Page 52 of The Match

I roll my eyes and turn around to return to my seat next to Jo. “Go away, Tyler.”

He chuckles and tries to catch my arm, but I’m faster. “Wait. Don’t you want this phone number? I’d be willing to paste it back together for a kiss.”

I would tell him he could kiss my butt, but he would likely just treat it like an innuendo and say something that grosses me out. “Nope. Don’t need it. And now you’ve filled your douchebag quota for the day, so you can scurry on back to the vermin hole you climbed out of.” Charlie and I are weaving in and out of tables, and unfortunately, Tyler is keeping pace with me.

“Why don’t you need it? Have you finally decided to marry me after all?”

When I walk up, Jo hands me my phone and, before she realizes Tyler is right behind me, says, “Jake texted you something sappy again, and I asked him to send a picture of his backside.” I know she’s kidding, so I don’t press it. At least . . . I hope she’s kidding.

But I really wish that she hadn’t just mentioned Jake’s name in front of Tyler. It’s not that I think Tyler is some crazy guy from the movies who will kidnap me and stuff me in his trunk until I agree to marry him, but I do know that he’s enough like my parents to go to extreme manipulative measures to get what he wants. He’s always been that way. It’s why he’s such a good attorney.

“Wait, who’s Jake? Don’t tell me my Evie Grace has a boyfriend,” Tyler says, coming to stand far too close to me. He’s like a pimple. I just want to pop him—or punch him, or step on his toes, or slap him—but I know that if I do, he’ll just get more inflamed and annoying. Best to ignore him and wait for the breakout to pass.

“I’m not yours, Tyler, and I never will be. Now leave me alone and find someone else to bug.”

“Come on, Eves. You know we’d be good together.”

“Do you seriously not think it’s completely bonkers to marry each other just because you own your dad’s portion of the business now?” I’m asking because I genuinely want to know. He and I have never seriously discussed this and part of me hopes there’s a sliver of a heart beating inside his chest.

“I think it makes sense. You know this life better than anyone else. You know what it takes to be a good wife to a man like me, and I know that you look ridiculously good in a cocktail dress. So, yeah . . . I’m willing to sign that contract.”

“You mean marriage certificate?”

“Same difference.”

“Go away, Tyler.”

He chuckles like he hasn’t heard a word I’ve said. Like he thinks I’m cute for turning him down. I swear, if he pats my butt like he did last time he came to visit, I will tear his favorite limb right off his body.

“Tell you what. If you’re so worried about it, let me take you out. I’ll wine you and dine you, and if you’re lucky, I might even f—”

“If you finish that sentence, I promise you I will dump this drink all over that fancy suit of yours.”

His eyes widen like I’ve just threatened to shoot him. Then he relaxes back into his sleazy grin and tugs on his suit lapels. “Your parents want this, Eves, and so do I. So, don’t think that by me walking away right now, I’m giving up. I’ll find a way to show you that us being together is the right choice.” He tries to kiss my cheek as he passes by me, but I turn my head away. And whoa, someone should tell that man that a spritz is all it takes. He is a walking bottle of cologne.

“Oh, I hate him,” says Joanna once Tyler is out of earshot.

“You and me both.” I turn around just as Tyler makes it to the far end of the restaurant and stands in line to order. I smile a big blinding smile and call out to him so the whole restaurant turns and looks. “Oh, Tyler! I forgot to say that the ointment you had me pick up for you is on your desk at work! The pharmacist said it should clear your rash right up but that sex is not advised for the first three weeks!”

I have the privilege of watching the scumbag’s mouth fall open, and the woman in front of him in line (whom he had just been checking out) turn her shoulder firmly away from him. Even from this far away, I can see his face turn beet red. And then, just as I had hoped, he steps out of line and leaves.

“That was too satisfying to watch,” Jo says and gives me a high five.

I should feel satisfied too, but I don’t. Because the only takeaway I have from this whole situation is that I have no idea what sort of relationship I have with Jake, and I really need to figure that out. Are we exclusive? Is he dating other people?

A minute ago, I was thrilled about my date with him. Now I’m feeling nervous. I can feel a big fat DTR on the horizon. It’s always awkward. But it needs to happen so I can know whether or not I should pocket phone numbers from cute strangers in the future.

CHAPTER 23

Jake

It’s Friday, aka a major day for me.

Not only is today the first time my daughter will spend the night away from home since being diagnosed with epilepsy, but also tonight I will have my first date with a woman other than Natalie in about eleven years.

As I’m searching through my closet for something to wear, I realize how out of touch I am. I think my mom got my birth certificate wrong, and I’m actually one hundred years old instead of thirty-three. Do I wear a T-shirt? Do I wear a tux? A tux is probably a little much.

Okay, breathe, Jake. You know you can’t wear a damn tux.

---