My eyelids get heavy eventually and I’m about to call it quits. I scroll down a bit more and then a notification pops up on my screen.
You’ve just received a purple heart from MrRichGuy.
I frown at the notification, click on his profile, and a picture of a handsome man in a suit appears.
He has blond hair and piercing blue eyes, a strong jaw and dimpled chin. I swear whoever created his account has to be using a fake photo. Why on earth would a man of this nature—who can probably just wink at a woman and get in her panties—be on this app?
I read his username again. MrRichGuy.
This has to be fake.
I shake my head as I click on his profile and read his About section. Apparently, his name is Richie, hence the username, and he has a busy schedule which most women can’t handle and that makes it hard for him to settle down, and he’s looking for someone who can accept him and his busy life as it is. I roll my eyes and check out more of his stats.
His favorite color is blue.
His favorite artists are Lenny Kravitz and Bob Marley.
He has never been married before.
He’s thirty-two years old. Five years older than me.
He has even more photos of himself posted on his profile and I admit, he is handsome. There’s no way in hell this man is real and, if he is and has to get on a dating app to find love, maybe he some really, really big flaws. And maybe, just for the hell of it, I want to figure out what those flaws are—not to get serious or anything, I’m just a very curious person. I want to know what it is about him that would make him get on Match Me.
“Okay, Richie,” I say, sighing. “I’ll give you a purple heart too. Let’s see what you’re about.” I send off my purple heart and then I shut the screen of my phone off, turn on my side, and fall asleep.
THREE
Hannah
When I wake up, I’m surprised to see a message from MrRichGuy. My heart beats faster at the sight of it and I sit up against the headboard, the morning sun hitting me in the face.
MrRichGuy: Hey, there. Really like your profile picture. :) What’s a girl as beautiful as you doing on an app like this?
I bite a smile as I read the message. Oh, Jesus. I’m being ridiculous. He probably says this to every girl. I respond anyway.
SassyCurvyGirl: I could ask you the very same thing. Handsome guy like yourself can get any girl he wants. What’s up with that?
He responds almost immediately, which surprises me.
MrRichGuy: Not a lot of women can handle me or my workload. I’m a very busy man. I figured why cut my chances to just regular social meetings. There are plenty of other ways to meet. Not only that, but I have a certain…preference.
SassyCurvyGirl: A certain preference? As in what? Women?
MrRichGuy: Precisely.
SassyCurvyGirl: And what might that be?
MrRichGuy: I’d much rather discuss that as I get to know you. Is it okay to get to know you?
I read his message twice and then look out of my window that faces a line of trees. He’s flirting…and I can’t believe I’m liking it. Now I can see why Krys got such a thrill out of the app.
SassyCurvyGirl: Sure. You can get to know me, but you should know, I’m not your average woman. I’m full-figured and not ashamed of my body. Last thing I want is to talk to someone who would be ashamed of that.
MrRichGuy: LOL…trust me, Hannah. That’s the last thing that would stop me from getting to know you.
I giggle, then type.
SassyCurvyGirl: Okay, then, Richie. Let’s get to know each other.
FOUR
Hannah
It’s been a week now and talking to Richie almost feels natural at this point. I can’t explain it, and perhaps it’s just that high of getting to know someone who is clearly into me, but there is definitely a connection here.
Richie messages me every morning and tells me good night every night. Our conversations are both fun and distracting. I can’t get much work done at my job at the bridal boutique because I’m sneaking into one of the changing rooms to message him back.
MrRichGuy: You working at a bridal shop is putting ideas in my head…
SassyCurvyGirl: Lol stop it. We’re not that far ahead yet, mister. We haven’t even met yet.
MrRichGuy: I know, but a guy can dream. And speaking of, when will we get to meet?
He sent that message and I didn’t answer right away. I didn’t know what to say to it. Instead I waited ten minutes and then changed the subject.
SassyCurvyGirl: One day! So, what exactly do you do for a living?
MrRichGuy: Don’t want to bore you with it.
I do notice there are moments when he’s unable to respond right away, but I remember him saying he has a demanding job and is very busy. It doesn’t bother me much, but when he does get back to me, he’s always so apologetic and nice about it.
I am curious where he works though. For a moment I think maybe he’s a stripper or that he strips for hire, and maybe that’s why he can’t really keep a woman. Hey, as hot as he is, I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.
Eventually, we ditch the dating app and exchange numbers. This is when it feels a little more real and a lot more intimate.
Richie: So, sassy girl, when do you think we’ll be able to meet? I really want to see you in person. Hope that doesn’t sound too forward.
I read his message and almost choke on my water as I sit on my bed. We’re back to this again. I know I can’t avoid his question forever.
Me: Um…I don’t know. It’s only been a week and a half of us talking and all…
I feel silly. There is no real reason to not meet him. In fact, I’ve wanted to meet him in person since messaging him on the app. He’s funny and sweet and never kills the conversation.
The problem is with myself. I feel like he’ll take one look at me and realize I’m not what he’s looking for and this will all be over and I don’t know if I’d be okay with that.
Richie: Hannah, I would love to meet you soon. I have three days off next week and will be home. I’d love to take you out for dinner.
I groan. The thought of going out to dinner with a handsome guy like him makes my heart beat faster. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me, but maybe he will. I don’t want to lose this connection we’ve created so far.
Damn it! Krys was right. It’s so easy to get sucked into talking to a guy from an app. I can see her now, laughing and singing the words “I told you so!” as I explain my hesitation about the date to her.
Me: Let me think about it. Give me 24 hours.
Richie: 24 hours it is.
I slide into my shoes and leave my apartment, hopping into my car and driving the fifteen minutes it takes to get to Krys’ bakery downtown.