Page 72 of My Killer Blind Date

I laugh. ‘How about you go, and then bring me back a towel.’

‘Oh no,’ he says wickedly. ‘We’re in this together.’

‘That’s not very gentlemanly!’

His eyes narrow and his mouth looks sinfully inviting as it crinkles up at the side. ‘Who said I was a gentleman?’

‘Fine.’ And then, with no warning, I take off laughing to the house, with Liam right behind.

Chapter Twenty-four

The two naps were a mistake, because I cannot for the life of me fall asleep. Two in the morning finds me staring at the green alarm clock numbers.

Maybe it’s the naps, but maybe it’s also that I’m sharing a bed with someone for the first time in years. I glance over at Liam, who’s been dead to the world since our heads hit the pillows. Makes sense. The poor guy hasn’t slept in two days, since before George’s party.

I finally grab my phone from the nightstand to entertain myself, but I have zero bars of coverage out here – which I had not noticed until now. Fuck. At least I’m not in a situation where I need to dial 911. That would’ve been a rude surprise.

Liam has to have WiFi in the cabin, but I didn’t think to get the password from him. It seems a bit mean to wake him up just for that, so instead, I set my phone back down and entertain myself by fully replaying our encounter in the outdoor shower. Maybe we could repeat the experience tomorrow morning … There was something about doing it semi-outside, with the sound of the waves as our backdrop, that made it extra magical.

After the full mental replay that definitely has me hot and bothered and wishing Liam would wake up, I have imaginary dialogues with George in my head as she oohs and aahs over the lurid details of what his fingers did where. It hits me that I should officially invite Liam to be my guest for the wedding. I hope he likes pea soup …

Around two thirty, Liam rustles beside me, then gets up. He grabs his phone and looks at something.

‘Everything OK?’ I say, propping myself up.

‘Oh. Just checking for raccoons.’ He turns to look at me, holding up his phone. ‘Did you hear them?’

I stifle a laugh. ‘Raccoons? In your phone?’

‘They’re getting into the cake again.’

‘What cake?’

‘I told them not to …’ His eyes are open, but a bit glassy … is he actually awake?

I peer into his face. ‘What did the raccoons say?’

‘They never tell me.’ He runs a hand through his hair with an air of frustration. ‘If I could just go back to before …’

OK, obviously he’s sleep talking, and it’s kind of adorable.

‘Don’t worry.’ I put a comforting hand on his back and rub a little circle. ‘No raccoons in here. The cake is safe.’

‘Oh … good. Just keep an eye out.’ He sets his phone down and heads to the bathroom.

I reach over the bed and help myself to his unlocked phone. Maybe I can get the WiFi password to display in his settings … I swipe away a few notifications. A news alert about the stock market and another news item about some tradwife influencer, but I’m not getting sucked into clickbait now.

Before I go into Settings, though, I can’t help but notice the myriad of dating apps clustered on his home screen. Ugh. Not ideal that these are on his phone. Especially since we just did that …

But I’m not going to overthink it. He only just asked me to be his girlfriend. He probably hasn’t gotten around to deleting them.

… on the other hand, I’ve been cheated on before. More than once. Maybe I’ll just take a quick peek and make sure he’s not still DM-ing other women.

I count half a dozen apps, which – wow, Mr Serial Dater indeed. I tap open the first. I click on Previous Matches and scroll. Shit, this guy realllly dated a lot. But the most recent match is from six weeks ago, so we’re good. I swipe out and open the next. I pause for a second as I hear the toilet flush, then turn my attention back to his phone, open app number two and scroll through his hookup history. OK, there’s a DM from a few weeks ago – but I recognize her. Right! Lady in Pink, the one who tried to clock me with her purse.

The sink turns on and I hear the slosh-slosh of Liam washing his hands. He’ll be back any second, and even though he’s sleepwalking, it’s not like I want him to catch me snooping on his phone. Maybe I’ll look at one final app and call this mission complete. I pick one at random. ChiMatch. Inside the app, I click on the MatchMessage icon, then scroll through his messages with various women. None of them are recent, so looks like we’re good—

Wait. A name catches my eye and I stop scrolling.