Page 53 of Happily Never After

“You won’t be able to keep up.”

“Are there hats that fit your big head?”

“I’ll meet you in front of your building in fifteen minutes, wiseass.” Max got up and started walking, but he was going too fast for me to see more than just a blur of everything he was passing. “And you better start stretching.”

“See you in fifteen,jackass.”

He finally smiled then, one of his small, amused smirks, and it felt like success.

twenty-three

Max

“So if youlet me know when you’re going to be at your parents’ house, boom—I’ll ‘surprise’ you with a FaceTime call. Just all casual like, ‘Hey, I’m at Von Maur and can’t remember what size shoe you wear.’ And at nine a.m. on a weekday, when my boss is doing her coffee walkabout, you can ‘spontaneously’ FaceTime me to tell me a funny story about your drive to work.”

It was very possible that Sophie was some sort of a robot. Not only was she firing on all twelve cylinders for an early Sunday morning, basically giving me bullet points while we jogged the downtown streets, but she was freakishly fast and didn’t even sound winded.

“We can literally talk about whatever because the only thing that matters is thattheysee us FaceTiming, right?” She looked pleased with herself, though her eyes were covered by sunglasses, so I couldn’t see that twinkle of victory she got whenever she thought she was right. “And super-casual things, like picking up a pair of shoes for you, suggest intimacy without confirmation.”

“I actually need a new pair of dress shoes, so if you find yourself at Von Maur, buy me the shoes.”

“Size, please.”

“Fourteen.”

“I’m going to be mature and not make a penis joke.”

“You’ve already saidpenis, so why stop now?”

“Well, I just assumed that since you nearly aspirated your water when I mentioned sex yesterday, you might have a widow-maker right here on the sidewalk if I talk about your junk.”

I looked down at her, and she was smirking up at me like she’d just made some sort of power move.

“No, I’m actually fine with it. I’m not a creep, but ifyouwant to discuss, fire away.”

“I think we both know I cannot,” she admitted around a grin. “I’m far too HR to joke about genitalia in public.”

“But in private?”

“Just try and get me to shut up about dicks.”

I lost it at that, and it was fucking hard to run while cracking up. But Sophie was funny as hell. She came across as pretty type A (aside from her night of Twinkie tossing, but that had been tequila and grief induced), but she was quick with the jokes.

“Starbucks is a block away,” she said, the morning breeze playing with the blond strands that’d come loose from her ponytail. “So maybe we should stop and take some sort of an action shot to post.”

She’d tagged me on Instagram last night, just as I was getting home, so we now followed each other. And yes, I’d crept on her page again, but it’d only taken a second. Because unlike most people—me included—she hadn’t gone back after her breakup and scoured her ex from her account.

No, she’d just stopped posting entirely.

So her feed was still filled with pictures of Stuart, of selfies of them together, only now there was a picture of me right at the top.

Like a statement.

Which gave me some sort of satisfaction that I couldn’t explain as anything other than insane attraction to the first person I’d kissed since Lili.

That’s what I’d decided when I’d been unable to sleep last night because Soph was all over my mind.

Yes, she was gorgeous and funny and absolutely worthy of feelings.

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