OUT OF CONTROL

As I sat up in bed, a message pinged on my phone.

‘Hello, I hope you don’t mind me reaching out, but I couldn’t resist,’ it read.

I didn’t know the man who had sent it on Facebook, but I felt my cheeks flush crimson as I looked at his profile.

It said his name was Andrew Armstrong, 35 - and he was a right catch.

Good looking, he had dark brown hair and kind eyes.

I replied straight away.

‘Hi, no worries,’ I typed, pressing send.

Although we lived in the same area, Andrew was five years older than me, so I’d never heard of him before - he must have found me through his suggested friends.

We started chatting nonstop