Page 51 of Wood Riddance
“Lemme see,” I said, holding out a hand.
“Fuck off and get out of my office.”
“Come on,” I teased. “We both know you have a bad picker. Let me see what’s out there.”
She hesitated for a second, which gave me an opening to grab her phone. I was a big guy, but my reflexes were still quick.
“Asshole,” she cursed, but she was smiling. Sometimes I thought she liked this game of cat and mouse as much as I did.
It was only a matter of time before she threw something at me or kicked my ass, so I’d enjoy it while it lasted. I studied the app on her phone. One I’d never heard of—LuvStruck. I clicked on her matches.
“Okay, Brad,” I said, perusing the photo of a boring-looking dude in a polo shirt.
“Likes dogs? Lame.”
“Dogs are great,” Adele protested, sitting up in her chair.
“I agree with you,” I said, looking up from the device. “But is that really worth putting on a profile? It’s like saying you like sunlight or pizza. Duh. Boring.”
I kept scrolling. It was like slowing down to pass by a car wreck. It was gross and voyeuristic, but I couldn’t contain my compulsion to know exactly who Adele was talking to. If I had any sense, I’d delete the apps off her phone, but instead, I dug deeper.
“And this joker?” I held the phone up so she could see the photo. “Who does he think he’s fooling with that comb-over?”
She tried to snatch it from my hand, but I lifted it above my head and out of her reach. It was one of the many advantages of my height. “Don’t be a dick. Not everyone has great hair like you do.”
“True, but if a dude’s bald, he should be proud of it. Rock that shit. This”—I wiggled the phone in the air—“screams insecure. And he says he’ssearching for his soulmate?” I stuck out my tongue and pretended to gag. “Probably a coercive narcissist. I bet he love-bombs women and then discards them when he gets bored.”
I had met too many guys like this. Who manipulated women’s emotions to get what they wanted. They craved adoration, and they’d cross any boundary to get it.
Was I perhaps reading too far into Adele’s potential dates? Abso-fucking-lutely. But I was running with it full steam ahead, and there was no way I was putting on the brakes. I’d disqualify every single jerk who had ever even considered signing up for LuvStruck. There was no way she was going out with any of these guys. Or any guy, for that matter.
“How do you even know this stuff?” she asked, wearing a thoughtful expression that held just a hint of confusion.
I gave her a wink. “You’re not the only one who’s been to therapy, She-Ra. And no, you’re not getting the phone back.” I kept scrolling, hitting the thumbs-down icon for every single match. I wanted them all gone. If she opened the app and found she had no matches, maybe she’d notice the guy sitting in front of her damn face.
“No way for this guy,” I said, looking at an average-looking guy wearing medical scrubs.
“Why?”
“He’s a veterinarian.”
“What’s wrong with vets?”
I dipped my chin and gave her a look. “He murders animals for a living. Sweet. No. Probably a sociopath.”
“You are not well.”
“Not denying it.”
I scanned the profiles of every bland, boring dude in a hundred-mile radius, feeling both overwhelmingly jealous and a bit cocky. Because this was the competition. Sure, there was the wholemy dad is a murdererthing. And my stagnant career, I supposed. But I could compete. I’d just have to convince her to consider me.
“Wait.” I held up a finger. “What’s this icon? Have you been messaging with any of these guys?” I clicked on the mailbox icon, and sure enough, some dumbass was shooting his shot with Adele.
I clicked on the profile option. “Dane,” I said, almost gagging on the name. What the fuck kind of name was that? “Looks like he owns an insurance company and enjoys skiing in his spare time.”
Her eyes turned murderous, and she locked her jaw tight.Oh shit. Now I’d hit a nerve. “He seems nice,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest in a clear attempt to convince herself that this guy was even close to good enough.
“So that’s what you’re into? The corporate type.” Saying it made my stomach clench. Why was I doing this to myself? It was time for me to give this woman her phone back and exit the room. This was not going to help my unhealthy obsession with her.
