Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

TWO MONTHS LATER

SYDNEY

I am having the best freaking date ever.

For the month after Bonnie died, I was afraid of my own shadow, definitely too scared to jump back into the dating pool. Especially since Jake and the rest of the NYPD never made an arrest for her murder. That part infuriated me more than anything. At first, I was calling him every few days, asking for updates, and I berated him when there never were any. I vowed that I would not go on another date until they found out who did that to Bonnie.

But then, one day I was eating dinner on my sofa in front of the TV, wearing my usual uniform of a T-shirt and sweatpants, and it hit me that in exactly six months I was going to be thirty-five years old. My life was slipping away, and after nearly two straight months of feeling sad about Bonnie, I decided it was enough. It was time to move on.

I reactivated my Cynch profile the next day.

And I'm glad I did, because I am having a great time on this date. His name is Travis, and he looks exactly like his photo. He has reddish-brown hair, a square jaw, and tight muscles in his forearms, and he's a perfect six inches taller than I am.

And even better, he seems nice . We have things in common. We like the same movies (not Rocky ), we have the same sense of humor, and best of all, he hasn't made me FaceTime his mother once in the entire time we've been having coffee together.

"I have to tell you, Sydney," he says as he sips on his cup of coffee, "this is the best date I've had in a long time."

"Me too," I agree.

We are having a coffee date at this pretentious little coffee shop that is packed because it recently got written up in the New York Times . I suggested coffee so I wouldn't be stuck with him if we didn't connect, but we have now ordered two blueberry muffins, one white chocolate and raspberry scone, and also something called a cronut—it's not quite a croissant and not quite a donut, but it definitely has a million calories. We have completely spoiled our dinners, because we just don't want to leave.

"Honestly," he says, "I was ready to give up. I have been on some doozies lately."

"Tell me about it," I giggle. "I could tell you stories that would blow your mind."

"I bet I could top you."

"I'm not so sure."

He grins at me, and I grin back. I don't want to get carried away, but I think this is going somewhere. I really think there's going to be a second date, then a third, and maybe a lot more after that.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, the door to the coffee shop swings open. A man walks in, and I almost do a double take when I recognize who it is.

It's Mystery Man. After all this time.

Even though I'm having a great time with Travis, I can't help but stare at the handsome man with black hair settling down at one of the round wooden tables. Travis is amazing, but there was no electric jolt when I laid eyes on him. I haven't felt that once since the night I met Mystery Man what feels like an eternity ago. But even though I remember him quite well, he either doesn't see me or he doesn't remember me, because he doesn't even glance in my direction.

Just as well. Travis is great, and I don't need any distractions from a sexy guy who clearly isn't interested in me.

"Hey," Travis says, his smoldering blue eyes locking on mine, "I'm on like my third cup of coffee and I'm never going to be able to sleep, but I kind of want to keep this going. What do you think about heading somewhere else for dinner?"

I smile to myself because I had been contemplating the same thing. "I would love dinner."

"Yeah?" His whole face lights up. "That is awesome."

Travis looks so thrilled that I forget all about Mystery Man entirely. I can't wait to have dinner with this guy. We can compare bad-date notes and share a bottle of wine. I'm really glad I didn't give up on dating. Bonnie was right—it really is a numbers game. Even though she was wrong about Dr. McHottie.

But then the smile on Travis's face fades away. Suddenly, he is staring at me with a look of horror on his face. His skin turns the same color as the cream on the table.

"Sydney," he gasps.

I can't figure out why he looks so horrified. Then I look down at the blood stains on my shirt.

"Oh my God!" I clasp a hand over my nose. "I'm so sorry, I…"

This is just great. I haven't had one of my infamous, epic nosebleeds in over a year, and of course it would happen during the best date I've had in years.

I snatch a few tissues from the dispenser on the table, trying to sop up the blood on my face. "Let me just go to the bathroom and—"

And then something really awful happens.

Before I can even get out my sentence, Travis's eyes roll up in his head. And then he slides out of his seat and collapses to the floor, his head hitting the tiles with a loud clunk.

Wonderful. The best date I have had in years, and I made him faint from my stupid bloody nose.

The entire coffee shop goes silent, staring at me with my horror show of a bloody nose and my date lying unconscious on the floor. One woman screams, which I honestly feel is a little unnecessary.

"It's okay," I manage, a tissue still pressed to my nose. "Everything's fine. I just…"

That's when I notice that Mystery Man has stood up and is maneuvering between tables, coming toward me. Wow, he got to see my epic nosebleed too. This is just getting better and better.

Mystery Man crouches next to Travis on the floor, who is starting to come to, groaning and rubbing his head. Mystery Man frowns down at him.

"Are you okay, sir?" he asks.

"Yeah…" Travis's eyelids flutter and he rubs his head again. He's trying to sit up. "What happened?"

"Looks like you had a vasovagal episode and fainted," Mystery Man says. "I'm a physician, and I just wanted to make sure you're okay. We can call an ambulance if you'd like."

"A vaso…what?" Travis rubs his head. "No, I…I'm okay." He looks over at me and flinches. "Sorry, I…I'm just not a fan of blood, you know?"

Mystery Man glances back at me, and for a split second he rolls his eyes. But then he turns back to Travis and starts asking him a bunch of questions about how his head and neck feel and if he can move his arms and legs. Travis seems fine, although embarrassed. He's not looking at me the way he was before. Actually, he seems like he's avoiding looking at me entirely.

"I'm okay," Travis tells Mystery Man. "Honestly. You should help her ."

"I'm fine," I assure him, even though I've now gone through about five tissues in my attempt to sop up all the blood. My blouse is definitely ruined—at least for now. I've got some good tricks for getting out blood stains that I've picked up over the years.

"You don't look fine," Travis points out. He is still avoiding looking at me, and his face is a few shades too pale. Sweat is beaded along his hairline.

"It's nothing to worry about," I say. "This happens to me sometimes."

If there was anything I could have said to make it less likely Travis would ever want to see me again, I have definitely hit on it.

"Listen, Sydney…" Travis clears his throat. "You look like you need some time to recover from…all this. So why don't we do dinner some other time?"

"Sure," I say. "How about on Friday?"

"Uh, maybe." Travis yanks his jacket off the back of his chair, his hands shaking slightly. "I'll text you through the app. Or something." He stuffs his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. "Anyway, bye."

It would not be an exaggeration to say that Travis ran out of the coffee shop as fast as he possibly could. He didn't even pay for his share of the coffee.

And now I am left with my bloody nose, a check for about six coffees and multiple muffins and danishes, a bunch of crumpled up tissues covered in dried blood, and Mystery Man staring at me.

"I don't think we're having dinner on Friday," I finally say.

Mystery Man bursts out laughing. "I got that sense, yeah."

"It's not funny." Although, against my will, I find my lips twitching slightly. "Believe it or not, until my nose started gushing blood, that was the first good date I'd been on in a long time."

"With that guy?" Mystery Man looks in the direction of the door where Travis vanished, never to be seen again. "I find that hard to believe. You're much better off without him. I mean, what grown man faints at the sight of a bloody nose? Sort of pathetic, don't you think?"

"Well…"

"Really," he says, "you don't want to have kids with a guy like that. What's he going to do when your kid gets bopped in the nose with a soccer ball? You dodged a bullet."

"Maybe…"

"Also, he stuck you with the check. What a jerk." Mystery Man reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He grabs enough bills to more than cover our coffees and pastries, then tosses them on the table. "How hard is that?"

The twitching in my lips blossoms into a tiny smile. "Thank you."

I pull the tissue away from my nose. It looks like the blood is finally stopping. Why not—it already did its damage.

"There's a souvenir shop next door," Mystery Man tells me. "Let me get you a new shirt so you don't have to walk home with blood all over you."

"Seriously? Those places are a rip off—you're going to pay a fortune."

He shrugs. "Better than being covered in blood, right?" When he sees the hesitation on my face, he adds, "I insist."

I can't help but smile. "Okay, then."

"And then," he says, "if you're feeling up to it, I'd love to take you to dinner."

I stare at him, stunned. Is he seriously asking me out on a date after witnessing a volcano of blood literally erupting from my nostrils? But he doesn't look like he's kidding. His nice brown eyes are focused on mine, and there's a suggestive smile playing on his lips.

"Well," I say, "okay."

Mystery Man's smile widens to show off his straight white teeth, and once again, I get that jolt of electricity. Travis seemed great, but I didn't have that same electrical attraction with him—that's the sort of thing you don't get to experience very often. And it seems like Mystery Man feels the same way about me after all.

Maybe that stupid nosebleed was the best thing that ever happened to me.

"I'm Sydney," I say.

"Nice to meet you, Sydney," he says. "I'm Tom. Tom Brown."