👀 📚ᔕᑎᗴᗩ𝕂 ℙᗴᗴ𝕂📚 👀 for The Assignment by Penelope Ward. ᖇᗴᒪᗴᗩᔕiᑎǥ ᗝᑎ February 28th. 𝒫𝓇𝑒-𝑜𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝑜𝓅𝓎 𝓉𝑜𝒹𝒶𝓎! @PenelopeAuthor @GiveMeBooksPR @PenelopeWardAuthor @GiveMeBooksPR

 

 

 

 

 

 

I hadn’t gone out with a man in ages, and I needed to get back in the game before I shriveled up. I laughed to myself. If only these dating app boys could see me in this mask and robe.

I sipped my tea and began to alternate scrolling with shoveling unsweetened cacao nibs into my mouth.

After several minutes of swiping through, I suddenly stopped chewing at the sight of a familiar pair of pearly whites.

Staring me in the face was none other than Troy Serrano.

I tossed my phone as if it were infected with a contagious virus.

A few seconds later, I picked it back up and stared at his profile picture. I wouldn’t have imagined Troy needed to use a dating app, but being new to town again, maybe he felt like it was the easiest way to meet people. Of course, the app had sent him my way in part because we were geographically close to each other. I wanted to block him, but I wasn’t sure exactly how to do that. I’d never had to block anyone from seeing my profile before. But there was no way I wanted him to notice me on here. If he’d come up as an option for me, surely the app would present me to him at some point. My stomach sank. I’d figure out how to block him right after I thoroughly scrutinized his profile.

The photos he’d chosen were, of course, really good. But could he even take a bad photo with that face and f*ck-me hair? In one, he wore a form-fitting black sweater and leaned up against a brick wall. In another, he held up a fish he’d caught, with his chiseled abs on display.

Then I scrolled down to the section where you were supposed to describe yourself. Whereas most men write a simple paragraph, Troy had written an obituary.

 

 

My phone vibrated, scaring the living hell out of me. It was a text from Jasmine, making sure I’d gotten home okay. But then the screen changed. Wait, what? When my hand jerked, I’d accidentally swiped right on Troy’s profile. I wouldn’t have even realized this were it not for the words: It’s a match!

If we matched, that meant one thing: Troy had previously swiped right on me. Ugh! How long had he known I was on here?

I threw the phone again, as if it were infected with yet another dangerous virus.

For about a minute, I just sat in a panic, my hands wrapped around my face.

Then I picked up the phone to try to undo the action. But before I could find the information, a notification popped up. Troy had sent me a direct message through the app.

My heart pounded in my chest. I clicked on it.

 

 

I couldn’t type fast enough.

 

 

My pulse raced as the little dots moved around.

 

 

I realized how ridiculous that sounded. But it was the damn truth! Figures the stupidest thing ever would happen to me, and I’d never be able to convince him it was true.

 

 

 

I blew a frustrated breath toward my forehead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I looked up and screamed at the ceiling. My voice echoed throughout the house.

 

 

 

I refused to acknowledge the chill that ran down my spine at his backhanded compliment. Instead, I typed again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I cackled and typed.