Page 21 of Something Forever

Of course, I burn myself again, thinking about said jerk.

Once she arrives, we settle on the couch with a bottle of wine between us.

“Okay, Operation Matrimony is in action. What have you tried so far?” she asks, her tone serious.

“Mostly an embarrassing number of texts and calls to randos in my phone. Lots of getting hung up on. A few people calling me clinically insane.”

“Well, they aren’t wrong.” She smirks.

“Ha-ha,” I deadpan.

She chuckles. “This is harder than I thought it would be. You know what? We should just get you on Hinge. Put serious relationship and start swiping. Find someone who seems cool, intro the idea on date two or three… totally chill.”

“I already tried Hinge, and I chickened out. I barely swiped on anyone. Also, I don’t think there’s a chill way to ask someone to marry you on a third date.”

“Can you stop ruining all the fun?” Abbi groans. “Give me your phone. Let’s do it together.”

She takes my phone and makes me pick out my best photos while she answers all my prompts and starts swiping. I notice her thumb swiping right very often.

“Abbi, you can’t swipe right on everyone.”

“Why not? It doesn’t matter who he is. It’s not like he has to be hot or anything.”

“Why don’t you just marry me?” I groan. “It’s only three years.”

She throws daggers at me. “Shane definitely better have proposed by then. Sorry babe, but I’m spoken for.”

I groan, and she exits Hinge.

“Okay, time for Plan B. Let’s start calling your exes.”

“I only have one ex, Abbi, and you know there’s no way I’m calling Christopher.”

“Fine, then let’s try my exes. One of them owes me a favor, I bet.”

“This is a pretty big favor,” I tell her. She scrolls through her contacts until she lands on one and holds it out to me.

“I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” she encourages me. “If anything, you should offer like, 100k or something. It’s hardly any of it, and I bet someone would do it for that little.”

“Not if they find out I’m getting a million,” I grumble.

She throws her hands up. “It’s not like you’re going to call him up and say ‘hey, I just inherited a million bucks from my granny, but I can only get it if I’m married. What do you say?’”

“Shh! My roommate is home,” I say in a low voice.

“Oh my God.” She glances down the hallway. “Why didn’t you tell me? He’s here? I want to meet him.”

“Trust me, you don’t.”

She rolls her eyes and points to the phone. Reluctantly, I press call and hold the phone against my ear.

“Put it on speaker!” she whisper-yells, grabbing for the phone, but I yank it out of her grasp. She throws her body over mine, reaching over my head to try and grab it, but I don’t let go.

“Stop it!”

“I want to hear!”

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