Page 12

Chapter 11

Carina

“S o, what do you think?” I ask, tugging my oversized sweater down over my hips like it’ll somehow transform into a magical fashion statement if I stretch it hard enough.

Silence.

Dina frowns. MJ crinkles her nose.

Sigh.

I know that look.

That’s the ‘Oh, honey… no’ look.

It’s bad. I look frumpy as hell.

Dina claps her hands together like she’s just decided my entire fate.

“Try the black dress. The one you wore for New Year’s Eve two years ago.”

Before I can protest, she’s already sprinting to my closet like a woman on a mission.

Oh. She means that dress.

The one that’s super tight.

The one that hugs every inch of my body.

The one that, once upon a time, I would’ve worn without a second thought before I dated Edgar the Asshole and let his snide little comments warp my self-image.

“Here it is!” Dina crows, spinning around with the dress in hand, mischief sparkling in her eyes.

I hesitate, fingers brushing against the tag, already bracing myself for disappointment.

“I’ve gained a little weight since the last time I wore this.”

“Yeah.” MJ shrugs. “All in your tits. I don’t think your date will mind, Car.”

I roll my eyes so hard I might sprain something, but there’s no use arguing when she’s not wrong.

I tend to gain most of my weight in my boobs and belly.

As long as it is boobs over belly, I am fine with that.

Thank you, Aunt Janet.

Without another word, I grab the dress and retreat into my room.

I change fast— before I can overthink it —before I can talk myself out of it. No mirror.

No self-critique. Just zip and go.

Taking a deep breath— as deep as this dress will allow —I step out.

Silence reigns for a few seconds.

“ Wowza. Really, Car, you look amazing,” MJ says, her eyes actually misting.

Like I’m her child, heading off to prom.

Dina lets out a low whistle, eyes twinkling.

“Hubba hubba! We won’t wait up for you tonight.”

“ Oh my gah! ” I groan, snorting. “I’m not going home with him.”

Because, obviously .

I mean, I’m not a one-night-stand kind of girl.

Even if the guy was willing, who says I’d even want to?

Not that most guys are interested in me like that anyway.

The few dates I’ve been on since Edgar the Asshole have been… seriously lackluster .

Like lukewarm oatmeal levels of boring.

I don’t know if it’s men in general who’ve changed, or if the whole swipe-right-to-fuck culture has killed actual dating.

Either way, I’m not looking for a quick lay.

I’m not looking for anything, actually.

I mean, I’m too busy.

I have the pizzeria. MJ and Dina. I have bills to juggle.

I don’t even have time for this date.

But Dina had looked so hopeful when she told me about the app.

And MJ, ever the skeptic, actually agreed.

So here I am.

Dressed up. Checking my Uber driver’s status.

MJ leans over, peering at my phone. “So, you’re meeting him at the restaurant, right? The meat place?”

“Yeah. It’s a Brazilian rodízio restaurant,” I tell them, quickly sending the location so they have it. Just in case .

Dina snatches my phone, zooming in on the menu. “Ooooh. That looks amazing.”

I nod. It does.

But my mind isn’t focused on getting my meat on—not in the culinary sense, anyway.

Instead, it’s spinning over the mystery man I’m about to meet.

Who is he?

What does he look like?

Is he normal?

Please, for the love of carbs, let him be normal.

Luckily, thanks to Dina’s incognito settings, neither of us has any idea what the other actually looks like.

No name, no face—just two mystery users thrown together by an algorithm and fate

My profile? CC2319 .

CC for my initials. 2319 because—well, let’s just say my love for a certain Disney movie runs deep.

What can I say? I’ve always had a soft spot for furry monsters.

And my date? HV1234.

HV—no idea. 1234 seems pretty literal. And unimaginative.

I do not have high hopes.

Briefly, my mind flits to my elusive neighbor —if you can even call him that.

Horace .

He doesn’t technically live near me, just above the pizzeria. But it’s not like he’s ever around.

He came in once —fixed our website like some kind of tech wizard —then vanished.

Hasn’t been back.

Hasn’t even sampled our pizza again, as far as I know. Of course, there is a corporate account that has the same last name, but that might be a coincidence.

I haven’t had the time to research it just yet.

Oh, Horace, why haven’t you come back?

The thought of what might’ve been makes something twist in my chest, but I shove it aside.

Why am I even thinking about him?

There is no might’ve been .

I don’t know him.

I don’t think about him.

I don’t wonder where he is or why he reminds me of a teddy bear— wait, what?

I shake my head, trying to dislodge that ridiculous thought before it takes root.

Focus, Carina

Tonight is about HV1234 .

Not my mysterious, broody, definitely-not-into-Pizza-Girls upstairs neighbor.

I knock on wood, literally, and tell myself I’m not about to walk into something awful.

It’s just a date.

Just dinner.

What could go wrong?