If there was one thing that I hated more than selfish, narcissistic, think-they're-God's-gift-to-women men, it was waiting. And waiting for men?

Well. That was just salt in the wound.

I tapped the toe of my boots against the floorboards as I watched the hands tick on my brand new leather watch. It was faux, of course, and a gift from my mother, who 'really would have preferred to have bought the diamond one! It's just so much more feminine, Madison dear ...'

"Will that be all?"

The sugary sweet voice of a cute barista drifted over from the counter, her bubble-gum pink nails tapping the computer screen as she took an order. Her curly black hair spilled out of a high ponytail, revealing soft brown features and vibrant almond eyes. I could see the source of Dex's adoration, if that was in fact the barista in question.

I wouldn't know whether it was, of course, since it was already ten past nine and neither Dex nor his blond friend had cared to show up.

Typical. My college resolutions—a stack of rules I'd created to guide me through my first year of adulthood—flashed through my mind. Number three, especially, taunted me like an annoying younger sibling.

Stay away from men.

"Madison!"

I quirked a brow as Dex and James appeared beside my booth.

"Finally." I motioned to my watch. "I have class in twenty, remember?"

"Sorry," they said in unison, though their small smiles hinted at some level of shared amusement.

I guess it was only the second week of classes. I could probably turn down the teacher's-pet vibe a touch.

Dex spun on the spot theatrically, landing in a hands-on-the-hips pose as James slunk into the seat opposite me. "How do I look?"

I ran my eyes over his unruly auburn curls, which had been slicked back in a style not exactly becoming with far too much gel. He'd paired a dark denim jacket that swam across his shoulders with black ripped jeans that looked like they'd been hemmed by Levi Strauss himself. In 1853.

It wasn't quite what I'd had in mind, but I couldn't let fragile Dex know that.

I nodded. "Great. Really great."

His hopeful smile fell. "You hate it."

"I don't hate it!" I laughed, but even I heard how strained it was. "How could I? You did exactly what I suggested."

Dex grinned, but the confidence in his glittering green eyes had wavered. Unfortunately for me, lying had never been my best quality. It had never really been a quality of mine at all, and I was going to have to work a little harder if I wanted to boost the frail ego of the boy standing in front of me.

I clapped my hands, rubbing them together in an attempt to fight off the sharp chill that drifted in from the ever-opening coffee shop door. "Alright. It's getting late, so let's get this show on the road." I jerked my head toward the counter. "Is that her?"

Dex followed my gaze to the petite barista I'd been watching earlier.

And then collapsed into the booth.

I had my answer.

"Holy smokes," he repeated over and over, his face as white as James' crisp shirt. "She's so pretty."

I couldn't help but shake my head at Dex's infatuation, wondering for the second time in twenty seconds what exactly I'd gotten myself into. Why did I care whether a complete stranger got the girl of his dreams? I knew very well how it was going to end. The way that all relationships end. In pain.

"Okay, here's what's going to happen." I pulled my eyes from my watch—fourteen minutes until class—and leveled them at Dex. "You're going to order our coffee. Lactose-free latte for me, and ... James?"

"Double shot espresso."

Bleh.

"Double shot espresso for James," I repeated. "Then, once you've given your name for the order, you're going to come straight back and sit down. The goal is to be normal. Do you hear me? No weird small-talk, no word-vomit, no creepy compliments. Up, order, sit. Got it?"

Dex looked confused as he blinked back at me, but after a nod of encouragement from James, he conceded.

"Up, order, sit." He paused. "And when do I propose?"

I covered my face with my hands, hiding an exasperated groan. Not very well.

"I'm kidding!" Dex held up his hands, rising from our booth. "Just joking."

"She's on a schedule, Dex," James reminded him curtly.

I removed my hands from my eyes to see Dex nodding enthusiastically. "Okay. Lactose-free latte, two espressos. No spontaneous proposals."

I threw him a weak smile as he slunk away, shaking my head slowly from side to side. God, I hoped he was kidding.

James and I watched Dex approach the counter, reaching for menus to use as shields to make our very conspicuous spying a lot less conspicuous. The barista greeted Dex with a warm smile, and I tried to analyze her body language to determine whether she was into him or whether she was just ... doing her job.

"Lactose-free?" James queried as we waited. "Is that a medical thing, or just an on-trend-Kardashian-fad thing?"

I turned to face him, unamused, and really not in the mood for what sounded a lot like an insult given I hadn't yet had my morning caffeine fix.

"I would answer you," I retorted, "but the kind of person who orders a double shot espresso is not the kind of person who should be judging other people's coffee orders."

James' bewitching smile fell to a frown that creased his otherwise flawless brow. "What's wrong with espresso?"

"Oh, nothing. Do you like vanilla ice cream, too? What about the color blue? I bet it's your favorite."

I was used to people taking my dry humor the wrong way. I half expected James to take offense. Maybe I wanted him to.

But he didn't.

He laughed.

Not in an awkwardly-offended kind of way, either. It was a genuine, hearty laugh that made his eyes crinkle up in the corners.

"You're calling me basic." James leaned back in his seat, cocking his head so that I had a premium view of the chiseled planes of his jaw. "You've got a bite to you."

To that, I didn't know what to say. And me, not knowing what to say? It was a rarity.

Dex joined us back at the table, saving me from thinking up a fitting quip. He grinned from ear to ear as he threw the receipt in front of us proudly. "She said she liked my jacket!"

"Well, well, well," I sang, pleasantly surprised with my styling advice after all. "Would you look at that? Madison knows what she's doing."

Dex nodded. "I'm listening to you about everything from now on. From this day forward, you're my wingwoman. My messiah. My spirit guide—"

"Woah! Slow down, cowboy. One lesson, remember?"

"Well then." James rubbed his hands together. "We should take as much as we can. Got this week's lottery numbers?"

"Deck?" the barista called before I could toss him an equally-as-sarcastic reply.

Dex's face, alight with victory only seconds prior, paled with dread.

"She doesn't know my name," he whined softly. "Why didn't I just say 'Derek'? Why did I go for the stupid, babyish nickname?"

He rose to his feet, but I pulled him back down quickly.

"No." I flashed him a sly grin. "Wait here. I'll get them."

He furrowed his brow. "Why?"

"Because," I whispered as I started to saunter away. "Make her come to you, remember?"

"But—"

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Deck."

He stared after me, mouth agape, but I'd walked too far for him to protest. Besides, I was his spirit guide now. He'd said so himself.

I said hi to the barista, then thanked her as I took the tray of steaming hot coffee from her hands—and stole a quick glance at her name tag.

Holly. Pretty.

"No problem," she replied, a wide, bright smile decorating her glossy fuschia lips. "Let me know if you need anything."

Just as I turned away, an idea whirled through my head. An idea that could help fast-track Dex's courtship and help me finish up my wingwoman-ing right then and there. Early retirement? Yes, please.

I reached into my back pocket to retrieve my card. "Actually, do you think you could bring over a bacon and egg bagel when you have a sec?"

"Of course," Holly said in the politest customer-service voice I thought I'd ever heard.

When I joined the boys back at the booth, Dex was leaning across it urgently. "So? Did she ask about me?"

I rolled my eyes. He really had no concept of playing it cool.

"You need to calm it, Dex. Relax. Drink some coffee." I frowned as I handed him his cup, the realization that he was having caffeine unnerving me slightly. "Maybe we should get you a hot chocolate next time."

"Next time?" James repeated with an arched brow. He didn't miss a beat.

I ignored him, turning to his doe-eyed friend instead. "Her name's Holly, by the way." I placed a hand over my heart. "She has a name badge, right here."

Dex's face—a mirage of shifting colors—turned a blushing pink.

"Well I wasn't looking at her chest," he reasoned plainly, "I was looking at her eyes. At the way they sparkle when she laughs. Like the sun at sundown, or its reflection in the sea ..."

I unlocked my phone as I sipped on my steaming latte, stifling a smirk. "You really are an English major, huh?"

"They remind me of my dog from when I was a kid," Dex continued, completely oblivious to my sarcasm. "Heidi. She had the prettiest honey-brown eyes."

I logged into Facebook, then Instagram, typing the name of the coffee shop into the search bar. "Another slice of advice. Don't ever compare a girl to a dog."

"No no no, you're misunderstanding. She was a good dog. A great dog. With the cutest little button nose."

"Well, that's much better."

After a few more seconds of typing, I felt a triumphant grin tug at my lips.

"Holly Tapia," I read quietly, leaning across the table to show the boys my phone. Holly's Facebook stared back at them, limited in terms of content due to her privacy settings, but a small accomplishment nonetheless.

"How did you do that?" Dex asked incredulously, and I even saw James raise his eyebrows in slight awe.

"We have her name and workplace. It wasn't that hard."

"That's so cool," Dex mused.

"If not creepy," the dubious blond added, his blue eyes narrowed but still twinkling like fairy lights. "What do you have on us?"

I smiled mysteriously. But ... nothing. I hadn't even thought to cyberstalk the boys sitting opposite me. I just wasn't that invested.

Or maybe I didn't want to be.

Stay away from men.

Resolution number three beamed through my mind; a warning. A trigger. That tiny smile tugging at my lips wilted, and I sunk back in my seat, raising my phone to cover my face. I scrolled through Holly's profile, scanning over the little information that was viewable. Scanning for something that we could use to hook her ...

"Do you like The Killers?" I asked Dex, keeping my voice low.

He threw up his arms. "If she does, I do."

I frowned. "What about Def Leppard?"

Dex frowned right back. "Were those the girls on Disney Channel?"

"Violet Apex?" I tried again, exhaling defeatedly. Did those two have anything in common?

"Shut up!" Dex squealed.

James and I instantly turned to him, alarmed, the arrows shooting from our eyes reminding him to calm the fuck down and shut the hell up.

"Shut up!" he said again, whispering that time. "I own their albums. Like actual, physical albums. I've seen them in concert twice."

From the corner of my eye, I could see Holly moving out from the counter, my tantalizing bacon and egg bagel in hand. I stopped myself from looking too excited as I cleared my throat, raising my voice just enough to reach her ears.

Showtime.

So, we finally met Holly — the girl who's 'different from other girls'.

This chapter certainly raises some interesting questions about dating in the era of technology. Is anyone else guilty of cyberstalking? I have to say, my online sleuthing skills are pretty slick.

We all do it... right?! Or am I alone on Creep Island? 🌴👻

The next chapter is almost edited and ready to go, so let me know how soon you'd like it.

Danielle x