Almost Love

By Kate Sparrows

Have you ever tried dating? It’s hard. You have to put yourself out there and hope that someone likes you. Like, like-likes you back. Everyone know that if you’re gay or a lesbian that your global options are halved, and if you’re bisexual that you double your chances. At the end of the day, chances are that everyone will engage in sexual activities... but what if what you’re looking for isn’t sex?

Cora Valencia has had relationships in the past. Being a single lady, she wouldn’t have minded meeting someone that she really connected with. Her best friend thought she could use a good fling. Her family thought she needed a husband and to start a family. When she runs into a complete hottie in the grocery store, Cora couldn’t believe her luck. He actually wanted to take her on a date!

Everyone’s journey in life is different. We all want something different – and Cora’s about to learn what she wants.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Sparrows
• Release date: Apr 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781943797134

Kate Sparrows

Kate Sparrows is a Sassy Sue and a cynical, hopeless romantic. She dabbles in multiple genres, ranging from science fiction to mystery and romance. She enjoys leaving readers with unexpected turns and incorporating fringe subject matters. Aside from reading and writing, she enjoys playing video games, learning languages, and trying to sleep all day. She currently resides in the United States with her Pembroke Welsh Corgi, Roo.

Book preview

Almost Love

Kate Sparrows

Copyright © 2020 by Kate Sparrows.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Kate Sparrows; [e-mail]

https://www.facebook.com/ksparrows

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Cover Design: Lorena Martin

Almost Love/ Kate Sparrows -- 1st ed.

ISBN 978-1-943797-13-4

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Afterward

Coming Soon…

About Kate Sparrows

Acknowledgements

"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken."

- Oscar Wilde

Chapter One

The bed springs were creaking loudly, probably waking her neighbors. But that wasn’t going to stop what was going on in the bedroom. Cora knew pain, and she wasn’t one to stop short. Each loud creak cheered her on and only stopped after she gave it one last hurrah. With the last bit of strength, the button on her jeans slid into the hole and it was over. The zipper gave in next. As she sat up, Cora remembered her explicit interactions with a footlong meatball sandwich, a chocolate milkshake, and a side order of French fries. Worst of all was her lethargic end to the night passed out on the futon. Now she was forced to deal with the slight digging in of fabric around her midsection for an entire day. But she smiled proudly in the mirror as she tried to tame the wild mess now atop her head. At least she managed to squeeze into the skinny jeans. That was enough of a victory for today.

Of course, it was more or less a day to herself, but there were still errands to run. After all the years of watching her mother calmly tend to four children, run a household and keep the finances straight, you’d think that Cora would have this under control. But at twenty-six and – still – single, all that was in her refrigerator was an open jar of pickles and leftover Chinese take-out from at least two weeks ago. It was amazing that the white box hadn’t grown legs and devoured the pickles before making its escape. The cupboards bore a similar resemblance to a barren food wasteland. Today, Cora was going to fix that. Well, as long as there were still funds in her rather depleted bank account. There wasn’t much of a budget between nights at the club and moving to an apartment closer to her job in the city. But she was due for a raise… a year ago.

Cora grabbed her clutch purse to deposit the abused checkbook. With a quick stop at the mirror on the wall next to the door to make sure nothing had gone awry, she was out the door and into the brisk March morning. Brisk almost seemed like an understatement today. She turned down Atlantic Avenue, towards the bank on the corner. It offered a nice reprieve from the chill as she waited in line for the next available teller. For seven in the morning, more people should have been sleeping instead of trying to get on with their day. It would have made things go by quicker for Cora. The line seemed to be at least moving along. She stepped up to the teller’s window and surrendered her checkbook. It was a little trying on the nerves to wait as the woman typed in numbers or codes or chatted on instant messenger service – whatever she had to do to get to Cora’s account. Really how long could it take to look up one string of numbers? Cora just needed to know if she could afford to get anything other than dime packets of ramen noodles. The idea of all that sodium seemed to shrink her jeans from the future water retention.

The balance of your account is three hundred dollars and eighty-two cents. Are you planning on making a deposit or a withdrawal?

The teller was polite, but that was her job. Most likely she stood there secretly judging Cora. What was it this time? Single Latina mother struggling on welfare or maybe the nightly street walker? Not that Cora dressed provocatively. Her last boyfriend was the bearer of the unfortunate news that she had a look-a-like, whom just so happened to be in the porn industry. Not even the fact that Cora wore black horn-rimmed spectacles swayed the stereotypes and judgmental comments to her favor. In fact, maybe they worsened the case. Long Johnson’s Highrise was the film that said ex-boyfriend brought over for a romantic evening, hoping to score some roleplay. Cora wasn’t in the mood to follow her doppelganger and the night hadn’t gone well for him.

Withdrawal. Now the problem was a matter of amount. Rent was just paid and there were only a few bills coming in before her next paycheck. A hundred.

It was a nice number. To anyone bothering to listen, it wouldn’t sound like she just pulled out a third of her whole bank account. The teller counted it out in twenty-dollar bills before slipping it into an envelope and passing it through the slot in the window. Cora stored it for now in the clutch. She took one last warm, deep breath inside the hall of riches before heading out into the chilly day again.

After being wounded by the amount in her bank account, it was time for some retail therapy. It was a vicious cycle that Cora had no real intention of ending. She just liked the fashion and being able to express herself too much. It was a freedom that she finally felt that she had, and this had to be done right now. She didn’t want to tote around her groceries in the department store while she tried on shoes and tops and pants – perhaps in a slightly larger size.

Cora started by going into her favorite little store – Marvella’s. A real fashionista knew that the best and most unique items were in all the small specialty stores. Marvella’s seemed to have just a little bit of everything without it looking like a trashy thrift store – which were great in their own right.

She headed towards the subway, planning on taking the train to one of the better – and cheaper – markets. Or should she say mercado. In some ways, it really was better being Hispanic. For one – Goya – the cheaper versions of the same mass-produced foods, only better.

Shit.

Cora stopped halfway down the stairs. A neon yellow poster was the culprit. The subway line that would get her the closest to the mercado was closed this week for track repairs. She could take two other subways or a bus with a decent walk. Hell, she could even call an Uber. It just seemed like way more work than going the three blocks from her apartment to where the normal supermarket was. Cora reasoned that because she hadn’t found anything shopping that she could let herself buy the full priced food.

She grabbed a hand basket at the door on her way in and took a left, pass the shopping carts and the registers. Canned green beans were stacked in a pyramid – three for 99₵! Yea, she’d pass on the canned goods, and the vegetables too. There was a short list of basics that were added to the basket as she made her way around the store – wheat bread, milk, eggs, oatmeal. She laughed to herself when she subconsciously ended up in the aisle where the ramen noodles were stocked. It had to be muscle memory that brought her to this aisle and not cravings. Needless to say, that it lifted her mood to know that she wouldn’t have to stoop that low and she could get something more substantial in her belly – hopefully free of copious amounts of sodium too.

Cora headed towards the meat counter, deciding that she should splurge on herself with something good – and not frozen. There were plenty of choices, but she hadn’t decided what she would make. Steak was a little too fancy of an option. It would be easier to grab a burger at McDonalds. What she really wanted was empanadas, but she committed sacrilege every time she tried to make those. Cora – and her neighbors – were tired of hearing the smoke alarm go off. A good empanada was worth the sacrifice of time and torture of enduing a family dinner. Pork didn’t have a huge appeal. So, it was either spaghetti and meatballs or throwing something on a pizza. In the culinary world, that’s the best that Cora could do.

She decided on a package of Italian sausage, thinking that pizza would be a wonderful way to celebrate joining the eating world again. Plus, it could last two days if she didn’t inhale the whole meaty pie in one sitting. When she reached for a package, a voice spoke out.

I see you like sausage.

She turned to see a hot guy looking at her. The dark-haired god was probably just under six feet tall and built like a steamy dream. Her best friend, Clarice, would probably wager that he had the sexy vee on his hips and a happy little treasure trail that led down to the biggest dick ever. Clarice would probably go on about the sexcapades and the trouble she could get into with this one. Cora just knew this was probably the corniest pick-up line she ever heard.

Well, it is the best topping.

Topping, huh? The guy’s lips pulled up into a smirk. Just the way he said it oozed sexual innuendoes. Cora hadn’t caught on soon enough that she would be the pizza to his sausage topping on her. When she did, it kind of sucked. She had hoped that he was someone that wasn’t just interested in her looks or had seen her doppelganger’s pornos. But it also threw her mind in the gutter when she thought about what this guy might actually be able to do. Is that an invitation?

Oh, god, no, Cora blurted. She didn’t want him to think that she was just desperate woman that would jump anything.

His expression flipped and he just stared at her like she had three heads and was covered in neon feathers. Of course, she had three heads! He didn’t look like the type to ever be turned down and, yet, Cora had. It was unthinkable. Then he busted his gut laughing.

Good one. You had me going there. He reached out his hand. Dylan Haggerty.

Uh. This was definitely awkward. Cora wanted to slap away his hand for laughing at her, but it was just wounded feelings. It seemed like her chances were lost. And, seriously, when was the last time that a hot guy took interest in her? Shit. That was it. Cora stuck out her hand and shook his. Cora Valencia.

Pleasure. That sexy smile came back to his face and – the way he said it – Cora was sure that it could be. How about you let me take you out for some pizza action?

Guess guys nowadays were extra bold and stupidly blunt. Too bad she wasn’t up for a tumble between the sheets with… toppings. Cora knew she wasn’t one that really cared for one-night stands or even friends-with-benefits. That wasn’t her kind of thing. Even in a relationship, it wasn’t something she really needed – fantasized about, sure. Cora was still human. Even so, her ex-boyfriend only got as far as one pregnancy scare after forgetting to pull out to turn her off sex – and that had been with someone she trusted. That meant she wasn’t too eager for Dylan to have a go.

Forget the pizza, she started. He could probably forget any kind of sex plans he was thinking about. If he wanted that, he had to stick around and put in the work. Ever play mini golf?

Again, Dylan laughed. Seriously, did he think she was a joke? He didn’t need to laugh at everything she said. It made her believe that her ex-boyfriend may have really been onto something when she stopped fooling around with him. All those things he had said and called her those years ago where creeping back into her thoughts. There had to be a reason no other man showed interest, and it wasn’t just because she was a fashion whore and half broke. Her curvy size 14 hips and five-foot stature must have had something to do with it. She wasn’t the thin, pretty, athletic blonde that guys like Dylan dated.

You are just a bundle of surprises, huh? He was gently shaking his head, but there was a mischievous smile on his face. Before Cora could figure out what he meant, much less get a chance to ask, he said that he’s never been. And somehow, it was decided that it would be a date. Sure. Thursday night. I’ll meet you at Cubbie’s Putt Putts.

He reached for her hand, giving it a little squeeze. It sent a tingle along her skin. Why was he affecting her so much? Dylan was just a cocky stranger. Pulling a pen from his back pocket, he scribbled down seven digits on her palm. Text me so I can get your digits.

So, there was still a way out of this, if she came to her senses. Dylan had been so sure, so cocky. There was always that slim chance that he actually like her for her and because not taking the chance was a guarantee that nothing would happen. Or she could walk away, finish her shopping, and forget his sexy smile and that laugh. Besides, she was pretty sure that he was lying right now. If he never played mini golf then how did he know the name of the only putt-putt course in the city? He definitely didn’t seem the type that played that sport. Unfortunately, it was one of the very few sports that Cora could play without looking like a fool or a wildebeest shoved into a too-tight sport uniform.

Cora watched