Page 22 of Love You Madly

Haha! Called you out man!

Luke:

Maybe… Does that mean that you’re going to text her?

I groan, shaking my head with a smile. Luke can’t help himself. He lives for this kind of teasing.

Me:

I’ll think about it... But she didn’t give you her phone number. So don’t be a douche canoe.

Will:

He’s already a fucking douche canoe.

Luke:

Again, fuck you, Will!

Luke’s text is quickly followed by him sending a series of middle finger emojis in Will’s direction.

Luke:

And fine, I won’t text her until she gives ME her number. KIDDING. Just don’t overthink it. Life’s too short, man.

I stick my phone in my pocket only to have it buzz again a moment later. I reopen the group chat to see Luke has sent a GIF of Rob Schneider fromThe Waterboypopping up on my screen, his iconic “You can do it!” on repeat.

I roll my eyes before typing out a reply.

Me:

Wow, Luke, truly inspirational. Now, I’m ready to take on the world.

Just as I hit send, there’s a knock at the door. I open it to find Will, grinning like an idiot, holding a bag of takeout from Cedar Bend Bistro.

“Morning, sunshine,” he says, lifting the bag in greeting. “Thought you could use some hangover food, so I grabbed you a breakfast burrito.”

I laugh, stepping aside to let him in. “You know, if you keep bringing me breakfast, I might not have to start dating again.”

He chuckles, setting the bag down. “Wouldn’t want to deprive you of that, but I can’t have my best friend starving. Plus, who else would listen to my dating disasters?”

We sit down at the table, the aroma of fresh food filling the room. The burrito is exactly what I need, hearty and comforting. Will’s presence is steady, the kind of support you don’t always realize you need until it’s right in front of you.

“So,” he says, biting into his burrito, “what’s the plan for today?”

I shrug, swallowing a mouthful of food. “Not much. I’m picking up Barrett from Mom’s soon, maybe taking him to a movie or something later.”

“Ah yes, the thrilling life of a single dad,” Will says with mock sympathy. “I bet the laundry and dishes are just begging for your attention.”

I smirk. “You know it. I’ve got a hot date with the vacuum cleaner.”

Will snorts, nearly choking on his coffee. “Call me if it gets too wild. I’ll bring reinforcements—maybe a mop and some disinfectant.”

“Don’t forget the French maid costume,” I joke, rolling my eyes.

He grins, leaning back in his chair. “Speaking of hot dates, did you ever decide what to do with Heather’s number?”

I glance at the napkin still on the table, feeling the weight of his question. “I’m on the fence about it.”

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