More Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories - By Lisa Scott Page 0,32

waxing session, she already had her first tip for the book: don’t fix your bikini line the day of the date. She mentally composed that chapter in her head on the ride over, then tried not to hobble into the bar as her sensitive skin protested. She’d ditched the undies because of the pain; the slightest touch hurt. A one-night stand was feeling unlikely if not impossible tonight.

She scanned the bar for Witty Will and his gift, and then froze. Her brother was sitting at a table with a beer, smirking at the mural of the naked mermaid on the wall across from him. Holy hell, no way was she going to meet a blind date—from an online matchmaking site—in front of her brother. She’d never hear the end of it. Was it too late to change locations? She’d suggest another bar close by. She and Will hadn’t exchanged phone numbers yet, so she fumbled for her phone to send him an email. Her brother looked up. “Diana?”

She froze, then waved. “Hi, Matt.”

Smiling, he looked her up and down. “Are you going to a very early Halloween party?”

“Shut up. I’m just trying a different look.”

“Trampy librarian? Slutty transcriptionist?”

If she were closer to him she’d have whacked him with her purse. “I’m supposed to be meeting a friend here for a drink,” she said, scanning her email. “But he just suggested we meet up somewhere else,” she lied, “so I have to be going.” She found her last email to Witty Will’s address and tapped out a message, telling him where to meet her. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be annoyed with the last minute change.

“Tell me about this guy,” Matt said, folding his arms and grinning.

She shrugged. “Sorry, I’ve got to be going.” She finished her email and hit send. Then her stomach sank, realizing what she’d done. She’d sent the bra picture. And he’d be getting it any minute—a guy she didn’t even know! Her heart pounded. Maybe that will insure things do go well. No doubt he’d show up at the correct bar now, she thought.

“Can you hang on a minute and save my table while I hit the john?” Matt asked.

Her palms were sweaty and she was thinking about calling the whole thing off. “Sure. But hurry up.”

He stood up and grabbed a small, flat box from his lap. It had a red bow on top. Her stomach fell as she dropped onto the stool. “What is that? Is that—a package?”

He looked down and smirked. “That’s not my package. That’s tucked away for a special lady tonight. This is a gift for my blind date.” He rocked back on his heels.

Diana struggled for words. “A woman from an online dating website.”

He cocked his head. “Yeah, I decided to try it out after you mentioned it the other night. But, how did you know?”

She dropped onto a chair and shook her head. Then she closed her eyes. She felt a pounding headache on its way and the music in the bar wasn’t helping. “I know you went to an online dating site, because I’m Dina. Your date.” She looked up at him.

He stared at her without blinking. “Shut the hell up. No, I mean it.” He pointed at her. “You take that back.”

Laughing nervously, she reached into her purse and grabbed her hand sanitizer. “Witty Will?” She doused her hands with the clear gel and started rubbing furiously.

“Yeah. Will? William? My middle name? You don’t think I’d put my real name out there. God only knows who goes on those sites.” His eyes bulged.

She rubbed the sanitizer on her arms. “You created a different email account for this? And the avatar. Oh, my god. Woody the woodpecker. Woody. Ewww!” Diana held her hand over her stomach. “This cannot be happening. I got a bikini wax for tonight.”

“I trimmed my—”

Diana shrieked. “Go away!” She squirted sanitizer at him, and then looked up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe I changed the sheets on my bed for this.”

Matt shoved his fingers in his ears. “La, la, la, la. I’m dreaming. This is just a horrible dream and I will wake up next to a hot blonde when I open my eyes.” He opened his eyes. “Shit! You’re still there. I was hoping to see a hottie with big tits.”

That’s one thing I don’t have, she thought, unless photographed from a certain angle. Diana clapped a hand over her forehead. “Do not open the email Dina just sent! It’s a picture of—”

“Stop! Don’t