Page 27 of The Valentine's Bet

“She’s really sweet,” Genna says as she sets our fresh coffees down on the table.

“She’s something,” I mutter, ripping my eyes from the hallway. “I’ll get these,” I add, pulling out my wallet and handing her my card. “Including the one that went cold.”

“You know Derek wouldn’t make you do that.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a business. Just let me pay for her coffee—both of them.”

She smiles suspiciously. “You’re sweet, too, you know...”

“Oh stop.” I shake my head. “It’s never happening with her.”

Genna gives me a smug smile and walks back toward the counter. I let out a sigh, not even realizing that Amy’s sliding back into her seat.

“What was all that about?”

I look up at her and shrug. “Nothing.”

Chapter Nine

Amy

Fancy cheese. Check.

Crackers. Check.

Salami. Check.

Chocolate-covered almonds. Check.

I continue through my grocery list, making sure I didn’t miss anything.

Lately, I’ve become a bit obsessed with making charcuterie boards for dinner, which is essentially just an adult version of a Lunchable. It’s also a great excuse to stuff my face with all my favorite foods and not feel guilty.

It’s been a rough week.

But hey, at least I don’t have to worryabout cooking for two.

I suppose that’s one perk of being single...

Not to mention, these simple piecemeal dinners are convenient to carry—and considering I sold my car before moving here, I pretty much walk everywhere now, so, it helps to keep things light.

Luckily my apartment isn’t far from the store—just a few blocks—and my brisk walks through the busy streets of Manhattan are starting to grow on me. The city has a rhythm all of its own, a heartbeat that pulses through the pavement and reverberates in the air. It’s chaotic yet strangely comforting being surrounded by a symphony of life—the honking cars, the chatter of pedestrians, the distant sirens—that somehow feels like home.

I make my way through the produce aisle with my grocery basket in hand, snagging a few grapes and strawberries to add some freshness to the board.

And as I turn the corner to head toward the checkout, I spot a man about my age, with an impressive beard and wavy dark hair. He’s standing in front of the frozen foods section, staring intently at a pint of ice cream.

He’s cute.

Like ... really cute.

His brow furrows in concentration, as if he’s trying to decipher the secrets of the universe hidden within the label. I can't help but steal glances at him as I make my way closer and start browsing the ice cream, trying to play it cool.

Our eyes meet briefly, and I feel a blush creep up my cheeks. Quickly looking away, I try to focus on the items in my basket, but my heart is pounding with nervous excitement.

Could this be one of those chance encounters that lead to something more?

I take a deep breath and gather my courage as he finally picks a flavor—mint chocolate chip—and places it in his basket.

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