I was bored, so I got on Instagram, where I saw him. Everything about his physical appearance ticked all my boxes. He was tall, had a chocolate complexion, was bald, with a beard that invited you to play with. His broad chest and chiselled abdomen were a testament to his dedication to fitness. The man also had piercing eyes that made them alluring yet dangerous.
I felt the butterflies in my belly. The man looked like the gods themselves took time to carve him out. So the logical next step was to find who this was. The man had a name; Chris. I saw him in a friend’s picture, and I quickly sent him a request. I hadn’t seen such a gorgeous man in so long. His account was private, so I had to wait for him to approve my follow request.
An hour later, I got the notification. I was literally screaming. Without wasting time, I got to ‘stalking’ him on his page. The dude just got cooler. He had pictures of him riding a motorbike. There were many travel and adventure photos too. From his timeline, he was full of life. There were hardly photos of him with girls, and I couldn’t spot any in his comments either. I was yet to decide what that indicated, but I thought that was a positive indicator – I was wrong.
Like a woman living in an age where you can shoot your shot, I took that bold step. Now, I couldn’t decide whether to pretend to be interested in motorbikes or fitness. I was sure he got girls swooning over him for his looks, and I needed something that got me noticed. I decided to ask for the location details from one of his photos.
It worked. We started chatting, and the frequency of chats graduated from every three days to daily. I had just started a short-time-intense job, so I didn’t have free time to meet up. On Chris’ end, he kept telling me that he would be travelling out of the country at the end of the month, so he really wanted to spend time with me.
Meanwhile, thoughts of Chris consumed me. I frequently shared his photos with my friends. He not only looked breathtakingly handsome, but he was also witty and funny. I found myself smiling or laughing hard any time we had a conversation.
As fate would have it, I was finally available to meet him the day before his travel plans.
“Hey, some good news, I could meet you tomorrow,” I texted him.
“Finally! I get a chance to enjoy your company,” he said excitedly.
He suggested we meet at my place because he would have packed up stuff at his house in preparation for his time away. It made sense at the time, so I agreed.
I cleaned up the house and made sure I looked dashing. I wanted to look like I was worth the wait. He showed up at exactly 8:30 p.m. with dinner in hand and a bouquet of flowers. “A gentleman,” I thought.
It was awkward for a few minutes, but the bottle of wine quickly rectified that. We talked for about an hour as we had dinner and then moved to the next part of the evening. He looked even more handsome in person than he did in his pictures. As I suspected, he was wild and adventurous in other aspects too. The night was better than any Mills and Boon novels I had read.
He left at around five in the morning, but I had no problem since he had already told me he would be travelling. I went back to sleep. When I woke up, I was still caught up in the previous night’s thoughts. I grinned sheepishly, reminiscing every single moment. The scent of his cologne still lingered. I could still feel the grasp of his strong arms and could visualize his crooked, cheeky smile every time he wanted to do something wilder than the last idea. I thought that was the best night of my life and the beginning of something special.
This soon changed after I went online. I texted him on WhatsApp to ensure he got to his place safely and his travel plans were going on well. I sort of panicked when I couldn’t see his display picture, but I told myself that maybe he had just removed the image. Shortly after, I discovered that I had been blocked. It made no sense. I quickly went to Instagram, and my heart sank when I realized that the same fate had befallen me.
“But would he block me after the kind of night we’d had?” I wondered. For about two hours, I struggled with the idea that his goal all along had been to sleep with me and then go, and I had fallen for it. The feelings this idea elicited made me hesitate to tell my friend what had happened, but I needed to know what was happening. So I asked my friend to follow his close friend on Instagram to see if we could find out anything.
The friend quickly accepted the request. Lo and behold! The answers were right there. It was Chris’ wedding day.
My friend sent photos of Chris in all his glory. He wore a well-fitted navy blue suit with a crisp white shirt. For a minute, I got lost in naughty thoughts until I remembered what he had done. For all I know, I could have been his bachelor’s party ‘stripper’. I was his ‘one last one’ before marriage.
After that incident, I swore off handsome men from social media.
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