"Mary Alice Brandon, I am not downloading another dating app."
"Be serious, Bella. It's 2015. This is how men and women meet each other nowadays."
"It just seems so . . . " I struggled for a moment to find the right word. ". . . impersonal. How can you tell anything about a person by a few pictures?"
"You can see if how they dress, how fit they are, where they've been . . . it's just to get a foot in the door. It's how you start a conversation."
I lowered my voice to a frat boy drawl. "It's how you know girls are down to—"
Suddenly the hotel manager stood in front of my desk, tapping her high-heeled foot.
Lauren Mallory was five feet, eight inches of terrifying woman. As the hotel manager and my boss, much of my job involved kissing her ass. Not gabbing on the phone to my best friend.
"—down to stay at our establishment, Mr. Brandon," I continued. "We consistently earn five stars on Yelp and great ratings on TripAdvisor. Our many amenities include a spa and beauty salon on site, which many women enjoy."
Lauren folded her arms. I held up a finger and smiled sweetly, mouthing, One minute.
"The Wicked Bitch of the West, I presume," Alice giggled. "I'll talk to you later."
"We at the Olympic Hotel are looking forward to your stay, sir. Have a good day."
I hung up the phone and sheepishly turned back to Lauren.
"Sorry, Ms. Mallory. I was just telling Mr. Brandon about our services here. He's planning a twentieth anniversary trip for his wife."
"Right, well . . . redirect him to the front desk next time. You're busy enough as it is."
Doing your job, I thought darkly after she had gone.
It was true. There were a number of events at the hotel coming up this month, and much of the planning had been dropped on my plate. It was clear to me and the rest of the staff that Lauren landed this job because of her connections. Her uncle had been an early investor in the Olympic when it started. She didn't care about she did.
I sighed. One day I would be my own boss. It was going to be a long road, but I was hopeful.
When I was sure Lauren wasn't around, I texted Alice.
You and me, my place after work. Bring a bottle a red. We can set up that stupid app. - B
Anything for my bestie. - A
"I warn you," I told Alice as she uncorked the bottle later that evening. "I will not sink to Tinder level. You know what happened last time."
"The Crowleygate scandal of 2014. How could I forget?"
"Crowleygate" was an unfortunate Tinder date I suffered through a year ago. The day we met, I learned Tyler was forty-five, not twenty-five years old. He was married, had two children, and expected a blowjob in the bathroom at the end of the first course.
Needless to say, I ducked out before my glass of wine was empty.
"This is kind of like Tinder, but it's better. I'll show you."
When we were comfortable on the couch, she took my phone and navigated to the app store. I leaned in closer to read the name.
"Bumble? As in bumblebee?"
She shrugged. "I didn't name it."
"How's this any different from Tinder?" I asked, watching her choose pictures of me from my Facebook.
"You swipe like you do on Tinder," she explained. "But the match is temporary. Twenty-four hours only. It disappears forever unless you message first."
"Me?"
"If the girl doesn't message the guy in one day, the match disappears. Adios."
I raised my eyebrows. "Wow."
"It's supposed to eliminate the creeps," Alice added. "They can't message you unless you initiate it."
"Hmm," I said thoughtfully. "That's interesting."
She held up the phone for my inspection. I liked the pictures she chose—one of me studying abroad a few years ago in Spain, me with my elf hat from last Christmas, even a sexy shot of us from Alice's birthday trip to Punta Cana.
"What do you want your profile to say?"
I shrugged. "Bzzz, bzzz?"
"Huh?"
"You know, like a bee. Bumble. Get it?"
Alice scoffed. "Come on."
"You're the one who wanted to set this up. Do it. Bzzz, bzzz."
"Don't blame me if beekeeper freaks message you," she muttered, tapping away at the screen. "All right, I'm done."
We held the phone between us so we could both see. It was a different format than Tinder, but had the same concept. A few pictures, a teeny description, and an estimation of how close they lived. Unfortunately, I was starting to see some familiar faces.
"Alice," I whined. "This is hardly an improvement. If Tyler pops up, I'm done."
"Bella, I'm trying to get you laid," she exclaimed. "It's been, what, two months?"
"Three," I said tersely. "Thanks for keeping score."
Three hideously long months.
I met Peter in a bar with Alice one Saturday. He was a businessman, and only in town for the night. We texted occasionally after he left, but nothing major. An uncomfortably long dry spell followed his departure. One that I shouldn't have complained about so much if she was going to use it against me.
"Hey, this one's cute."
"He is," I agreed, watching her scroll through his pictures.
His name was Edward. He was tucked between a bride and groom in the first picture, a tuxedo hugging him all the right ways. The next one had him slung over a guitar with a big pair of glasses low on his nose. We laughed at the last one, him beaming next to a Batman cosplayer at Comic Con.
"I'll match," Alice decided, swiping to the right. I nodded silently.
My phone vibrated not a minute later. You have a new connection!
Alice refilled my wine glass. "Ball's in your court, kid."
"Bella, are you kidding me? You didn't message him?"
I poked at my salad to avoid her admonishing stare. "Not yet."
"You only have seven more hours to do it, you know."
I did know that. Bumble was kind enough to send frequent reminders that time was running out. I was starting to miss the no pressure swiping of Tinder.
"How's Jasper doing?" I asked, hoping to change the subject.
"Working a double," she said moodily.
Alice's boyfriend was a firefighter. Sometimes they went days without seeing each other, even though he recently moved into her apartment.
"Did he say what he wanted for his birthday?"
"Nothing," she shrugged. "I'm thinking something low key. The guys from the station want to book a back room at a bar."
I fought back a smile. If Alice had it her way, Jasper would be subject to a cake, singing, endless presents, decorations, the whole nine yards. Where she was pizzazz and excitement, he was laid back and chill. It was truly a study of contrasts.
"Message him," she warned me as our lunch break came to a close. "I mean it."
I was up to my ears with work for the rest of the afternoon. The Olympic was hosting a prom on Friday night and a charity brunch on Sunday morning. Lauren and I spent hours on the phone, arranging things and nailing down the schedule. After explaining what needed to be done for the evening staff, we were free to go.
"Any plans for tonight, Swan?"
I spun my car keys around my finger. "Netflix."
Lauren chuckled at that. Despite our busy day, she was in a remarkably good mood. I quickly learned why.
"Michael's taking me out to dinner tonight. His grandmother flew down to see him last month, and I think he got the rock."
It was about time. I had been listening to her bitch about him not proposing to her for over a year. I flashed her a cheery smile and told her I hoped they'd be happy together.
"Happy enough to leave your job," I muttered after her car pulled away.
My phone buzzed from the bottom of my purse. I pulled it out and sighed. Bumble again. I only had two hours left until the match disappeared forever.
Too tired to be clever, I typed a lame "Hi!" and headed for home.
Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz.
I looked up from my plate. It was my phone again. I assumed it was Alice asking if I sent a message. I nearly laughed. Now that she was happy, she was determined that I meet someone.
I picked it up and raised my eyebrows. It wasn't Alice. Bumble happily reported that Edward had messaged me back.
Hey there. - E
No gross pickup line. Smooth and to the point. I liked that.
What's up? - B
Just having some dinner before work. You? - E
I glanced at the clock. It was seven-thirty. I wondered what he did for a living.
Netflix and chill, I typed, smiling at my own joke. If Netflix and chill means Netflix and stuffing my face. - B
My phone buzzed almost immediately.
I hear that. Nothing sexier than watching twelve hours of television with take-out. - E
I laughed aloud. Sexy, indeed. I sent a few funny emojis and put the phone down to wash my plate. When I returned, there was a new message waiting for me.
Edward must have been as bored as I was tonight.
What are you watching? - E
House of Cards, I wrote back, my eyes flashing to the computer screen. Kevin Spacey and Robin Wright were smoking together by a window. There was something very alluring about them, even if they were super fucked up.
What about you? - B
I'm trying to get through The Killing. My stepbrother, Emmett, is obsessed with it. But I'm not liking it too much. - E
Why not? - B
It's so convoluted. So many red herrings. Plus the lighting is so dark, I have to wear my glasses when I watch. - E
I imagined him peering at the screen through those huge frames and giggled.
What do you do for work? - B
I'm a bartender at Emmett's place right now. At the end of the summer, I'm back to studying for my master's in teaching. - E
I felt myself nodding, always impressed with people who went back to school, before I realized he couldn't see me.
With my phone in hand, I grabbed a blanket and settled on the couch. I sat for a moment to think about my next message, then started to type.
"Ohhh, so that's what you've been up to all week," Alice was saying on Thursday. "Messaging the Bumble man."
"Edward," I corrected when I finished chewing. "And he's really nice."
"Let me see," she demanded, holding out her hand. I sighed, passed over the phone, and went back to my sandwich.
"You're both so nerdy," she laughed, scrolling through the messages. "Who gets into an argument about pizza toppings?"
I shrugged. "We do, I guess."
It was fun and diverting to message Edward this week. He came through as a very charming but genuine man. I learned he wanted to teach high school history. He was allergic to tree nuts, chose strawberry as his favorite ice cream flavor, enjoyed working at the bar, and—
"He wants to meet you?"
"Yeah. He's working on Saturday night, but he said I should drop by."
"Which bar is it? Hey, why haven't you replied?"
I paused. "I don't know if I should, Alice. He's nice over the app and all, but what if it's too good to be true? If this turns into Bumblegate—"
"No 'gate' business here," Alice said firmly. "I'll go with you. Besides, he'll be working. It's not like he can insist on a blowjob in the bathroom with a dozen customers waiting for drinks."
"Really? You'll go with me?"
"Of course," she said fervently. "I should have gone with you for the Tyler date. Even if this is at a busy bar, we should be safe about it."
"Couldn't agree more."
Hey, I'll definitely be there on Saturday. Sounds like fun :) - B
Awesome! I'm excited. It's called McCarty's. First round is on me! - E
Haha, thank you! I know we have pictures, but we should come up with a high sign or something. Like, for when we meet. - B
How about "Bzzz, bzzz"? ;) - E
"Bzzz, bzzz" it is. - B
"Stop fidgeting," Alice hissed, slapping my hand away from the hem of my skirt. "You look great."
"This seems like a bad idea," I whispered after the bouncer returned our IDs. "I'm having flashbacks to Tindergate."
"Good thing he has the first round," she muttered, planting her butt on the barstool. "You need a drink."
I poked her in the ribs before I sat down. We crossed our legs and took a look around. McCarty's was an Irish pub on the surface, but had a sports bar vibe popular with college students. Though it was only nine-thirty, the place was starting to fill up.
"What can I get you?"
This had to be Edward. The reddish brown hair was the same as the pictures, and the broad smile. His eyes were a bright green. In that moment, the only thing I could think of was the heart eyes emoji.
"Um, bzzz, bzzz?" I blurted out.
His smile grew. "Bzzz, bzzz."
Alice made a face. "What is that?"
Edward shook his head, chuckling. "It was our code word for when we met. You must be Alice. Hi, I'm Edward Cullen."
He shook hands with my friend, then with me. I held his outstretched hand for a beat too long, then flushed.
"It's good to meet you," I said when I gathered my thoughts. "In the flesh, I mean."
"Likewise. So, first round is on me," he grinned, putting a pair of coasters on the bar. "What would you like?"
You, on a platter. "Umm, any beer on tap."
"I'll take a gin and tonic," Alice said, then elbowed me when Edward moved away to start mixing. "Bella, what's your problem?"
"Huh?"
"You're acting weird, and he's being really nice."
"I'm not trying to be weird," I whispered. "He's so much hotter than I thought. I feel so out of my league. How can he be that attractive not find someone in real life?"
Alice leaned over the bar to peek. Edward was retrieving a bottle from the low shelf, his head out of view. But his ass was in plain view . . . and well, it was something.
"Need I remind you, Mary Alice, that you have a boyfriend?"
"Honey, I'm just being your wing woman. Now relax and have a good time," she said, then shut up as Edward approached with our drinks. He smiled at me.
"Thanks," I smiled back, curling my hand around the cool glass. "I think I'm going to start a tab."
"So you had to chaperone the prom?"
"Yup," I sighed, recalling the event at the Olympic the night before. "Apparently one of the teachers fell through and they were short."
Edward hung the last glass he had been cleaning above the bar. "Well, they do need people to sniff out the alcohol."
"Those kids were bold," I admitted. "A few brought in flasks. At my prom, someone just spiked the punch."
"Same with mine," Edward chuckled. "And that someone was my stepbrother."
I motioned toward the bar. "And now he has this fine establishment."
"He's living the dream."
We grinned at each other, then looked away. The bar had emptied out over the evening; McCarty's was always the first stop before the clubs. Only two other patrons remained, and they were dozing over their beers.
"So when's last call?"
"When we're done talking," he offered.
"You just want the tips."
"You caught me," Edward laughed, then he hung one arm over the taps. "So, can I ask you something?"
Please don't say blowjob in the bathroom, I thought desperately. Cause this time, I might do it.
"Sure."
"Why did you get Bumble?"
Oh. That was much safer.
"Alice," I admitted, motioning to the empty stool beside me. She'd left hours ago, claiming she had an early morning appointment—on a Sunday. But I knew better. She wanted to give us alone time.
"She's doing the I'm-so-happy-in-my-relationship-I-have-to-set-up-my-friends thing."
"Ah," Edward nodded. "That dreaded thing."
"Yeah," I agreed. "But I think it worked, 'cause we're having a good time."
"We definitely are."
I felt my cheeks flush. "So, um, why did you get it?"
"Well, Tinder was starting to scare me," Edward began, smirking as I winced, "And, well . . . I kind of liked that the woman has to start it. Takes a little of the pressure off."
"Plus I'm new to the area, and I only know Emmett," he added. "He doesn't have a lot of female friends."
One of the sleepy patrons snored loudly. I finished the last of my beer. Then I cleared my throat.
"I don't mean to be presumptuous, but do you have plans tomorrow morning?"
"Are you sure we don't have the pay for this?"
Edward adjusted his tie nervously and stared around the convention room. The charity brunch that the Olympic was hosting was just getting started. Lauren and I decided to have a buffet style service, so the guests could move and mingle without waiting on servers.
"Edward, I work here," I laughed. "Trust me, you can have whatever you like."
He had two plates when we reached the end of the line, carefully balancing them on one arm. I supposed it was the bartending that made him so deft at it.
"Sorry about the tie," I said, leading him through the back to my desk. Now that the brunch had started, it was up to the rest of the staff to supervise. There was more privacy back here so we could talk. "We have to dress up for these events."
"Oh, no worries. I'll have to get used to it if I want to be a teacher."
"What made you want to teach?"
"I had the best teachers in high school," he told me after a hefty bite of a scone. "But my favorite was the history teacher. He was a Civil War nut, but he made class really fun."
His entire face lit up at the memory. It was absolutely adorable.
"So you were a bit of history nerd."
"A full fledged nerd," he confessed. "Glasses, braces, and textbooks."
"Me too," I laughed. "Though I was always reading novels."
Edward pointed his fork at me. "Jane Austen."
"How did you know?"
"You said the other day that your favorite book is Pride and Prejudice."
On Wednesday we had ventured into our favorite books and movies. The message thread had grown so long that I forgot about it. I blushed.
"Oh, right."
"So, do you like working here?"
I glanced around my office. "Yeah, I suppose. I really want to open my own bed and breakfast, though. That's the end goal."
He raised his eyebrows. "Really? You don't want to work your way up here?"
"Nah. It feels so empty sometimes, like it's all about making money. I want to have a cute B&B that old couples stay in for their anniversaries. Somewhere out in the country."
Edward thought for a moment. "Call it Bumble Bella's. Bumble Bella's, the best B&B around!"
"No," I laughed, tossing a napkin at him. "Too many B's."
He twisted his fingers in the air and strummed imaginary chords. "B."
"Guitar, right? You'll have to play for me sometime."
"What about this Friday? I'm off."
Edward smiled. "It's a date."
"Bella, your boyfriend is a riot."
I ducked out of his way and shushed him. "Jazz, he's not my boyfriend."
"Yet," he winked. He had a birthday hat strapped under his chin, messy hair, and a t-shirt that read, Happy birthday, asshole. Altogether it was a portrait of a very drunk firefighter.
"You and Alice are the worst," I complained, but my cheeks were red. I liked the idea more than I cared to admit.
Edward and I had been hanging out for about a month now. He was easy to talk to and funny to a fault. An excellent kisser, to be sure, and a master at mixing drinks. I polished off my beer and caught his eye across the room. He wandered over as our gazes lingered, leaning over the bar.
"Need another?"
I tapped my lips. "Right here."
He chuckled and held my chin to kiss me. "Is Jasper having a good time?"
"Too much of a good time, Edward," Alice grumbled, joining me at the bar. "I'm gonna have to have to drag his drunk ass home."
"Yo, Cullen! Another round!"
It was almost funny. Alice and Jasper had switched roles. By the time he woke up the next morning, he'd be back to the regular Jazz.
Edward glanced down the bar at the firefighter crew. "Sorry, Alice, but these guys have been tipping me extremely well. In addition to this lovely lady right here."
He kissed me again, then wandered away to serve the guys. Alice poked my ribs.
"Ow!"
"Have you slept together yet?"
"No," I grumbled. "Not yet."
"Why the hell not?"
"We've done other stuff," I said defensively. "He works late, and I work a lot . . . it's been nice to take it slow."
Alice nodded. "I guess you're right."
"I am."
"Okay. Sorry."
I sighed. "Do you think I'm right?"
"You are," Alice laughed. "I'm just sensing a lot of sexual tension. Like, a lot."
"I'll be sure to give you a full report," I promised, my eyes following Edward as he moved up and down the bar. "Sooner than you think."
"Does this look like a crack house?"
Edward sat in front of my coffee table, counting out his tips from Jasper's party. With his huge glasses and Batman t-shirt, he looked like a nerdy drug lord.
"Sorry," he beamed, tucking it all away into his jeans. "Those guys literally paid my rent for this month."
I handed him a glass of wine. "Sweet."
Edward tapped the spacebar to bring my laptop to life. "So, what are we watching tonight?"
I set my glass down and snuggled up next to him on the couch. His arm coiled around me automatically and began moving toward my ass. I leaned up to nibble under his ear.
"I thought we could Netflix and chill . . . without the Netflix."
"Really," he murmured, turning my head to kiss me. I curled my finger around the collar of his shirt to keep him there, smiling against his mouth.
"Bzzz, bzzz," I giggled. He laughed and swiftly rose to walk with me.
I led him into my bedroom and kicked off my shoes, sighing as his arms wrapped around me. I hadn't expected to feel so comfortable around him so soon, but I did.
Edward groaned as I drew my hand over his jeans, unzipping them into explore inside. His kisses were hot and exciting in the darkened room. I closed my eyes as he moved down my neck, his tongue darting out over the skin. We hurriedly slipped off our clothes, eager to touch.
I moaned at his hand between my legs, moving against his fingers. I felt his lips curve into a smile at his name on my lips, and pulled him down on top of me. There was a ripping noise as he tore into the condom and rolled it on.
He positioned himself between my legs, his hands on my hips to guide the way. Both of us shuddered when he pushed inside. We moved slowly for a moment, adjusting.
Edward pulled my leg upward toward his shoulder. "Is this okay?"
"Yes," I breathed, enjoying the deeper sensation. "More than okay."
"Good," he panted, bringing the other leg up. He moved faster now, varying each thrust. I felt my head fall back. I never wanted this to end. It was more than okay—it was great.
Edward let my legs down and I wrapped them around his waist. He was closer this way, his breath warm on my neck. I pressed my hands flat to his back, rocking with him. It felt natural, easy as breathing.
"Bella, I'm gonna . . . " he was panting now, his arms shaking. He moved faster, then groaned. A moment later he was still, nuzzling his face against my neck.
Edward curled up next to me as our breathing slowed. I felt his hand sliding down my belly after a few minutes and shivered. He coaxed me toward my own release, till I peaked around him. I tilted my head to kiss his chin when it was over and sighed.
"Bumble would like you to rate your experience."
"Five stars," I grinned. "Definitely."
Edward pulled me close. I felt him move my hair out of the way so he could kiss my shoulder.
His next words were so quiet I almost missed them.
"Just so you know . . . I deleted Bumble. Like, the night we met."
My eyes widened. "Really?"
"Yeah," he admitted. "I didn't see the point. Do you still have it?"
I giggled. "I deleted it after that Sunday brunch."
We laughed together. It was strange that an dating app brought us together so effortlessly. Alice had been right; it was much, much better than Tinder.
I heard his sharp intake of breath as I rolled on top of him. "Bzzz, bzzz?"
"Bzzz, bzzz," I agreed.
A/N: I wrote this fun little oneshot in between studying for my finals. I'm so very monogamous with Number Our Days, but I wanted a fun, lighthearted sidefic. :)
Bumble is a real app. The girl-messages-guy function is cool, but it does not keep away the creeps. Tread carefully, friends.
Thanks for reading!
