“So, are we going to get out of here?” Your date asks abruptly.

“I’m sorry?” You question, setting down your half-finished martini.

“You can finish your drink. Then we should go.”

“Oh… this is the first date…?” you remind him, feeling a little uncomfortable under his expectant look, “We’re just getting to know one another.”

He huffs, pursing his lips in clear irritation. “Come on now. Let’s not do this. The whole coy girl routine might work with a less attractive guy, but we both know you want to come home with me. Girls like you always do.”

“Girls like me?” You question, a sinking feeling in your stomach.

He gives you a look, eyes slowly falling down your body. He doesn’t say anything but you know exactly what he means. That realization feels like a punch to the gut, all the air leaving your lungs.

“Don’t be offended, you’ve got a pretty face.” he adds, reaching up to touch your cheek.

You jerk back, bumping into someone behind you.

“I’m not trying to neg you, just stating the truth. I know you want the chance to be with me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have swiped right.”

You can’t even formulate a response, embarrassed and ashamed all at once. The anger you feel is secondary to the humiliation. You press your lips together tightly, willing yourself not to cry even though you can feel that wave of emotion crawling up your throat.

“Hey, sweetheart. This guy bothering you?” A new voice asks.

You turn towards the sound, surprised to see a handsome blonde man looking intently at you. He’s dressed in an expensive suit that fits his body like a glove, highlighting his broad chest and slim hips. Almost every girl in this city knows him as Jacob Palmer, the city's player and womanizer. You stare at him, confused and surprised as he continues to watch you with steady blue eyes and a charming smile.