"Hmm." I nod and lean back, letting Bridge continue to take the reins on this whole online experiment. She knows me better than I know myself, so really, she'll probably pick better guys for me than I would anyway. "This is way easier than I thought it would be."

"I told you."

But then my phone dings. And again. And a third time.

"What's happening?"

"Oh, nothing…" Bridget trails off, but I can't help but notice she is slowly pulling my phone farther and farther out of reach.

"Bridge, what's that noise?"

"Just guys responding."

Another ding. And another.

"Give me the phone!" I shout trying to yank it out of her grasp just as another ring chimes through. But her arms are longer than mine and she easily keeps it out of reach. "How many guys did you check?"

"Just two, the others are guys finding you."

I pause. Sit up. Guys are finding me? Guys are noticing me? They're singling me out based pretty much only on my photo? I mean, it's totally demeaning and a little gross, and I know it's really the pull of the bikini and not much else, but still. A sort of buoyant feeling trickles up my spine, puffing out my chest, bringing a slight smile to my lips.

Another ding.

My heart starts bubbling like champagne, fizzy and light. So what if it's the bikini photo? It's still me in the bikini, not some other person whose photo I stole. I feel pretty good right now. Confident, and dare I say, a little smug. "That's like seven guys."

"You know…" Bridget looks up from the search to meet my amazed gaze. "Guys hit on you all the time, it's not their fault that you tend to run away every time they say hello."

"I don’t run away," I grumble under my breath. I walk…quickly…

But Bridge won't let me off that easy. "You do too. Ollie, back me up on this."

He remains silent.

"Ollie?" Bridget says again.

"Wh—what?" He snaps to attention, pulled from a daze. Was he looking at my phone? For a moment, it looked like he was staring at my phone.

"Tell Skye that guys hit on her all the time."

He turns his eyes to me. They're sparkling with controlled laughter. "Guys hit on you all the time."

"And that she's just too nervous to take notice."

"And you're too nervous to take notice," he repeats, eyebrows raised in mock admonishment.

"And that she should try saying hello once in a while."

Now he's nodding his head, fighting back a grin. "And you should try saying hello once in a while."

"And that she's beautiful."

Ollie pauses. Swallowing. Humor gone. "You're beautiful."

Was his voice breathy or was that just in my head?

"And that your sister is your favorite person in the world." Bridget turns to me with a wink.

But Ollie just ignores her and stands up, pushing her legs off of his lap. "I'm going to start dinner. I bought supplies for dumplings, can you guys help me wrap them? I'll do the rest."

"Oh, so we're your sous-chefs now?" Bridget teases.

I interrupt before this carries on for too much longer—between the two of them it could be hours before I eat. And my stomach is already growling. "Yes, Ollie. We'll help."

He holds my gaze for a moment before disappearing into the kitchen. I stare a little too long at the spot where his face used to be, pulled away only when Bridget starts giggling in my ear.

"What?"

"Um…" she starts. "You need to read these yourself."

"Oh god, what now?" I ask, grabbing my phone and looking at the screen.

At first I don't notice what she's laughing at, but then it hits me. I race to click on the little envelope at the top of the screen, dread tightening into a deep, dark pit at the bottom of my stomach.

Your place or mine?

That's all the first message reads. Your place or mine!

Are you kidding me? Is that serious?

I'll choose neither, thank you very much.

I delete his chat from my phone, erasing it completely before I click on the next message from a different guy.

Sex?

And that's it.

Delete!

I click on the next, heart racing, vision turning the slightest hint of red.

Your gorgeous… Okay, well that one's not so bad, except for the incorrect grammar. Not ideal, but at least he was trying. I scroll down and read the second half of the message. I want to lick chocolate fudge off your body.

What the?

I mean, does someone actually think that is a good pick-up line? Or not even a pick-up line, but just an acceptable thing to say to a human being you've never even met before? Scratch that. Even if we had met, heck, even if we were dating, I'm not sure I'd ever want to hear that from someone. Ever.

I turn off my phone.

"Bridget, is this for real?"

She licks her lips, a sorry expression creeping onto her face. "Well, it's not the ideal first online dating experience. But, what's that saying? My mom always used to say it. You have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince?"

I gawk. "Kiss a lot of frogs…?" I trail off, shaking my head. "He asked me to lick chocolate fudge off of him. Not just chocolate, but chocolate fudge!"

"What?" Ollie shouts from the kitchen. A moment later, his head pokes around the corner. "Who? What's going on? I'll be back in a second, wait for me before you guys say anything else."

I ignore him. "This isn't a dating app. This is a sex app! You put me on a sex app!"

"I didn't know that…" Bridget cringes. "I don't have a profile. I just have friends who use it. Ollie uses it!"

Speak of the devil.

At that moment, Ollie walks in with a bowl of dumpling stuffing and empty wrappers, ears perked to listen in on the conversation.

The perfect unsuspecting prey.

"You let her put me on a sex app!" I shout and jump off the couch, slapping him repeatedly in the arm—crush completely negated by the fury scalding my blood.

"Hey, watch the food." He swerves around me, almost dropping the bowl.

Just what I need right now—pork bits splattering all over my apartment—not. I drop back, still fuming, but calmed somewhat after my outburst.

"What sex app? What's going on? All I heard was something about licking and chocolate fudge…" He trails off into a fit of confused laughter.

"This!" I shove the phone in his face. At first, he turns serious, focusing on the screen to read what it says. But then I watch him mouth the words chocolate fudge and a moment later he's convulsing again.

I snatch the phone back. "I'm deleting this app. That's it. Online dating is so not for me."

"Oh, come on," Bridget urges. "That was just bad luck. We could try a website instead of an app. It can't always be like that. I mean, right, Ollie?"

"I don't know, sis," Ollie teases. "I always start my conversations by offering to lick hot foods off of a girl. I mean, really, it’s just good manners."

Can I hit him again? I really want to hit him again.

Bridget beats me to the punch—literally.

"Ow." He sets the food down and rubs his side. "That actually hurt."

"Good," Bridget and I mutter in unison. And then we lock arms and collapse back onto the couch. A sigh travels up my throat.

I'm right back where I started.

Single. Prospectless. In need of a boyfriend, and ASAP. Well, except now I'm even more exhausted and even more hopeless. And I had thought the situation couldn't get any worse. Clearly, I'd been wrong. Oh, blissful ignorance, why did you abandon me?