Eligible Receiver (Men of Fall #3)- S.R. Grey

Lonely Hearts Club

I ask myself, Where do lonely hearts go?

The answer is this: They go here, Becca.

With a quiet snort of acceptance of my lot in life, I make my way down the dimly lit center aisle of the old retro movie theatre on the outskirts of Columbus, Ohio.

With my oversized tub of buttery popcorn balanced in the crook of my elbow, I slip my black leather gloves into the pocket of my khaki trench coat. It’s hanging loosely on me since I unbuttoned it after I bought my ticket out in the lobby.

Stopping, I stare at the big movie screen.

A projection of the movie poster for a classic romance flick, one from the middle of last century that is playing tonight, flickers in the low light.

I’ve never heard of the film, but I needed something to do.

Otherwise, I may go crazy.

Why?

Because it’s freaking Valentine’s Day, my least favorite holiday of the year, and I have no one to spend it with.

Par for the course, Becca.

Sighing, I glance around.

I pretty much have my choice of seats, as the theatre is mostly empty.

I guess only us lonely hearts, losers-in-love types are here to watch a sad, sappy old black-and-white movie on a day devoted to love.

The smell of popcorn wafting up to my nose distracts me, and I gingerly dig in, grabbing a healthy handful.

Hey, don’t judge.

A girl needs to treat herself once in a while, especially when she’s feeling this sad and alone.

That is definitely me right now.

As I eat popcorn in the middle of the aisle, like a misfit fool, I try to figure out where I’d like to sit.

There are two middle-aged ladies at the end of a row close to the front, so yeah, not there.

There’s also a really old dude to my right, seated in a center spot.

No, not there either.

I glance over my shoulder to assess what’s available in the back half, and that’s when I spot someone in the last row, middle seat.

Hmmm…

It’s a guy, for sure. Though it’s hard to tell what he really looks like, especially since he’s dressed in dark clothes and has a ball cap pulled a little over his brow.

Still, I can see he’s young like me.

I’m twenty-five, and I’m thinking he can’t be that much older.

There’s an air about him too, a palpable sense of confidence, expressed in the way he’s seated, leaned to one side with a kind of cocky smile on his face.

We make eye contact.

Eek, he’s caught me looking back at him.

At least, I think he has.

In any case, I pretend to be deeply interested in the projector window way up high.

I’m so smooth.

Or so I think.

I guess I’m not, though, as when I venture another furtive glance at the man, it’s clear he’s smirking.

Whatever, dude.

I roll my eyes at him, hoping he can see.

I can’t lie, though.

My interest is piqued.

I mean, come on, this dude is at a theatre on Valentine’s Day, sans date, just like me.

Maybe we can start a lonely hearts club?

Sounds like a plan to me.

So rolling back my shoulders, I start toward the back row.

I may as well sit near this new potential inductee into my make-believe club.

As I close in, I’m afforded a better view of the guy.

And whoa, he is hot.

His eyes are dark in the shadows, so it’s hard to tell the exact color. But the little bits of hair sticking out from under his ball cap show me the shade is chestnut-brown.

And this guy has a nice muscular build.

I’m more interested now.

My best friend, Jodi, would be so proud of me, taking charge like this.

She’d probably say, “Go for it, girl. Sit right the hell next to him. You never know what could happen.”

Jodi is pretty much all about me finding a man these days. She’s worried there’s something wrong since I haven’t gone out on a date in months.

I sigh.

There is something wrong—I’ve lost my go-love mojo.

See, I used to be the biggest romantic, like, ever. I was a hardcore serial dater, looking for love, convinced I’d find it online. I belonged to so many damn dating sites that it wasn’t even funny. Some of them were downright bizarre.

One of the wackier ones was devoted to meeting your match via a blind date.

Looking back, it’s probably for the best that I removed my profile from that particular site.

Before I did, it actually worked out for Jodi.

Not that she was on it.

No, she just took my place on a blind date one fateful night and inadvertently met