“We don’t have to have intercourse. I’ll show you a real man can give you pleasure without crossing that line.”

“It’s just that . . .”

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

I know what Harry means, but my eyes are on Sam’s retreating form and I can’t stop thinking that what I want is a second chance. With Sam. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“Next time, then.” He pulls me forward and presses a wet kiss on my mouth, sucking both of my lips between his. I’m not sure if he’s trying to kiss me or eat me. Yuck. “Night, sugar.”

I mumble a good night and watch him exit through the back door, simultaneously relieved and defeated when I’m alone again.

What am I supposed to do with myself now?

I could go home to my empty house and warm up a TV dinner, but that would be a lonely reminder of why I’m driven to dating guys like horrible Harry. I could surprise my twin, Hanna, at her house and visit my gorgeous little nieces, but then I’d have to watch my soon-to-be brother-in-law drool over my twin. Nate’s adoration would remind me why guys like Harry will never seem good enough. Or I could spend some quality time on the job websites, continuing my seemingly endless search for a new job.

Drinking it is.

I head to the bar and wave down Brady, the owner of this dive my friends and I love so much.

“That guy? Really?” Brady says.

I shrug. Brady’s seen me meet a lot of guys for drinks in the last few months, not many of them more than once. “He looked good on paper.”

He pours me a shot and hands it to me across the bar. “If you’re going to start going for the older men, I’d like to take a number.”

I grin, then shoot back the tequila, welcoming the warmth it sends humming into my chest. “He claims to be thirty-four. And anyway, I don’t think I could keep up with you.” I return the shot glass to his wrinkled, age-spotted hand.

Chuckling, he refills the glass. “Not many girls can.” Then, more seriously, “Still no prospects?”

I shake my head. “It’s possible I’ll be single forever.”

“Maybe not,” he says.

His eyes shift to the other side of the bar, and I follow his gaze to the booth where Sam is sitting with his best friends, William Bailey and Max Hallowell. Will and Max are laughing about something, but Sam’s eyes are on me. He holds my gaze for a moment before turning back to his friends, and my heart stutters out its disappointment.

“Sam and I wouldn’t be a good match,” I tell Brady as I straighten in my seat. Like any barkeep worth his salt, Brady knows more about my love-life woes than my best friends do—mostly because my best friends are so busy with their perfect love lives that I don’t want to bore them with my hopeless one.

“Why would you say that?”

Because he can’t forgive me for one drunken night of poor judgment. “He’s the consummate playboy,” I say instead. “Fun when I was younger, but not the kind of man who wants to settle down and make babies.” The thought of making babies with Sam sends my pulse into a tizzy. Now that would be fun. Le sigh.

“I think you’re underestimating him,” Brady says.

I shrug. “Call it women’s intuition.” Or once bitten, twice shy. I know the score with Sam. I learned it the hard way the first time we hooked up. By the time I decided I needed second helpings, I knew what to expect. Or, better yet, what not to expect.

“I call it foolish,” Brady says with a shake of his head. “You keep fishing for men in that barrel of losers called the internet and act shocked every time you reel in a dud.”

I take my second shot, grimacing a little less this time. “There are plenty of men who do online dating who aren’t losers.”

He huffs. “You haven’t brought any of them here.” With that, he heads to the other end of the bar to wait on a new customer. I’m left staring at my empty shot glass and contemplating my equally empty life.

No job. No boyfriend. No prospects.

My phone dings in my purse—not just any notification ding, but the special tone assigned to the Something Real chat application. The sound makes my lips curl into a smile and my stomach flutter in anticipation. It shouldn’t, but it does. There’s only one person who contacts me using that app, and the idea of a new message from him always brings a smile to my lips.

Riverrat69: How’d the date go?

Tink24: Let’s put it this way—my sister’s Rottweiler’s kisses do more for me. I’m officially striking out with this dating thing.

Ever since my sisters and best friends started finding their true loves, I’ve been determined to take my own dating life more seriously. I’ve always been more interested in the hottest guy in the room than the most stable one, but those days are over. After my Super Summer Screw-Up, I decided it was time to step up my game, and started using online dating sites, but the traditional online dating route has gotten me nowhere. Brady’s right about that, and tonight’s date with Harry the Horrible is evidence enough.

While I haven’t given up on the ForeverLove.coms of the world, I decided to roll the dice and gave a new service a shot. Something Real is the hot new dating website for New Hopers. Some web developer put the program together and has it in beta testing for people in and around the New Hope area. What makes Something Real unique is that it doesn’t allow its users to share pictures or even names until they hit certain relationship benchmarks. That’s how I met Riverrat69, my anonymous friend and current obsession.