Page 105 of If Our Hearts Collide

I open my apartment door and gently close it, leaving Collins standing alone in the hallway like a real bodyguard.

Like a magnet, Luke finds me and drapes his arm over my shoulder in a poor attempt at being nonchalant. “Finally, we are free,” he says with a sigh, while giving me a side squeeze.

“Let’s pull out the cognac, order us some filthy porn—the kind you pay for—and send sexy selfies to our exes.”

Ducking out of his hold, I shake my head at him while laughing. “I need to leave.”

“What? No.” His words come out as a whine. “My carpal tunnel will have a flare-up without your supportive hand. Plus I don’t trust you with him.”

“Who? Collins?”

“Yeah. The man with the”—he taps a finger along his jaw—“umm…what’s one step up from resting bitch face?”

I giggle. “Probably intentional bitch face?”

“Yes. That’s a good descriptor. The man with the intentional bitch face…”

“He’s not that scary.”

“For a serial killer, sure…”

“Ha, he’s not that bad. He can be nice.” He just chooses not to be most of the time.

“Um, if you say so. That dude has the charisma of a robot and the personality of a hungry bear.”

I turn to look at Luke. “Huh. You are right. That’s oddly spot-on.”

“See? This is proof that we need to cuddle on the couch together and bond.”

Ignoring him, I slide my feet into my sandals and wiggle my fingers in a wave goodbye.

“You wound me. Don’t you know that kicking a man while he’s down just gives his eyes better visual access to your cootchie?”

My body whips around to stare right at Luke’s. When he sees me make eye contact, he quickly fakes looking sad. “It’s fine, it’s fine.” He holds up his hands. “Go have fun with Mr. Grumpy Fish. I don’t blame you. And in the famous words from Jimmy Letgo, ‘Savor something good.’”

“Umm, isn’t he the spokesperson for the fast-food chain, Rowdy Rowdy Chicken?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess he is. But he is basically a philosophical genius.”

“He’s featured as a cartoon character,” I deadpan.

“He is real!”

“I just can’t with you right now.”

When I make it back into the hallway, I’m nearly crying from laughter, which apparently is only adding to Collins’s bad mood. He gives me the once-over, focusing on my sandals.

My toes are painted in a pretty shade of pink.

“Do you approve of my footwear, sir?”

Ohhh. Now I get a glare to match his grumpy face.

Lucky me.

Apparently I’m on a roll of disappointing everyone I encounter today.

“They will suffice.”

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