I pressed a finger against my silly grin.

Don’t hate me if:

I allowed my stubbornness to let the best thing that ever happened to me slip away. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.

My knees wobbled, and I leaned against the exterior of the bar. The next screenshots were from OkCupid.

Looking for: Adi Gellar for a serious relationship.

I know the best spot in town for: Pie

My self-summary:

I am the sensitive and vulnerable romantic hero you want and deserve. Or I can be him with a little patience. I throw a damn good snowball and know how to make a toboggan out of the lid of a trash can. I’m not boyfriend material yet, but I can be if you give me a chance. Please give me another chance.

I consciously slowed my breathing. If my heart thumped any harder, it would explode from my chest and crash into some poor, innocent pedestrian walking along Third Avenue.

This was huge. But how had Finn expected me to see his profile if he hadn’t messaged me? Unless. I closed out of my texts and opened my OkCupid app. My skin tingled. There it was: a message from Finn Adams.

I see from your profile you’re a fan of Hallmark movies! Me too. I particularly like the friendly people, the beer festivals, and the pie (obviously).

I’ve made some changes to my profile. I hope you like them. I’d prefer to take it down completely and walk off into the sunset with you but thought this could be categorized as a grand gesture. How did I do?

The smile that broke out on my face couldn’t be contained. It was the grandest of grand gestures. I wanted to try again, and he wanted to try again. We were on the same page! The best part: His message was sent the same day I delivered my story to Derek, which meant our epiphanies had been simultaneous. If I hadn’t heeded OkCupid’s warning about my profile becoming inactive, Finn never would have found me on there.

I rushed toward the entrance and SMACK into the chest of the burly and very tall bouncer. I craned my neck up…up…up at him. “Sorry!”

He peered down at me from what felt like four floors above. “ID?”

“My wallet’s inside the bar.” So was Finn.

The bouncer crossed his arms over his enormous torso. “No ID, no entrance.”

“But I already showed it on the way in. I just came out to take a call. Didn’t you see me? It’s only been…” I had no idea how long it had been. I rocked in place. Finn must be freaking out. What if he thought I pulled a runner?

The bouncer yawned. “I just started my shift,” he said, turning away to inspect the ID of two more people. He let them in while still blocking me out.