Chapter Thirty

NOELY

“Press the button! Press the button!” I shout at the TV, my mouth full of popcorn, my feet dressed in fluffy socks, and my body draped in an oversized T-shirt that covers my knees and elbows. “Come on!” I bounce on my sofa, praying one of the coaches from The Voice presses their button for the girl who’s singing her heart out on stage.

I don’t get to watch much TV during the weekdays, so I make sure to record my favorite shows and binge watch on Sundays. It’s the perfect way to be lazy and forget about the world around me. It’s been a little over a week since my dressing room mishap, and I’m still trying to find ways to distract myself.

Just as the beautiful-voiced girl finishes her song, Adam Levine presses his button. The crowd goes wild, the girl starts to cry, and I feel myself getting choked up.

“That’s right, Adam, you sexy beast. You press that button.” I toss a piece of popcorn at the TV when they show Blake Shelton. “Moron,” I mutter just as my phone beeps at me with a notification.

I glance over at my phone on the arm of my navy-blue sofa and see a notification from the GiB app; I have a message.

What?

Picking up my phone, I study the notification for a few seconds, as if I’m waiting for it to telepathically tell me what it says.

Surely I wasn’t set up with another date? Is Jack messing around with me? Did Hayden change his mind? Can you tell I might be still holding out for him? Just a little?

Feeling curious and a little self-destructive, I open the app. Expecting to see a handle I know like WindsorKnot or even RebelWithACause, I’m surprised when there is a completely new message waiting for me from a VERY familiar handle.

NY152.

I know this handle. I know it very well, and I know the story it belongs to, or movie per se.

Noely,

Don’t you love Malibu in the fall? It makes me want to buy a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils. Don’t you agree?

Me

Errr . . .

What kind of message is that? Who loves Malibu in the—

And then it clicks.

Duh.

It’s the first email Tom Hanks sends in You’ve Got Mail.

Joe Fox writes Kathleen Kelly and says, “Don’t you love New York in the fall? It makes me want to buy a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils.”

NY152 is Joe Fox’s handle in the movie . . .

Confused, intrigued, and shamelessly giddy, I cautiously write back.

NY152,

Charming, but confusing. Who are you?

Noely

I sit back on my sofa, wishing this app worked more like a text, so I could see if they were typing back. The only thing that indicates they might be reading my note is the green circle next to their name, which shows that they’re logged into the app.

I turn my attention to The Voice just when my phone beeps with another message. Pausing the show, I open the app again and read,

Noely,

What if I were to tell you I could possibly be The Suit, The Rebel, or The Jock? Would you be interested in seeing one of them again? Maybe give one of them a second chance? Or have you written them all off?

Me

Stunned, I lean back on my sofa, staring at the message in front of me. Is this a joke? Or is this real? Could this just be a viewer? No, because they wouldn’t have my handle. The only ones who have my Going in Blind handle would be the three men I dated. And they’re the ones who know about my You’ve Got Mail obsession. I shared my obsession with all of them, and I watched the movie with Hayden.

Twisting my lips to the side, I contemplate my answer. Could I give any of them a second chance? Well, I know who I won’t want to give a second chance to. But Hayden and Beck? Hell, possibly. Beck told me to call him if things didn’t work out. Did he catch the show when I said nothing happened with The Jock? He was very intense and handsy at the hockey game.

What about Hayden? He was always very gentle and slow when it came to our relationship because another girl still owned his heart. If they’re out of the picture now, why wouldn’t he simply message me that? Say he is ready? He did talk a lot about Joe Fox and his swagger. Thinking back to our conversations, hell, he said he’d woo me Joe Fox style. Is it Hayden? And would I want to give him a second chance?

I think I would . . .

But, what if it isn’t Hayden?

What if it’s Jack? The alpha suit that thinks he can get what he wants. I’ve endured a lifetime of Jack Valentine already. Could I risk putting myself out there one more time in the off chance it’s neither Hayden or Beck, but Jack?

I gnaw on the side of my cheek, thinking over my options. Is the possibility of finding my forever worth the heartache of things not working out again?

My little romantic heart is saying yes. What is love without risk? I know I was just swearing off men, but maybe, just maybe this could be it. I’ve admitted to having an intimate connection with each man, it wouldn’t be like I was starting from ground zero, but more like picking up where we left off.

Gaining more and more confidence with each internal thought, I type a message back.

NY152,

A second chance? Hmm . . . could be possible, but first I need to ask you, who are you? The Suit, The Rebel, or The Jock?

Noely

It doesn’t take him long to reply back.

Noely,

Where’s the fun in that? I couldn’t possibly give away my identity just yet. All in good time, beautiful.

Me

NY152,

Are you . . . You’ve Got Mail-ing me?

Noely

Noely,

Indeed I am. Until tomorrow, have a good night, beautiful.

Me

Staring at my phone, feeling slightly breathless and definitely restless, I‘m amazed. Which man is now determined to . . . woo me?

But for the life of me, I can’t pinpoint the who, so instead of trying to solve the puzzle, for the first time, I’m going to go along for the ride.