Page 15 of More, Daddy

Your profile has matched with another profile! Click the link below to see who has messaged you on LoveScope.

With love and potential,

The LoveScope Cupids

I hover over the link,staring at it in all of its unclicked, mysterious glory.Do I care if I matched with someone on a normal dating site?I scratch at the back of my head, still staring at my cursor on the link.

Let’s say she’s amazing. I’d still have to date and get to know her for some months before even mentioning what Iwant in the bedroom. And then if she says no? It’s all for nothing.

Here, even though I don’tknowwhoDaddysGirlis, I have someone who knows what I like, knows what makes me tick, and wants the same thing.

But what if in person we aren’t compatible?

I lick my lips and ultimately click the link, watching with hopeful, baited breath as the screen loads the profile who has matched willingly with mine.

Mary Grace Eckhardt.

I say the name aloud. “Mary Grace.” Then, I scroll to her photo, forgoing her biography because it doesn’t matter if she literally likes every single thing that I like, if I’m not attracted to her, it’s meaningless.

She’s pretty. Freckles. Glasses. Brown hair. No makeup. Looks like she re-shelves books for a living.

This woman, Mary Grace, saw my photo and said yes.

My mouse hovers over the button reading “Accept Match,” but I can’t bring myself to click it. Instead, I close the email, feeling like I somehow betrayedDaddysGirlby even looking.

But we’re just getting to know each other still, and all I did was consider a date. There’s no crime against that.

Yet when I click back toVeiled,DaddysGirlis offline.

That night, I really don’t sleep a wink.

CHAPTER

FOUR

This isthe place I hate being stuck the most.

My head.

Seriously. Put me in an elevator with a crying baby, a group of high school boys who have yet to discover antiperspirant, and an open clamshell of seafood (sea creatures belong in the sea, thank you very fucking much) and I’d be doing a million times better than I am now.

Trapped.

Alone.

In my fucking head.

She couldn’t have known that I clicked awayto another dating email, so the idea thatDaddysGirlgot upset with me and stormed offline? It’s insane. Ridiculous.

Illogical, even.

She has no clue why I didn’t type in our chat for a minute. And it was just one minute. We’ve had lulls in our conversations before. I know we have. So the idea that she knew I was looking at another woman’s profile and got offline is insane.

Why can’t I shake it, then? Why does it feel like that’sexactlywhat happened?

She can’t see your screen, I remind myself for the hundredth time this morning as I towel off in my bathroom. Yeah, I’m already tired of myself and it’s not even seven thirty. I have a whole entire damn day of being in my overworked brain.

Maybe something came up?