Girl Gone Viral (Modern Love #2)(2)

“I told you I was going to.” When she’d decided she wanted a romantic partner, she’d made a deal with herself, one she hadn’t really shared with anyone but her best friend and roommate, Rhiannon.

If she could make it out of her house to ten places, ten places where she felt comfortable and cozy and safe, then she could date.

She’d hit ten last month. Had managed road trips to ever-farther destinations. And then she’d had no excuse, right? She had to start going after the thing she wanted.

The thing you said you wanted.

Crush had seemed like the easiest way to go about that. Beyond the fact that it was as woman-friendly as a dating app could get, with Rhiannon as CEO and herself as a minority shareholder, she’d felt safe in creating a profile there. Her roommates had helped her take some blurry, unidentifiable photos—her looks had changed since she’d been a model, but she was cautious—and she’d drafted a short bio after much agonizing.

Looking for a partner in mostly legal activities. Enjoy cooking, gardening, the outdoors, romance, art, reading, and animals. Please be kind and have more emotional intelligence than a turnip.

Rhiannon had written the last part, and it had made Katrina laugh, so she’d kept it in.

Andy leaned back. “How many people have you messaged since we last spoke?”

“Two.”

“How many messages did you exchange with them?”

She winced. “Um . . . two.”

“Each?”

“No. I said hi and ghosted when they replied. Which I’m not proud of,” she hurried to tack on. Ghosting wasn’t a good thing to do to people, even if it was digitally. “But I did message, so I technically did my homework.”

Andy cocked her head. “I suggested you try talking to some of your matches. It wasn’t homework.”

If I do this thing my therapist says, then she will give me an A-plus, was a thought process she was trying to shake. The people-pleaser in her made life rough. “Right, of course.”

“What are you looking to get out of this app, Katrina?”

“I want to meet someone.” Katrina looked down at her hands. “Feel that . . . zing.”

“Zing?”

“Yeah. You know? That little zing, when you talk to someone or touch someone that you’re attracted to and like? That’s a thing, right?”

The lines around Andy’s eyes crinkled. “I think we all call the zing something different, but yes. How long has it been since you’ve felt that zing?”

Since about an hour ago. Katrina carefully avoided glancing in the direction of the office door. Or more accurately, at the man who was waiting for her outside it. She wasn’t ready to talk about that yet with Andy. She kind of hoped she’d never need to. “I don’t know. I’ve always been a romantic, but . . . I didn’t think it was for me, and I was at peace with that. These urges are kinda new.”

“Not wanting sex and romance is totally natural. So is wanting sex and romance. Going back and forth between those wants, depending on where you are in your life, that’s also fine.”

“I’m not doing this because I feel pressured or anything, don’t worry.” She lifted her shoulders. I want to figure out if these things I’ve started feeling for this one particular man will translate over to other men, because I can’t . . . with him.

Later. She’d discuss him with Andy later. She needed to process him first.

“I might be scared to actually meet someone face-to-face.”

“You fear you won’t be able to mask?”

“That’s part of it.” Masking was a nice word Katrina had learned from Andy. It covered what she did when she went out in the world and pretended she wasn’t sweating over what her brain and body might do to her.

Fear of fear. That was what her very first therapist had called her panic disorder, and it was accurate.

“It’s always an option to tell someone up front that you may have a panic attack, if you feel comfortable doing so.”

She inwardly shuddered. That was an option, but only a select few people knew about her panic attacks. They made her vulnerable, and she knew how vulnerability could be used against her. “I don’t think I’m there yet.”

“You don’t have to be. Only do as much or as little as you feel comfortable doing.” Andy grinned. “I’m not telling you to be a serial ghoster, but don’t beat yourself up.”

Katrina picked at her cuticles, then stopped when she noticed the quick glance Andy shot her hands. “Got it.” Andy’s nonjudgmental face was calming, but Katrina didn’t know if she’d ever be at a point in her life where she’d stop judging herself.

“It’s one step in front of another. Downloading the app, texting, talking, having a coffee. You’re in charge.”

Find someone else. Anyone else. “Okay.”

They spoke for a few minutes about other, more casual matters, until Andy discreetly checked her watch. “Is there anything else going on that you want to talk about?”

Katrina kept her face placid. When she exerted a small amount of effort, she was a stellar actress. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Same time next week?”

“Absolutely. Thanks as always for meeting me here.” She politely stood when Andy did and walked her to the door. Andy’s leather jacket creaked when she grabbed the helmet from the coatrack. She and Andy had started meeting in person relatively recently. Before this, they’d conducted most of their weekly sessions via video.