Release Blitz~ Right For Love by Aria Cole





Love is only a swipe awayā€¦
Pre-med student Carly Samuelson doesn't have time for things like swoony Valentine's dates, so when her best friend downloads a dating app to get Carly lucky, her expectations are low. But when her friend swipes right on tall, dark, and dashing Thorn Cartwright, Carly walks into something she never expectedā€”Thorn's got a proposition: one night, one dress, him and her. But can one swipe right really lead to love?
















ONE

Carly
   ā€œGirl.ā€ My best friend leveled me with serious eyes, one hand holding a lock of blond hair that was wrapped around a searing hot curling wand above her head. ā€œYou need to get some action before those bits turn to dust.ā€
   I burst out in a laugh. ā€œMy vagina will just incinerate and float away, huh?ā€
   ā€œWhat do they sayā€¦ā€ She tipped her head to the side. ā€œIf you donā€™t use it, you lose it?ā€
   I shook my head, watching as she unrolled the curl and let it bounce into a perfect ringlet as she got ready for her Valentineā€™s Day date tonight. Lord knows with whom this time. Saying Selma was a free agent was putting it lightly.  
   ā€œIā€™m too busy for the kind of trouble you get up to at all hours of the night,ā€ I finally answered. ā€œYou know, someday all of that natural beautyā€”ā€ She wagged a finger at my face ā€œā€”is going to crack. That young virginal thing you got going on wonā€™t last forever. Why you wasting all your youth with your head in a textbook? You have to live, Carly!ā€  
   I crossed my arms, thinking it was moments like these that made me both love and despise Selma for her natural, dark-eyed beauty and that effortless attitude she lived her life with.
   ā€œIā€™m not like you.ā€ I finally shook my head. ā€œI donā€™t do well with strangers or in groups or in public places on holidaysā€¦really, anywhere with people. I just donā€™t do well with people.ā€
   ā€œBullshit.ā€ Selma dropped another curl, twisting it softly then setting the wand on the counter. ā€œAnyone can date now, no more awkward first dates or getting-to-know-you conversations. I downloaded this dating app. You just swipe right if the guy is a hottie, left if he looks like a douchenozzle. Welcome to dating in the modern world.ā€
   ā€œA dating app? You downloaded a dating app?ā€
   ā€œYou know I like to spice things up in my life.ā€
   I huffed, a little incredulous. I thought online dating was for nerdsā€¦ Well, I guess I was technically a nerd, considering all I did was go to class, study, sleep, repeat. While Selma was partying the night away at clubs, kissing strange, sexy men, I was up late in a college sweatshirt and pajama pants, poring over anatomy books. With just one more year to go in my biology degree, the end was in sight. All the hard work of the last few years would finally pay off with a diploma and a set of skills that could allow me to get a job at any doctorā€™s office around the country as a physicianā€™s assistant. The coursework had been brutalā€”Iā€™d known it would beā€”but I was too far in to throw it away now, even if my grades were at the top of my class.  
   ā€œIā€™m not using a dating app. I canā€™t even think about dating right now.ā€
   ā€œItā€™s not dating, exactlyā€¦ā€ Selma pushed me in front of the mirror and picked up the wand, twisting a lock of my hair in her fingers and wrapping it around the barrel of the wand. ā€œItā€™s more likeā€¦hookups.ā€
   ā€œHookups.ā€ I scrunched my nose, catching her eyes in the mirror.  
   ā€œYeah, you know, burn off some steam. Sex releases anti-stress chemicals to your brain, you know, and people who have an orgasm within thirty minutes of having a test perform up to five points higher. Five points! You need to fuck off some steam, Carly.ā€
   ā€œOh my God.ā€ I covered my face with one hand as she continued to curl random sections of my hair.  
   ā€œI mean it. Whenā€™s the last time you got any play at all?ā€ She twirled a soft lock at my face, adding a wave until it lay nicely with the rest.  
   ā€œUhā€¦ā€ I paused, pushing back through old dusty cobwebs to the last time Iā€™d even let a man kiss me. ā€œFreshman year, maybe?ā€
   ā€œOh my God. Youā€™re practically a born-again virgin. We need to get you that app.ā€ Selma set the wand down on the counter. ā€œFinished.ā€
   I glanced up, shocked sheā€™d curled my entire head of hair and was now separating the ringlets until they were only softly defined and falling over one shoulder.  
   ā€œYour hair looks too good to waste.ā€ Selma swiped my phone and held it up. ā€œSmile, and give me that look in your eye.ā€
   ā€œWhat look?ā€
   ā€œThat one that says youā€™re really horny but still a good girl.ā€
   I narrowed my eyes.  
   ā€œNo, that looks like you might swipe their wallet when theyā€™re finished. Softer. Less murder-y, more seductive.ā€
    ā€œSelma!ā€ I squealed, swiping the camera just as the flash went off.
    ā€œWait, let me see. That was a good one!ā€ Selma pulled the phone from my hand, swiping to the last picture taken. ā€œLook.ā€ She thrust the picture into my face. ā€œYou look fucking hot. Letā€™s find you a man tonight.ā€
   ā€œNo, Selma.ā€ My asshole friend spun, my phone in hand, and shuffled out the bathroom door, her fingers tapping a hundred words a second as she went. ā€œSelma!ā€  
   She stopped dead in her tracks, turned to me in the middle of my studio apartment kitchen, and handed me the phone. ā€œThere.ā€
   Her smile was big. I wanted to bitch-slap it off her face.  
   ā€œWhat did you do?ā€
   ā€œCreated your account, uploaded that pic. Now youā€™re ready to swipe your way to a lay, baby.ā€
   ā€œJesus, Selma. Why are we friends?ā€
   ā€œProbably because I challenge your very boring and predictable nature.ā€ She twirled a fresh curl at my temple. ā€œAnd you love me.ā€
   I only grunted in reply, my eyes focused on the screen, the first handsome candidate to show up on my phone. ā€œI have no idea what Iā€™m doing.ā€
   ā€œSwipe left. He looks like a businessman wannabe.ā€
   ā€œWannabe? What are you, an expert at typing men on this thing?ā€
   ā€œSwipe enough.ā€ She shrugged, peering over my shoulder to glance at the next potential date.  
   ā€œEw!ā€ We both swiped left, clearing the older gentleman with the overgrown mustache off our screen.  
   ā€œHeā€™s not bad.ā€ Selma paused on the third, tilting her head. ā€œIf you squint.ā€
   I groaned, swiping left. Then left. Then another left.  
   ā€œIā€™ve learned one thing from this app tonight,ā€ I said.
    ā€œWhatā€™s that?ā€ Selma was swiping left for me, the frown growing deeper with every swipe.  
   ā€œThat weā€™re surrounded by a million really creepy guys. Itā€™s no wonder I havenā€™t found a date in ages.ā€
   Selma nodded, taking in my words. ā€œMaybe itā€™s time I move. When I visited my cousin in Denver, you should have seen the hot guys. Like, h-o-double-t hot.ā€
   ā€œWell, Iā€™m deleting it. All thatā€™s on here is mountain men and college guys looking to score more action. Not interested.ā€  
   ā€œWait, what about him?ā€ She paused, thumb hovering over the handsome face lit with a one-sided cocky smile. His eyes were a clear shade of ocean blue, hair dark and a little mussed, with a dark smattering of sexy five-oā€™clock shadow across his angled jaw.  
   ā€œNuh-uh. Heā€™s married.ā€  
   ā€œWhat? No way! What makes you say that?ā€ Selma squinted, as if trying to read the signals through the screen.  
   ā€œBecause no man that beautiful is still on the market at his age.ā€
   ā€œHis age? Heā€™s like thirty-five, tops,ā€ she scoffed.  
   ā€œExactly. Married, divorced with kids, something.ā€
   ā€œWell, okay, then. What do you care? This is just a hookup anyway, remember? Not like you have to worry about him proposing on the first date or anything.ā€
   ā€œSelmaā€¦ā€ I groaned, ready to swipe left on his gorgeous, smug ass.  
   ā€œNope.ā€ Selma slid her thumb across my screen, swiping right. ā€œGot him.ā€
   She grinned up at me triumphantly.  
   ā€œOh my God, what are you doing!ā€ I wiped left, left, up, across. ā€œWhere are the settings? Can I undo that right swipe?ā€
   She laughed, walking back down the hall to the bathroom. ā€œNope. No undoing!ā€  
   I followed quickly on her heels, stopping right next to her in front of her post at the bathroom mirror. Just then, the little app chimed in my hand. An alert popped up that said a match was made.  
   Oh, shit.  
   ā€œOh, you are such an asshole, Selma Martinez.ā€
   ā€œYou got a match! That means he likes you, too.ā€ She nodded, taking every second of this painfully embarrassing moment in stride.  
   ā€œThat wasnā€™t even a good picture of me! I hate you.ā€
   ā€œOr you could say thank you.ā€ She winked. ā€œNow send that boy a message.ā€
   ā€œWhat? No way. Iā€™m not interested. Maybe you should go out with him.ā€
   ā€œNah, Iā€™ll take one for the team. Your vag needs some love, and I think Mr. Sex right there is going to give it to you.ā€
   ā€œIā€™m not going.ā€
   ā€œYouā€™re an idiot if you donā€™t.ā€
   I nearly replied that she was an idiot for even downloading the app when another chime popped up.
    New message alert.  
   ā€œOh Jesus.ā€
   ā€œOoh, heā€™s really into you.ā€ Selma snatched the phone from my hands and opened the message.  
   ā€œWait! Donā€™t answer it!ā€
   ā€œToo late, it already shows him that Iā€™ve seen itā€”or youā€™ve seen it.ā€ She waggled her eyebrows at me. ā€œIt says, Would love to meet tonight. Iā€™ll just replyā€¦ā€ She started tapping at warp speed.  
   ā€œNo! No!ā€ I yanked my phone from her. ā€œDonā€™t reply.ā€  
   ā€œWell, you have to. Otherwise, that would just be rude.ā€
   ā€œRude. Like I care if Iā€™m rude to a stranger, Selma!ā€ I couldnā€™t contain the shrieky frustration lacing my voice.
    ā€œWell, I just wasnā€™t raised that way, stranger or not.ā€
    I shook my head, finding myself again stupefied by all things Selma. ā€œYouā€™re unbelievable.ā€
   She caught my eye in the mirror, refusing to say a word. I narrowed my eyes, taking in the stubborn set of her jaw, the way her eyes flared with simmering irritation.  
   ā€œFine. Iā€™ll answer him. Iā€™ll tell him he was a mistake swipe or something.ā€
   ā€œWhat? You canā€™t say that.ā€
   ā€œWhy not?ā€ There were too many rules for online dating, exactly the reason it was better Iā€™d avoided it.  
    ā€œWay to kick a guy when heā€™s down. No, I would not like to see you tonight. Actually, I think youā€™re a dog and wouldnā€™t touch you with a ten-foot pole. Have a nice night!ā€  
   ā€œWell, I wouldnā€™t be that harsh.ā€
   Selma shook her head, finishing one last curl in her hair before placing the wand on the counter and unplugging it. She spun, pushing fingers through her hair until the curls bounced and bobbed with enviable volume. ā€œTell him the truthā€”youā€™re a busy college student with a very large stick up your ass.ā€
   ā€œAnd with a nosy friend who doesnā€™t know how to keep her hands off other peopleā€™s property,ā€ I chimed in.  
   ā€œSounds about right. Listen, chicaā€¦ā€ Selma paused, catching her reflection in the mirror and adjusting her boobs in the cups of her bra to get more oomph. Her word. Not mine. ā€œIā€™ve got to meet Pratt outside in twenty minutes. I hope you give yourself a break tonight. You deserve it. Give that vag a little workout, and youā€™ll feel better in the morning.ā€ She spritzed some of my perfume in a cloud around her. ā€œIā€™ll call you later when I get homeā€¦or in the morning.ā€ She paused. ā€œIt probably wonā€™t be until the morning.ā€ She winked, then placed a kiss on my cheek. ā€œLet loose tonight, Carly. God knows you need it.ā€
   She turned, blowing me one last kiss before sauntering out of my apartment in her chunky, laced boots and skirt.  
   I glanced back down at my phone, then to the puppy pajamas that fell to the tops of my bare feet.  
   I sighed.  
   I did need some fun.  
   I was ready for a life outside of textbooks and professors and exams and essays.  
   I hovered over the keyboard, not knowing what in the hell to say before I typed quickly.  
   Sure. Where and when?
   Before I could think twice, I hit send.
   Maybe Selma was right. If I didnā€™t use it, I would lose it. Perhaps not so much my vag but my sexuality, my sense of self, my free spirit.  
   I grinned, shutting down the app and tossing it on the bed, not caring if the handsome guy with the cocky smile ever replied or not. I was having fun making the butterflies in my stomach jump all on my own.

Aria Cole is a thirty-something housewife who once felt bad for reading dirty books late at night, until she decided to write her own. Possessive alpha men and the sassy heroines who love them are common, along with a healthy dose of irresistible insta-love and happily ever afters so sweet your teeth may ache.

For a safe, off-the-charts HOT, and always HEA story that doesn't take a lifetime to read, get lost in an Aria Cole book!
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