Page 26 of Offensive Plays

A ping comes through on my phone.

strangerDanger23: At the bar, I'm wearing a black tux. Don't be intimidated.

LeaveHerWild: Do you have the minister on standby?

strangerDanger23: Are you proposing before we've even met?

LeaveHerWild: No. The only thing I'm proposing is drinks and a quick escape. Full disclosure: My friends are here lurking for my safety.

strangerDanger23: Full disclosure...mine too.

I drop my phone into my gold clutch and open the door to destiny. If nothing else, I'm going to let a thick, pierced schlong do unspeakable things to me until I forget that I'm not good enough for this modeling world.

The bar is filling up. Typical for a Saturday night. And more of the Heatwave players have found their way here post-charity event. It's packed with overly dressed men in suits.

But my eyes land on the one man sitting on a barstool chatting up the bartender.

I look down at the messages on my phone.

At the bar, I'm wearing a black tux. Don't be intimidated.

Full disclosure: My friends are here lurking for my safety.

Full disclosure...mine too.

No. No. No. No. NO. This can't be right. strangerDanger23 can't be...

OMG...twenty-three! That's Fergie's jersey number. It's him. The man I've been sexting with all week is Michael-freakin-Ferguson.

I'm going to need the earth to swallow me whole right now and make me disappear. Michael looks down at his phone and looks around.

I quickly turn away from the bar and make a bee-line to the exit.

I'm deleting my account. That's the only way out of this. If I delete my account, he can't trace me. He'll never know it was me he was sexting with and we can just go back to normal.

Whatever normal even is for us.

The muggy Houston air hits me as I push the door open, and a message comes through.

It's the app.

strangerDanger23 is at your location. Would you like to share your photo?

Nooooo. Absolutely not.

How do I cancel? Dismiss? Is there a ghosting option? I feel like there should be a ghosting option.

"Lib? Is something wrong?" Kesley's waiting by the door watching me. She must’ve seen me leave.

I can't tell her. I can't tell her that my mystery guy with the bionic dong is sitting at the bar right now and that it's Fergie. Sweet, innocent, never harm a fly, Fergie.

"He...uh...had to cancel," I say, trying hard to conceal the ridiculous amount of embarrassment I’m feeling.

"Bummer," she says, stepping out toward me.

"Yeah. But you know...maybe it's for the best. He would've been a distraction anyway."

"Do you think he's avoiding you?" she cocks her head.