The Introvert's Guide to Online Dating - Emma Hart Page 0,11

and when she was naked and on top of me with her nails digging into my skin and her mouth against mine like she was made just for me, I wondered if they were even remotely survivable.

She didn’t know that.

She would never know that.

She could never know that.

Neither could anyone else.

If my sister knew, she’d do everything in her power to get me and Tori together for real, and that wasn’t what this was about.

Hell, even Josh didn’t know, and he was my best friend.

And I was mostly over the fact he was fucking my sister.

Sorry.

In a relationship with my sister.

If I didn’t know he was figuring out how to propose to her, I’d probably still want to kill him.

I sat down on the sofa and peered at the laptop. Kinsley had set me up a whole damn account complete with a photo that was at least three years old. The profile was half filled out, and there were already four messages in the inbox.

That was not a good thing.

I let out a heavy breath and shut the laptop lid. I wasn’t interested in reading them, at least not right now. Maybe in a year.

I reached for my phone and opened the messages.

ME: What are you doing tonight?

As per usual, the response was swift.

TORI: Working.

ME: All night?

TORI: I’m not coming over just because you’re bored. You know where I live.

ME: I have pizza on the way. Can’t.

TORI: Then don’t. Like I said, I’m working.

ME: What are you doing?

TORI: Jesus Christ you’re like a dog with a bone, aren’t you?

ME: I’m bored.

TORI: Working on logos for Piper and putting fliers together for Seth. Plus London has been asked to source a graphic designer for some ads in the paper and apparently I’m the only one available.

ME: I don’t expect there are many needs for graphic designers in small town Montana.

TORI: There is this thing called the internet. There’s this girl called Stacy who does it. Graphics by Stacy. We went to college together. They could use her.

ME: Then tell one of them that.

TORI: Can’t do that.

ME: Why not?

TORI: Because I like money.

I snorted and quickly put my phone down to answer the door. It was the pizza guy, so I took mine and directed him to Josh’s to drop off Kinsley’s order so she’d leave me alone.

TORI: Great. You bug me and ruin my flow and then don’t even reply.

ME: I was getting my pizza. Sorry for the inconvenience.

TORI: The inconvenience here is that I don’t have any pizza.

ME: Do you want me to bring my pizza?

TORI: No, because if you come here nothing will get done.

ME: Plenty will get done.

TORI: Nothing productive.

ME: Sitting on my face is productive.

TORI: Sitting on your face doesn’t pay my bills, Colton.

ME: It could.

TORI: Are you telling me I would be a good prostitute?

ME: There’s nothing wrong with keeping your options open.

I quickly switched apps to the food one and placed an order for a pizza to go to Tori’s apartment.

TORI: You know what I’m gonna be? A reality TV star. But the reality show will be a documentary on how an innocent, small town girl was driven to murder the asshole she was sleeping with.

ME: I’d haunt you.

TORI: You already do. You’re a fucking annoying jerk.

ME: A fucking annoying jerk with magic fingers.

TORI: Really fucking annoying.

ME: These magic fingers just ordered you pizza.

TORI: Ugh. You just reel me back in, don’t you?

ME: It’s one of my many skills.

TORI: I’ll pay you back for it.

ME: It’s a pizza, Victoria. Not a car.

TORI: But still.

ME: Can you just take it as me doing something nice for you?

TORI: The only time you ever do anything nice for me is when I’m naked.

ME: Right. But you’re busy and I know you won’t have eaten since breakfast.

TORI: It’s really annoying that you know that.

ME: I know it is. I’ll leave you to it now.

TORI: …You’re being nice. You’re scaring me.

ME: Just keeping you on your toes.

TORI: I’d prefer you didn’t.

ME: That’s no fun for me, though.

TORI: Grow up.

I laughed and put my phone down, then opened the pizza box.

She’d forgive me when she’d eaten.

***

“I’ve got it figured out.”

I stared at Josh over the table. We were on our lunch break, and he’d barely said a word all day, which meant I knew what he was about to say. “Shoot,” I replied.

“The bookstore.” He put down his sandwich and wiped the corner of his mouth. “I’ve seen on Instagram that people do these book stack things where the first letter