Love Struck (Miss Match #2) by Laurelin McGee Page B

were in different spaces, he was afraid the movement would shatter the fragile moment that he so wanted to cling to. So instead, he scooted his chair closer to his desk, zoning everything out but the screen and her words and his answer. I don’t have either. And if I did, it would be a girlfriend.
    He paused long enough to get the courage to ask the inevitable return question. How about you?
    Time stood still as he waited.
    Neither. And if I did, it would be a boyfriend.
    Eli let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and he grinned. Ear-to-ear grinned. That makes me happier than it probably should.
    Same here. Can we be totally honest? All cards on the table and all that?
    Yes. Hell, yes. He’d tell her anything. Confess anything. Commit to anything. Just as long as the conversation kept going in this direction.
    I think about you.
    Eli read that line again. Then once more before going on to the rest.
    I know, it’s crazy because I’ve never met you in real life. I don’t even know how old you are or if you’re interested in that kind of relationship with someone you met online.
    He’d never even thought about her age. What if she were fifty? Or worse, sixteen? Probably not, though, because no sixteen-year-old he knew was into the Spice Girls.
    Never mind that he didn’t know any sixteen-year-olds. It was just an educated guess.
    When it came down to it, though, he didn’t care how old she was. He didn’t even care what she looked like. Okay, he cared, but he didn’t think her looks mattered as much as they might have had he not already learned how kickass she was.
    He liked what he had with LoveCoda. He liked it enough to want more. He showed his cards. I’m thirty-one. And I’m interested .
    In case he hadn’t been clear enough he added, I’m interested in you.
    He imagined her breath catching. Even though he didn’t know her in real life, didn’t know her gestures or her mannerisms, he imagined her breath catching because that was the response he hoped she had. If he were not so intent on holding on to his manhood, his breath would have caught. Many times over at this point.
    So now what?
    He wasn’t ready for that. He wanted to hear her say it back—see her type it back. Well, first, I think, you should clarify if you feel the same. If you have the same interest.
    I do. Of course, I do. I’m the one who brought it up.
    Had she been the one? He’d forgotten already, feeling as though he’d been the one. It had been his intention. He just hadn’t figured out how to ask.
    Also, I’m twenty-six.
    You’re a baby. He was teasing. He had no problems with her age. Not one.
    Also, holy hell, he hoped the moderators weren’t watching this. He could live with being kicked off the forum—as long as he got LoveCoda’s info first—but he didn’t want a lawsuit on his hands. He’d just tossed all the rules out the window.
    Shut up. The dots of typing appeared and stopped. Appeared and stopped. Appeared again. She was trying to decide what to say next. Finally, she repeated her last question. So now what?
    Good question.
    He didn’t even know where she lived. She could be across the country. Outside the country, even. Honestly, it didn’t matter. He’d go wherever she was just to be able to meet her.
    Only, he couldn’t right now. He had the damn tour. Trying not to regret his obligations, he answered. We should meet. But I have commitments right now. And so do you—you have that album.
    If I met you in person, maybe I could find my inspiration. She added both a smiley face and a heart at the end of her sentence. It was all he could do not to kiss the screen.
    I wish. God, did he wish. But I’m booked. How about this—we set a date for the future. And we meet.
    Several seconds passed, and Eli wondered if he’d misread her. Or if the admins of the site had found them out and cut their communication. Maybe that was overly paranoid. But then why wasn’t she saying anything?
    Then she