Racing Hearts

Chapter 1- Valentine's Day

I hate Shakespeare and Gosling and cakes with white frosting
Two names in a heart-shaped tattoo
I think cupid is stupid and violets are purple not blue
I hate catching bouquets, the honeymoon phase
And letterman jackets don't fit
Your eyes can't hold stars and you'd die if your heart really skipped.

"That's right Kelsea. Preach it babe." I said out loud to myself as I turned up the volume on my phone and began singing along to the Kelsea Ballerini song. It perfectly summed up my mood about today. I had never thought of myself as jaded. Quite the opposite actually. The truth was, I was a hopeless romantic who loved hearts and flowers and had dreamed of happily ever after, but I guess it just wasn't in the cards for me, so for today, I would allow some of the bitterness to seep in.

I set down the flat iron I was holding and peered into the mirror next to me and frowned. I was really too old for this shit. I thought I would finally have a boyfriend for Valentine's Day. Thirty three years old, and every Valentines Day I spent alone. I thought this one would be different. I thought Derek would be different, but he was just another two timing loser like all the others. However, I was not staying home this Valentines Day. So what if I had to sit in a bar drinking all alone, I was not staying home.

I finished flat ironing my dark blonde hair and frowned at my reflection. Was that a grey hair? Ignoring every bit of advice warning against plucking grey hairs, I thought fuck it all and yanked it out. I stared critically at my reflection. Long blonde hair, green eyes, good skin. Not bad. My body didn't look half bad either. Perky tits, decent legs. Even I had to admit my ass was pretty damn good. I didn't look like a total disaster, so what the hell was so wrong with me that I could not keep a guy for more than a couple of months? They all told me I was beautiful, but was my personality so awful that they just couldn't stand to be around me?

Fuck all of them. Surely there was some guy out there who was spending Valentines Day alone. Someone who might like some company. Maybe a little more.

After finishing my hair and makeup, I stepped into the form fitting, off the shoulder red dress and matching heels. I was going out tonight by myself, but hopefully, I wouldn't be coming home alone.

While waiting for my Uber to arrive, I got a notification from Instagram. What an ass. Derek was showing off the little twit he had dumped me for. She barely looked legal, but he was wining and dining her in the photo he snapped in a very expensive restaurant. I had seriously been dumped for a much younger model.

I clicked on his profile and hit the unfollow button, something I should have done days ago. I didn't need anymore notifications from him showing off his new play toy. I just needed to get laid and put him out of my mind once and for all.

********

The bars were crowded as I expected. I knew the Daytona 500 was this weekend. Even though I had never watched a single race, I had lived in the Daytona area long enough to know what kind of attention the big race drew, and I was feeling pretty confident that I could find just what I was looking for despite the fact that it was Valentine's Day.

I sat down, ordered a drink, looked around the crowded bar and groaned. This was not what I was hoping for. Yes there were plenty of guys, but pretty much the same middle age drunks with beer guts and poor hygiene. Maybe this was a bad idea. I should probably just cut my losses and go home to the real men in my life. Ben and Jerry. They had never let me down. Maybe some fudge brownie or Chunky Monkey would soothe my soul.

I sucked down the rest of my drink and took out my phone to call for an Uber, but the bar was so loud I couldn't hear anything. I picked up my purse to make my way outside, and as I was walking out the door, I collided with someone who was walking in. If he had not reached out to grab me, I would have landed right on my ass.