Page 77 of Exes and O's

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“THIS IS PROBABLYa massive waste of time,” I grumble to myself as I hitSendon my subway commute home. I make a pact with myself that if he ignores my LinkedIn DM, I’ll take it as a sign to give up on love entirely and purchase a rescue dog who won’t break my heart.

Luckily, I have a brand-new audiobook to distract me while I await a response. This one is another second-chance reunion romance, about Shelley, a New York City socialite who goes back to her down-home roots after a scandal. Upon return, she discovers her ex-boyfriend, Kent, a muscly cattle rancher, has been running her late father’s farm.

When I return to the apartment, I hitPlaywhile I prepare a sophisticated dinner of chicken nuggets and curly fries. The narrator’s buttery smooth voice drowns out the noise of my excessive thoughts.

While I’m waiting for the oven to preheat, Trevor emerges from his bedroom and quietly begins rooting around the kitchen for his own food. The sultry, late-night-radio-show voice of my audiobook fills the dead air between us.

“Shelley gripped the base of his cock, feeling its pulse against her palm...”

He clears his throat behind me, chucking a head of broccoli onto his cutting board. “Whoa. What are you listening to?”

The bold voice plows forward with gusto, entirely shameless. “Kent let out a low, hungry growl as his eyes feasted upon her glistening...”

“My audiobook,” I say, my tone clipped as I arrange my nuggets on the pan in the shape of a heart.

He snickers and mutters something I can’t hear.

No fail, listening to sex scenes via audiobook is painfully awkward, even solo. Double the awkward when someone else is in the room. I go to hitPauseand shriek.

I have a LinkedIn notification. It’s a DM response. From Daniel.

If this were a movie, an upbeat pop song would fade in. Something with a heavy piano. Maybe “A Thousand Miles” by Vanessa Carlton or “Brighter Than the Sun” by Colbie Caillat. Regardless, it’s the sound of everything in my life finally coming together. The weight of my failed engagement with Seth, moving two times, my exes, and the emotional turmoil that is Trevor have seemingly dissolved now that I’ve finally made contact with Daniel.

Trevor’s too busy chopping his broccoli to notice my reaction to my phone. Either that or he doesn’t care.

I slink away to the privacy of my own room to read it.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 8

Daniel Nakamura • 7:13 P.M.

Hi Tara,

Are you kidding me? Of course I remember you. In case you forgot, I don’t like many people. You were one of the few. If you can believe it, I too was very uncool in high school. It might have been nice if we could have been uncool together, don’t you think?

You’re definitely right—I do not use my old email address anymore. Though Dragon Ball Z is still KEWL. I thought about writing you as well, but I figured you weren’t still at [email protected].

I plucked my first gray hair the other day. How did we get so old? Let’s catch up for dinner soon? Things are really busy with work, but I could make myself available this Friday or Saturday night, if you’re free?

—Your Best Friend, Daniel

Ps. I am so glad to hear from you.

You and me both, Daniel.

chapter twenty-five

I LOOK RIDICULOUS.” TREVORpouts at his reflection in the full-body-length gilded mirror, tugging at the fabric of his costume like it’s a monstrosity.

We’re at a costume rental store trying on our respective Disney getups, one of the last remaining birthday party planning tasks. Despite his admitted enjoyment ofTangled, Trevor is not enthused.

I pull the vest to center on his chest with a hard tug, taking a mental picture for safekeeping on days I need an instant mood boost. “Shut up. It looks amazing. Instant panty-dropper.”

Like the dashing and effortlessly charismatic Flynn Rider fromTangled, Trevor liberally fills out his impossibly tight pair of camel-colored pants. I’m tempted to bounce a coin off his ass. Like the monster he is, he somehow manages to pull off the ornate green vest better than cartoon Flynn.

He grunts, fussing with the front clasp. “Thisis a panty-dropper? Maybe in medieval times.”

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