Sweet Rivals (Cape Shore Romance #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

W hen the notification chimed, my heart fluttered pathetically. This was what it had come to, getting excited that some nameless, faceless man was sending me a message. Ugh, how sad could I be? I asked even as the dopey smile spread across my face. Despite the protests of my practical mind, I hurried over to the computer, removing Mouse from his spot with an angry little meow, before folding myself into the chair.

PotatoBake888: How late did you stay up last night?

TheBakingChick: I’m not telling.

I wrote with a smile, biting my lip as I waited for his reply.

PotatoBake888: One?

TheBakingChick: Nope

PotatoBake888: Two?!?!?

TheBakingChick: Don’t judge me.

PotatoBake888: Why do you do this to yourself?

TheBakingChick: Do this to myself? This was all you. You made me watch it.

I wore my fuzzy cat slippers and oversized t-shirt that acted as a nightshirt. I would have to get in the shower soon and head to work, but for the next five minutes—and the last five months—my life revolved around the messaging app built into Ed-U, the online learning platform for the bakery management class I was taking. I had gotten my BA in restaurant management, but signed up for the bakery specific class so I could feel like I was making progress toward bakery ownership. If I ignored my singular ambition for too long. I felt antsy and unsatisfied, which seemed to be happening all too often lately.

PotatoBake888: Nice to know I have that kind of power over you. And what time did you finish it?

TheBakingChick: Why are you so nosey?

PotatoBake888: I’m just a concerned citizen.

TheBakingChick: I finished it at one

PotatoBake888: LOL! Did you sleep with the lights on?

TheBakingChick: No. I didn’t need to. The streetlight outside my window is as bright as day. All I have to do is open the curtains.

PotatoBake888: Do you even like scary movies?

TheBakingChick: Of course!

I had a love-hate relationship with scary movies since meeting PotatoBake888. Before meeting him, I always saw the trailers and thought they might have interesting plots but never had the guts to watch them all by myself. Until PotatoBake888 convinced me to watch one, mostly through relentless teasing.

The gore and jump scares had a serious impact on my quality of sleep. But I got back at him by making him watch all of the Lord of the Rings movies. He had somehow made it to thirty without ever having seen them. I let him know just how embarrassed I was for him at that oversight.

Talking to PotatoBake888 online felt safer than any of the “real” dating I had done in recent memory. There were clearly defined boundaries built in to chatting through our class’s platform that prevented me from getting too close therefore avoiding the inevitable heartbreak that ended my romantic endeavors.

I might sound like a cynical old hag, but in my experience, there were no happily ever afters in real life. Maybe I was too young to make that determination, but I was sick of trying to a man that stayed. So unless this guy offered me the magical promise of a long-term relationship, I could enjoy the illusion of flirting without any of the baggage that went along with a relationship.

Eventually, I wouldn’t have a choice but to try the whole dating thing again. For now, I planned on putting it off as long as possible. I was determined to be a fully formed person, chasing my own dreams and passions rather than performing for some guy. And that was the nice thing about PotatoBake888: no performance necessary.

Aside from watching The Ring from behind my hands so I could tell him that I did it, but that doesn’t count.

Every so often, I caught myself overthinking my responses to him, before checking myself and instead sending the first thing that popped into my head. I didn’t owe this stranger anything. And somehow, to no one’s surprise at all, it felt like the realest, most genuine part of my life.

PotatoBake888: How’s the Food Fest prep coming?

More points to him that he, unlike almost every guy I had ever long-distance dated, could not only carry a conversation, but actually remembered facts about me and asked questions. Other guys seemed pathologically incapable of texting more than single word answers and asking follow-up questions was absolutely outside of their repertoire.

TheBakingChick: The same

PotatoBake888: How’d the lobster muffins turn out?

TheBakingChick: We don’t talk about that.

PotatoBake888: But without those muffins, you may never be crowned lobster queen of the year.

TheBakingChick: Damn it! What will I put on my resume? I snorted a laugh as I typed.

PotatoBake888: It’s okay, I’ll still make you a lobster crown even without the muffins.

TheBakingChick: Made with real lobster?!?

PotatoBake888: Only the best for you. If you don’t want to be the queen of the Food Fest. What do you want, TheBakingChick?

TheBakingChick: What every girl wants, I guess. Immeasurable wealth and unlimited success.

Once I had accidentally let my dream of opening a bakery slip, but we hadn’t talked about it since. That was something I kept close to my heart. Only my best friend, Cat, knew anything about it. If I spoke it out loud to anyone else, that made it real, and I wasn’t ready for that yet. PotatoBake888 knew now, but if I had to guess, he didn’t know just how many of my thoughts the idea consumed.

PotatoBake888: Wow? What every girl wants? This is huge! You’ve cracked the code. You should write a book for all the clueless men.

TheBakingChick: That isn’t really in my master plan, but I’ll consider it.

PotatoBake888: You must work with a lot of men at the restaurant

He left off the punctuation, so I didn’t know if it was a question or a statement.

TheBakingChick: They are beyond hope. No “how to” guide is going to get them laid any time this century.

The world of professional cooking had changed a lot, so I heard. It was no longer the sausage party it once had been, but my family’s restaurant hadn’t caught up with the times. Not only were we stuck in the past with having a kitchen full of men, but they were the worst kind of men. I loved them all dearly, but I also wanted nothing to do with them.

I hesitated before typing out the next question.

TheBakingChick: What about you?

I asked, my palms just a little bit sweaty as I typed.

TheBakingChick: What do you want?

PotatoBake888: I’m not sure.

I could feel him pulling away even through the screen.

PotatoBake888: Gotta run. Talk soon…

And there it was. The inevitable cut and run as soon as I ask anything about him. What was with this guy's aversion to sharing personal details? Did he have some terrible secret that couldn’t be uttered even via anonymous online chat? Was he married? Was he a serial killer? Somehow, he seemed too charming to be a serial killer, but maybe that was what he wanted me to think. All those stranger danger lessons of my youth were really paying off.

I shrugged as I logged off with a sigh, dreading when the class would end.