Page 44 of The Valentine's Bet

Because who needs toactuallywatch a movie these days?

But hey, it’s a job, and I’ll give it my all.

As my morning meeting with Raymond comes to a close, my stomach grumbles. I make my way down the fluorescent-lit hallway to the break room, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the air as I open the door. I grab a packet of apple cinnamon instant oatmeal from the pantry and pour it into a mug along with some hot water before making my way back to my office, the warm mug cupped in my hands.

The scent of cinnamon is a small comfort as I sit back down at my desk, staring at the flashing cursor on my computer screen. A sobering reminder that I haven’t gotten much ofanythingdone today.

I need to be working.

I need to be doing anything other than thinking about what happened between Amy and Idaysago. I haven’t even talked to her since then.

Which is kind of a jerk move.

But I seriously don’t even know what to say to her.

I mean, I don’t even know why I kissed her.

Why did I kiss her?

I think back on the moment and the way she was just staring at her watch, counting down like she expected something magical to happen as the clock struck midnight...

And I just ...didit.

Maybe it was the champagne. Or maybe it was the fact that I ruined her date. I know for a fact that douchebag, Josh, would’ve kissed her without a second thought—but it was safer formeto be the one who did it. I could do it and not take it too far.

I was her first kiss.

And for some reason, that makes me feel some kind of way, which is so stupid. Maybe Idoneed to date around a little bit. Maybe it’s just beenthatlong since I’ve kissed someone that it’s getting under my skin more than it should.

Then again, the idea of dating sounds awful.

My mind just keeps running back to kissing Amy again—to what I could’ve done. Like pushing her up against the wall outside of her apartment and letting my mouth travelwellbeyond hers.

This is bad.

Thisis so bad.

I need to stop this.

The distance between us must’ve triggered something in my brain. Maybe I just need to see her again, and then I’ll be reminded of how insufferable she can be—and how desperate she can be. It’s a win-win.

That’s what I’ll do.

I navigate to Google and go digging for another singles event. After all, I know Amy won’t say no to that. She’s probably already been to ten of them since New Year’s...

Yikes.I don’t like that thought.

My eyes land on an ice-skating night. I click over to it and read the details. It’s a pretty laid-back event, which is more my style. So, I pull up the link and then text it to Amy.

Me:Wanna go to this??

I hit the send button and then set my phone back on my desk, my foot tapping against the floor as I wait for her response.

Granted, she’s at work.

Maybe she doesn’t check her phone while she’s at work...

Jeez, what’s wrong with me today?

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