Page 5 of 10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

I have to wait for our waiter to take our order before typing back. I’m not even sure I ask for the tacos I like, preoccupied as I am.

Me: Would Friday after five work?

“What’s he saying?” Iggy asks, sipping his water.

“We’re figuring out a time to meet.”

I nearly fumble my phone when another text comes through.

Brad: Works for me! I live down the street, so text me when you’re on your way, and I’ll walk over. Can’t wait to see you!

“We’re meeting Friday night,” I tell Iggy, nearly lightheaded with the way my pulse is still racing.

My cousin slaps my chest again. Repeatedly.

“All right, all right,” I mumble, batting his hand away, even as my lips quirk.

“Look how excited he is,” Iggy says, sounding amused. “He’s like a puppy.”

I glance out the window again. Brad has a huge grin on his face as he stretches his hamstrings, his head bobbing back and forth like he’s singing a tune to himself.

He does look like a puppy, if said puppy had the most gorgeous green eyes I’ve ever seen and the sleekly muscled body of a grown-ass man.

If Brad is this excited, though… Well, maybe this could mean more to him than a quick fling after all.

I try to quell my own ridiculous smile, but I’m not sure I manage it. I shoot Brad one more text before setting my phone aside, determined to keep my cool until Friday.

Me: Looking forward to it.

When I get to the gym Friday after work, my eyes sweep the room on autopilot. I don’t see Brad, but he texted that he was on his way, so I drop my bag off in the locker room while I wait for him to arrive.

I’m just settling in to warm up at the treadmills when I spot him heading my way.Christ, he’s pretty. Those light, piercing eyes framed by thick, dark lashes. The expressive eyebrows and lips seemingly always tipped into a smile. The dark hair and coarse stubble that makes him look older than that boyish grin would suggest.

“Hi,” I say rather eloquently, waiting atop my treadmill as Brad comes to a stop in front of me.

He holds up his hand for a high five. “Joe-bro! How’s it going? You look good,” he says rapid fire, blatantly eyeing me up and down in a way that has my pulse tripping. “Not too tired after your day?”

I dutifully slap his palm as I sort through his greeting. “Not too tired,” I assure him. “You look good, too.”

“Thanks, man.” He shoots me a smile as he steps up onto the treadmill next to mine. “I’m glad you texted. I needed this. Been on my ass since breakfast.”

Brad starts up his machine, and I follow suit, setting the pace for a slow jog. “What is it you do, exactly? For your non-office office job?”

He snorts a laugh. “I work for this gaming company called DreamWyld. Ever heard of it?”

“Uh, yeah,” I say slowly, wondering who hasn’t. “Run, Run, Ricochet? I love that game.”

“Dude! Me, too,” Brad says, jogging now beside me. “It’s my favorite. I helped design it.”

“Holy crap,” I say, startled enough for my feet to miss a step. I recover quickly. “That’s…awesome.”

“You think so?” he asks, shooting me another grin.

“Yeah,” I tell him, meaning it. I can’t even imagine the complexities that go into video game design. “So you get to, what, play video games all day?”

“Yup,” he says, nodding his head several times. “Well, mostly. There’s some other stuff in there, too, but I stay pretty rooted to my computer, you know? Which is why this feelsso nice.”

I chuckle at his happy groan. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone as enthusiastic about working out as Brad.

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