Love Bug (The Prescotts Book 3) by Tara Wyatt (electric book reader .TXT) 📗

so? Just no personal details.

BetaTestAccount23: Right.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: I guess there’s nothing stopping us from just saying who we are—we both work at Tapp, maybe we know each other. But then…it’s kind of fun not knowing, isn’t it?

BetaTestAccount23: It is. It’s freeing. No preconceived ideas. I like it.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: So…what did you want to know?

BetaTestAccount23: Hmm.

BetaTestAccount23: Okay, if you could have dinner with anyone in the world, who would it be?

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: Ha. Well, I didn’t have the deepest answer for this one. But I said Gordon Ramsay because 1) I’m sure he’d cook us an amazing dinner and maybe I could pick up a few cooking tips, 2) he seems really interesting, and 3) I’m sure he has amazing, hilarious stories.

BetaTestAccount23: No way.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: What?

BetaTestAccount23: I said Gordon Ramsay for the same reasons. I’d also keep a running tally of how many F-bombs he dropped.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: Right? He’d make amazing food and be super entertaining. Are you a foodie?

BetaTestAccount23: I love food, but I’m strict with what I eat.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: Oh no. Are you a gym bro?

BetaTestAccount23: I like working out, but I’m not a meathead, if that’s what you’re asking.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: So why do you keep your inner foodie restrained?

BetaTestAccount23: This is totally top secret.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: Dude, I don’t even know who you are! But I promise, anything that happens in the chat stays in the chat. Pinky swear.

BetaTestAccount23: I was overweight as a kid. It was cute when I was little—I was a ball of pudge. You should’ve seen my cheeks. Most pinchable cheeks within a 40 mile radius.

BetaTestAccount23: But it became less cute as I got older and you know how kids can be. I got picked on a lot, so in my late teens I started lifting weights and watching what I ate.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: I’m sorry. That must’ve been really hard. Kids can be cruel, and it sucks that you had to deal with that.

BetaTestAccount23: I liked taking back that control over how I looked, and now it’s just part of my everyday life.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: Okay, but if you could indulge in anything right now, what would it be? Imagine a day with no calories. What’s on the menu?

BetaTestAccount23: Waffles, covered in whipped cream and maple syrup. Mid-morning snack would be a donut, and then lunch would be the biggest bowl of cheesy pasta I could get my hands on. Then fries, then an entire pizza for dinner followed by an entire chocolate cake.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: That sounds absolutely heavenly.

BetaTestAccount23: Even as I was typing all of that out, a part of my brain was tallying up the calories. I can’t switch it off.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: Hey, that kind of discipline is impressive.

BetaTestAccount23: Or psychotic. But I’ll take the compliment.

BetaTestAccount23: Okay, it’s your turn.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: My turn?

BetaTestAccount23: Yeah. I never tell anyone about being an overweight kid. Ever. So I need blackmail material.

BetaTestAccount23: That sounded far more sinister than I intended.

BetaTestAccount23: I don’t people well.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: Really? I think you’re doing fine. More than fine.

BetaTestAccount23: That’s a relief.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: Hmm…Well, okay, there’s this one thing. It’s kind of embarrassing.

BetaTestAccount23: Do tell.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: Don’t judge me, but I thought fairies were real way past when it was cute to think that.

BetaTestAccount23: How old were you?

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: Um, like 10. Way too old to believe in fairies.

BetaTestAccount23: I don’t think that’s embarrassing.

BetaTestAccount23: It’s sweet.

“Who are you talking to?” Dori’s voice cut through the music and startled Willa, forcing her to set her phone on the table and look up.

“Oh, um. One of my matches in the app,” she said, shocked to find that they’d been effortlessly chatting for nearly half an hour now. Or maybe it wasn’t shocking given their alleged compatibility. She rubbed at her face, realizing that her cheeks were sore from smiling. “How did it go with blue shirt guy?”

Dori made a face, wrinkling her nose. “Total bust. Total douche. Total waste of time.”

Willa frowned. “Damn.”

“Yeah. I think he saw how much fun I was having and decided to ruin my night.”

“I’m sorry, Dor.”

“It’s okay. Besides, I’m only interested in fictional men and guys who don’t actually like me back. But I did find this guy who could be an honest to God Viking to dance with for a bit, so I still had some fun. Were you up here on your phone the whole time?”

“Yeah, sorry. I got chatting with this guy, and time just kind of flew.”

“That’s got to be a good sign, right?”

Willa smiled. “Yeah. Maybe.” She liked that he’d opened up to her right away, sharing about his weight struggles when he was younger. In her experience, that kind of vulnerability wasn’t easy to come by and it made her hopeful that not only were they truly a good match, but maybe he’d be her ticket to really moving past Max.

Just then, Brandon came back to the table, Elliott hanging a few feet behind him. “Hey, we’re going to head out,” he said, his eyes bright.

Willa’s eyebrows rose. “You’re taking Elliott home?”

Brandon nodded. “Mmmhmm. Yep.”

Willa stood and pulled Brandon in for a hug. “Just…be careful, okay? He’s got a lot of baggage and I don’t want you to get hurt.” She’d wanted to bring Elliott out so he’d have some fun for once, but now that he was going home with one of her good friends, she had mixed feelings about it.

Brandon gave her a squeeze. “I appreciate the concern. But I think we both know that I always go for red flags over red roses and your brother is no exception. I know what I’m getting into. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Text me tomorrow. But, um, no details, okay? He is my brother.” And there went another pang of jealousy-tinged loneliness, stabbing her right in the middle of her chest.

He winked at her and then returned to Elliott, who took his hand and led him down the stairs, tossing a wave over his shoulder at Willa.

“You wanna go home and eat ice cream and watch trash TV?” asked Dori, her head tilted. “My feet hurt.”

Willa smiled and picked up her phone, slipping it back in her clutch. “Yes. Yes, I