Page 55 of Text Appeal

“Honestly, they often are. Guess I’ll be going straight to the second circle of hell when I die. That’s where all the lustful types end up apparently. I should be in good company at least.”

“So, you started writing young?”

“Yes. But I didn’t get serious and actually finish something until I was twenty. That’s when I kicked a heavy piece of furniture, broke my foot, and spent the summer working on my first full-length novel.”

“Did you mean to kick the piece of furniture?”

“No. I was at a party. Drinks were had.”

He checks out the room, smiling and nodding at various people.

“Go do your thing, Prom King,” I say with a grin. “I am fine here.”

“No rush,” he says. “You do know none of that matters?”

“None of what?”

“The prom king and captain of the football team and all that shit. It was so do-or-die at the time. But then high school ends and none of it matters. Not in the real world.” He shrugs. “A while after we graduated this guy said to me, those were thebest years of my life. He meant it too. Absolutely believed I was going to agree with him. I just thought to myself, you sad fuck. We’ve got another fifty or sixty years to go and you’ve already given up.”

“People are wild.”

“Yeah.” He stops and smiles. “It’s nice that we can be judgmental together. That’s something we can do as a couple.”

“We’re not even real and we’re already the worst. Go, us.”

He laughs and the sound is kind of great. I can’t help but smile. For real this time. Then he leans closer and says, “You smell different.”

“New perfume.”

“Mm.”

“I am starting to think olfactophilia is your thing. Though that kink is about the scents emanating from the human body while you tend to notice my shampoo and stuff.”

“Huh,” he says.

I look up at him and he looks down at me and for a moment, it seems as if he might kiss me. His gaze drops to my lips and stays there. Like he’s absolutely going to kiss me regardless of me babbling about weird shit. Which would be fine and perfectly pleasant. The kissing thing, I mean. But I had a long talk with myself earlier while doing my makeup. A kiss will not get me all up in my feelings again. We’re finally in a place where the fake dating works for both of us. It’s inspiring my work and it’s freeing him from the shackles of his ex. Neither my heart nor my vagina are allowed to fuck this up.

Instead of kissing me, however, he takes another step back. The smile on his face is not believable in the least. Before I canask what’s wrong, he says, “I think I see some cheese on the table over there.”

“Ooh. Where?”

“The suit still fits,” interrupts his ex, out of nowhere. “You look really nice.”

Connor nods and says in a calm voice, “Ava.”

This just might be the first time I’ve heard her name pass his lips. But what’s interesting is how her thirsty looks and pleading tones have been dialed down. Her smile seems hopeful but restrained. Last night didn’t go her way. Neither did this morning. She seems to be accepting the inevitable, though I’m not dropping my defenses entirely.

“Riley,” she acknowledges me with a faint smile.

I give her one back.

“I wanted to apologize for the Coffee House this morning,” she says. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble between you and your mother.”

“You hired Nicole for your party, tried to talk Grandma into attending and then you brought my mom to a place where you knew we’d all run into each other,” says Connor. “And this was after stopping by work and attempting to sweet-talk Stu. You’ve done nothing but try to take advantage of the people around me since you got to town. Why should I believe you?”

“I honestly didn’t know Denise would get that upset. You know I love your mom.”

Connor grunts.

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