Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I’m halfway up the sidewalk when I pull out my phone to check the time, and the notifications flood in.
Group Chat: Teachers’ Lounge Terrors
OMG!
Are you alive??
LUCKY BRANSON, WINNIE.
How did you do that??
I’m crying. Like, full-body goose bumps.
“What in the hell?” I mutter, forehead creased in abject confusion.
I flip to a message from my mom. Call me ASAP. Who is this man and why is he flirting with you on the internet?
I stop walking and blink in confusion. I glance around, seeking eye contact from someone who can reassure me that I’m not going crazy, because I don’t understand what’s going on.
And there she is… Kelsey—another kindergarten teacher, my school ride-or-die, and sometimes enabler of my poor dating decisions—running my way. I can’t help but smile as her jaunty fuchsia scarf trails behind her like a cape of super-powered excitement.
She practically skids to a stop beside me, her chest heaving. “You haven’t seen it, have you?” She sucks in a breath and blows it out. “Of course you haven’t. You didn’t respond to my texts. I sent like ten of them.”
“Seen what?” I ask, starting to feel like everyone has gone crazy. Even when my first video went viral, I didn’t receive this level of reaction, and I know inherently this has to do with my video from last night.
Her mouth drops open. “Oh my God. You don’t know. I can’t believe this is how you’re finding out.”
I grab her forearm. “Finding out what? Kelsey, you’re freaking me out.”
“He stitched you, Winnie.”
I blink. “He stitched me.” I say the words, hoping they make sense, but nope… not clicking. I shake my head. “Who stitched what?”
“Lucky Branson. The Lucky Branson. He stitched your TikTok dating challenge. And not like in a mocking way. In a hot, flirty, take-you-on-a-date way.”
My heart stutters, not because of Lucky Branson. I have no idea who that is, but I’m piqued by the “hot and flirty” nature. I never get that type of response from men and in a million years, I didn’t expect anything from last night’s post.
My natural skepticism shines through. “I’m sure it’s just someone playing with me.”
“No, it’s not,” she insists. She pulls out her phone, thumbs moving at lightning speed. “Watch.”
She holds up the screen and I see me first—my video, my rabbit, my voice from last night.
Then it cuts.
And suddenly, there he is.
Damp, wavy hair and brilliant blue-green eyes. I can’t see much but his shoulders, and he obviously doesn’t have a shirt on. Whoa… those are good shoulders decorated with a climbing vine of what looks like four-leaf clovers running up his neck. He’s staring into the camera with a smile that could bring down empires. He might be one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen, or maybe I’m just seeing that because everyone seems very excited by this stitch and I’m subconsciously buying into the hype.
“Lucky here—actual name, not just wishful thinking. Challenge accepted. I’m not perfect, but you won’t be sneaking out bathroom windows. I also bring snacks.” He leans closer, smile deepening. “Challenge accepted, Winnie.”
My stomach does a full somersault. My ears buzz. I forget how to breathe. The way he said my name… all deep and grumbly, like he was hungering for something.
No man has ever said my name like that.
I take Kelsey’s phone and watch the video again. His handle is @LuckyBranson69.
Second time watching it, a shiver shimmies up my spine.
He’s so… not normal or average.
Chiseled jaw. Crooked grin. Dimples that should require government approval as they could be a weapon. I’m so busy cataloging his features that I don’t quite understand what he’s actually saying.
“I—” I shake my head, dazed. “I think I blacked out halfway through that.”
Kelsey giggles, clutching my arm like I’ve won the lottery. “Right? I can’t believe this is happening to you. I mean… you so deserve it and I think you two would be a perfect match. So when are you going out with him?”
That penetrates my fog. “Huh?”
“Winnie! That was a date invitation. He’s accepting your challenge.”
I blink, staring at the frozen face of the gorgeous man named Lucky Branson. “You really think so?”
“Babe. He stitched you. That’s TikTok courtship. This is basically a proposal.”
“But why would he—” I stop mid-sentence, wondering at Kelsey’s excitement. Granted, he’s gorgeous, but people seem fixated on his name. As if… he’s famous? “Who the hell is Lucky Branson?”
Kelsey’s eyes flare wide in shock, her mouth forming into a perfect O of censuring surprise. “You seriously don’t know who he is? Lucky Branson. Hockey left-winger and a TikTok sensation.”
“I don’t watch hockey. Or sports, for that matter. And I’ve never seen him before.”
She gasps, hand going to her heart like I’ve personally offended her. “He’s a Pittsburgh Titan. You know… our professional hockey team. He’s, like, fan-favorite, viral hot guy. My sister sends me videos of him talking about his skin care routine in the locker room.”