One date. Wrong match.
When the raven-haired beauty popped up on my phone as a match, I had to have her. She became a fast obsession, one I couldn't get out of my head. Our first date was a disaster. But when it came to sex, we made sense. So, we came up with an arrangement--sex with no strings attached.
Everything was working out until she became my new employee. I was supposed to train her, show her the ropes. But she made it impossible to stay away. The closer we worked, the more I realized maybe we were the perfect match. She just didn't know it yet.
SLOAN
My cell phone dings with another match. I slide my finger along the screen to open the app and stare at Ava’s picture. Long black hair, denim-colored eyes, pale skin, and nice, plump lips stare back at me. She’s a twenty-six-year-old student from New York who recently relocated to Philadelphia.
Her profile ends with a line that makes me laugh. “If you’re looking for a good time, call 867-5309.” Like the song by Tommy Tutone. How clever. That wouldn’t work on everyone, but it sure does with me. Ava is not only beautiful and smart, she’s also funny. I like her.
After I click the button to verify our match, it seems like hours before my phone dings again with Match accepted. I suck in a deep breath, thinking of something interesting to say. Nothing comes to mind.
Me: Hey! Nice profile. I tried to call the number, but it was busy.
I clutch the phone in my hand and wait, watching as the chat bubble pops up. She’s typing. Thirty seconds later a message appears.
Ava: The second I hang up with one guy another calls. You wouldn’t believe all the calls I get.
Me: Funny girl.
Ava: I amuse myself.
Me: I’m entertained. Dinner this Friday?
Ava: Depends. Are you a serial killer?
Me: Only on the weekends.
Ava: I guess we should change our dinner until Monday then. Just in case.
Me: We could move it up to Thursday. I get tired after all those kills.
Ava: At least you’re not boring.
Me: Did I pass the test?
Ava: I guess. You’re a doctor, right?
Me: A surgeon. So, dinner this week?
Ava: As long as you’re not the Hannibal Lecter kind of doctor and plan to surgically remove my kidneys.
I shake my head, laughing, and type out a quick reply.
Me: You’ve got a thing for serial killers, huh?
Ava: You have no idea the kind of dates I have been on lately. A girl’s gotta have standards.
Me: Like not getting eaten.
Ava: Lol at least not in that kind of way.
Ooh, she’s dirty. I like it.
Before I can respond, another message comes through.
Ava: How about drinks? The Fountain Lounge at seven on Thursday. Dinner afterward if you’re lucky.
Me: Perfect. See you then.
Jillian Quinn is the international bestselling romance author of the Face-Off Series, the upcoming Men of Honor Series, as well as other sexy, sporty standalone romances.
Jillian loves sports, bad boys, dirty talkers, strong females, and books with plenty of heat—all of which you will find in her books. As a lover of all things bookish, she has a serious book hoarding problem and runs a blog in her free time. When she’s not reading, writing, or blogging, she’s obsessively fangirling over hockey players and can be found wherever she can catch the next hockey game.
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Jillian loves sports, bad boys, dirty talkers, strong females, and books with plenty of heat—all of which you will find in her books. As a lover of all things bookish, she has a serious book hoarding problem and runs a blog in her free time. When she’s not reading, writing, or blogging, she’s obsessively fangirling over hockey players and can be found wherever she can catch the next hockey game.
Web Twitter Goodreads Facebook Instagram
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