Every Sweet Regret (Orchid Valley 2)

Dean sighs and shakes his head.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” I use the hem of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my forehead. The heat is making me fucking irritable today. “Tell me.”

“No name, no real-life picture, and, let me guess, no personal details?” Dean asks.

I shrug. “I mean, we’ve been talking. She hasn’t been hiding anything.”

“How do you know you’re not being catfished?”

“What?” I snap. Why do they assume that’s what’s happening here? But hell. Honestly, I’m embarrassed. I should’ve known a cartoon avatar was a red flag, but I’m so fucking bad at this dating thing that it didn’t cross my mind.

Smithy shoves his phone back into his pocket. “Catfished. It’s when you fall in love with a gorgeous chick online but it actually turns out to be a middle-aged sociopath who lives in his mom’s basement and sells Canadian pharmaceuticals on the dark web.”

Dean narrows his eyes at Smithy. “Weirdly specific example, as always.”

“That happened to Tom Brady once—before Giselle. He fell hard for this chick online, talked about her constantly, sent her extravagant gifts. Turns out it was his great-aunt trying to swindle him.”

“That didn’t fucking happen,” Dean says. “You never even played with Brady.”

“Fuck you. I was on their practice team one season, and I watched the guy have a total meltdown when he found out he’d been sexting his aunt.”

Dean shakes his head. “Didn’t happen.”

Smithy frowns. “Or maybe it was the backup QB?”

My phone buzzes again, and I really want to look, but I’m not interested in sharing my conversation with these idiots, either.

I wait until the guys have left for lunch and I’m alone on my porch before I read the latest message from Itsy.

ItsyBitsy123: Well, now I’m jealous.Thanks to the disappearing messages feature, it takes me a minute to figure out what she’s talking about, but then I remember we were talking about “patty-cake” and laugh.

GoodHands69: Don’t be jealous. She was you. You were her.

ItsyBitsy123: I guess dreams are weird like that. But . . . if she was me, I think I need details.I stare at the screen for a long time, trying to think of some hot but not embarrassing detail to give her, but honestly, I shouldn’t be having this conversation at all. I didn’t lie. I did dream about Jessica Rabbit, but at some point in the dream, she became Stella. It feels wrong to feed one woman dirty details of a dream that also involved a different woman.

GoodHands69: Nope. Can’t do it. I’m not a sexting kind of guy, I guess. But maybe one day I’ll show you. If you want . . .

ItsyBitsy123: I’m going to hold you to that. Unless you’re going to ask me to suck you off behind the Dairy Queen . . . while your dad watches.I bark out a laugh and shake my head. The guys are totally wrong about this girl. She’s legit. I can feel it in my bones.

GoodHands69: Please tell me that didn’t really happen.

ItsyBitsy123: Oh. It did. And then I had to block him because he wouldn’t stop messaging me dick pics. And they were DEFINITELY not all the same dick. *shudder* I try not to think too much about that . . .

GoodHands69: Jesus. I’m sorry.

ItsyBitsy123: I’ve had so many bad experiences with guys lately that I’m afraid I’d punch the first one to approach me. With my luck, he’d turn out to be one of the good guys—like a pediatrician who has a great relationship with his mom, loves to read, and gets off on giving orgasms.I laugh again. I really want to meet this girl.

GoodHands69: I’m not a pediatrician, but I just so happen to tick a few of those other boxes.I debate some sort of corny emoji at the end of that for so long that by the time I hit send—no emoji—her next message is already coming through.

ItsyBitsy123: Does that last part make me sound sex-obsessed? Because I’m not . . .well, maybe I am in some people’s views. It’s all relative. I consider sex a healthy part of life, and I want it in a romantic relationship, but I also want mutual respect, understanding, and emotional connection. Am I asking too much?

ItsyBitsy123: Don’t answer that. I splurged on a therapist once, and she said I need to work on RAISING my expectations, not lowering them. This probably doesn’t surprise you at all, but that doesn’t come naturally.I grin down at my phone. From my dreams, to wanting a guy who gets off on giving orgasms, to talk about her therapist. This girl’s all over the place. She makes my head spin and . . . I like it. I haven’t had someone I could talk to so freely in a long time.

It’s ironic, really. The whole point of this app is to match people up so they can have no-strings sex. In all likelihood, the messaging function is meant for coordinating meetup spots, not heart-to-heart conversations.