I can’t even say it was an accident because I spelled it wrong and accepted the spell check correction. If you need to rescind the Charming nickname, I understand.

My cheeks hurt from smiling while reading his messages. I love how open and honest he is with his thoughts. There’s no filter, and I appreciate it. Most men treat me like I’m made of glass and, for whatever reason, don’t often swear around me.

I’m no fainting maiden. Heck, my two best friends have mouths like sailors. But since I work with kids, I need to keep my vocabulary clean.

Although, you could say the same about Kendall. As a kindergarten teacher, she manages to turn off her potty mouth when she’s at school.

Elizabeth77: Sorry for the late reply. Busy day at work, then I had Pilates and grocery shopping. I just got home a few minutes ago and am eating dinner.

I only manage one bite of dinner before he replies

Adam86: What’s on the menu tonight?

Elizabeth77: Stir fry.

Adam86: Yum. Where’s your favorite place to order?

Elizabeth77: When I have the funds, Lotus Flower is my favorite. Tonight’s dinner is brought to me by the bag of vegetables I brought home, my frying pan, and a blend of spices from my cabinet.

Adam86: You cook?

Elizabeth77: *sigh* typical man. I believe we covered this last week when you sent me a 42 page list of your favorite foods.

Adam86: Um. Exaggerate much? It was no longer than 40 pages. 41 tops. And what can I say? I love food. And you said food is your love language. I’d say we’re a match made in heaven.

Elizabeth77: Or the kitchen.

Adam86: Even better since I have no experience in heaven.

Elizabeth77: A bad boy, are you?

Adam86: Is that what you’re looking for?

My cheeks flush at his question. Am I attracted to bad boys? No, not really. I like a man who respects me, treats me like a lady, but I also want one who will make me see stars. Who will ravish me like his life depends on it.

It could be the books I read, or the stories Riley and Kendall tell me about how passionate Nash and Walker are, which is really hard to imagine since they’re perfect gentlemen in front of me.

Nash has that brooding, sexy, grumpy single dad thing going, but according to Kendall, he’s a romantic at heart. He’s total mush when it comes to his daughter and Kendall.

I want that too. Someone who is obsessed with me but not in a creepy way. Adam joked about stalking me, but I don’t get that vibe from him. Like he said, he has verbal diarrhea and spits out whatever is on his mind.

Adam86: Lizzie? Did I lose you there? It was the diarrhea, wasn’t it? Total turn off. Granted, if you said it was a turn on, I might have second thoughts on you being the woman of my dreams.

Elizabeth77: Woman of your dreams? Laying it on pretty thick, Charming.

Adam86: I speak from the heart, Lizzie Boo.

Elizabeth77: We’ve progressed to Lizzie Boo as a pet name?

Adam86: Too soon? Should I cut myself off?

Elizabeth77: Are you drinking?

Adam86: No. I’m traveling for work. Bored on a plane.

And there it is. The end of what could be. I don’t want a long-distance relationship or a man who is away all the time. Call me selfish, but I want my partner to have dinner with me every night, to co-parent when the time comes, to cuddle with me at night and wake up next to me each morning.

We haven’t talked about our jobs, but maybe now’s the time.

Elizabeth77: What do you do for work?

A few minutes pass before he responds.

Adam86: Every day is different.

Elizabeth77: Do you travel a lot?

Adam86: Only a few times a month.

Only. To him, that may not be a lot, but to me it is. I don’t want to end our online friendship, so I don’t tell him that this makes him unable to check off the boxes for what I’m looking for.

But I like talking with him. He’s safe. Maybe Adam is the perfect person to share my secrets with. He’ll never learn my identity if I don’t tell him.

I’m not a risk taker, but the anonymity gives me the courage to ask him questions I’ve never asked a man before. Or even shared with my girlfriends.

Elizabeth77: What’s your favorite position?

Adam86: Like offense or defense?

Figures he goes to sports instead of sex. I need to talk to a man who can teach me to be more comfortable talking about sex.

Elizabeth 77: With a woman.

Adam86: Like sex?

Elizabeth77: Are you a virgin? No judgment if you are. I think that’s sweet.

Adam86: Fuck no. I’m not a virgin. Did you get hacked? Is this still my sweet Wildflower asking me about sexual positions?

Elizabeth 77: Yes, Mr. Charming. It’s still me. I figured we progressed to the next level of getting to know each other.

I’m filled with guilt at leading him on, but he’ll never learn who I am.

Adam86: Well, hell. You have me hard and not a thing I can do about it.

Elizabeth77: You don’t want to...touch yourself?

My face burns with embarrassment. How the heck did I go from asking about his favorite position to asking him to jerk off while we text. Or is this what’s called sexting?

Adam86: Wildflower. My dick stretching out the front of my sweats. If I wasn’t sitting on an airplane with one of my best friends snoring next to me, I’d be stroking myself to your every word.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. This is so not where I expected our conversation to go. But I’m already this far into my rabbit hole...

Elizabeth77: Sorry. I shouldn’t have–

His message comes through mid-sentence.

Adam86: Right now, I imagine you sitting on my lap, straddling my thighs.

Elizabeth77: That’s your favorite position?

Adam86: Any position where I can see you is my favorite.

Elizabeth77: Adam, but you don’t even know what I look like. I could be a wrinkly, wart-faced witchy looking old lady pretending to be a thirty-one-year-old nurse.

Adam86: Are you a thirty-one-year-old nurse? The rest isn’t true, I’m sure, and irrelevant. I’ll take you straddling my lap regardless.

Elizabeth77: I’ve never been on top before.

Adam86: Are you a virgin?

Elizabeth77: No, but I’ve never...

I stop typing, unsure how much to admit to this stranger. My face burns, my heart is ready to beat its way out of my chest, I’m mortified and embarrassed to be having this conversation, but I feel safe. Protected by the computer and my fake name.

I may have accidentally let my age and occupation slip, but there are thousands of nurses in Boston.

More than anything, I want to feel liberated. I want to be sexually satisfied, and while I may never have the confidence to speak my desires to my partner, I can voice them here to a stranger.

Elizabeth77: My past boyfriends have all assumed I prefer vanilla to chocolate.

Adam86: Just to be clear, we’re not talking about ice cream, are we?

Elizabeth77: No, we’re not.

Adam86: What is it you want, Elizabeth?

Elizabeth77: I want to get railed so hard I forget my name and can’t walk for two days.

Elizabeth77: I want a guy to talk dirty to me. To say wicked things and manhandle me. I don’t think I want to be whipped or anything sadistic, but I want raw, animal, feral chemistry with a guy. I’ve never experienced that before.

Adam86: fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Adam86: You’re killing me. I think I came in my sweats. Fuck. I already wanted you. Now? Now I want to make your dreams come true and destroy your pussy.

Adam86: Why has no man ever done this to you before?

Elizabeth77: Not to turn you off or anything, but I’m often compared to the girl next door. I guess I throw off sweet and innocent vibes. And, I mean, I am sweet and innocent. I’m genuinely a nice person, but I want to experience raw passion at least once in my life.

Adam86: And you’ve never told any past boyfriends this? Asked them to rail you beyond repair?

Elizabeth77: No. I’ve never felt that sexual need with anyone before.

Adam86: Why are you telling me? Not that I mind. Hell, you can share your wildest sexual fantasies with me morning, noon, and night. I’ll never tire of it.

Elizabeth77: It’s no one’s fault but my own. I don’t like confrontation and would be mortified if a guy rejected me, or worse, if he tried to make my fantasies come true but couldn’t live up to the part.

Adam86: You’ve been dating the wrong men.

Elizabeth77: I know. I’m attracted to nice guys, and nice guys don’t do the dirty deeds I want done to me.

Adam86: I can be nice and dirty. I can be anything you want me to be.