Page 27 of The Roommate Experiment

The next day, I meet up with my colleague for lunch as promised. Over Caesar salads, I show Clara my draft profile.

“Oh, Hunt, this is perfect.” She scrolls through my pics next. “Your bio is hilarious, and these pictures? Absolute fire.”

A smile breaks across my face, but my fingers fidget with the edge of my napkin. “You think so?”

“Absolutely. You’re going to have matches flooding in.” She hands my phone back, grinning. “And that’s great because online dating is a numbers game, Hunt. It sounds awful, but you’ve got to go on as many dates as possible.”

I wrinkle my nose. “That seems exhausting.”

Clara shrugs. “But it’s the best way to find someone you click with. Come on, let’s make the profile live and see if we’ve got any keepers.”

We spend the next half hour swiping through potential suitors, giggling at the more outrageous profiles. By the end of lunch, I have four dates, one each night from tonight through Friday.

Look at me, living my best rom-com dreams. I can almost hear the upbeat music in the background as the down-on-her-luck heroine turns around her sad love life. Should I get a makeover, too? Maybe not. At the rate I’m going, I’m pretty sure even Bridget Jones would tell me to slow down.

* * *

That night, back at the apartment, I rummage through my closet to find the perfect outfit for tonight. I settle on a sleek, black dress that’s at the same time simple but sexy. As I apply the finishing touches to my makeup, I hear the front door open and close. Dylan must be home.

I freeze, listening for any signs of Olivia tagging along. When I don’t catch her voice or laugh, I consider it safe to go.

Grabbing my clutch, I take one last peek in the mirror and give myself an encouraging nod.

The self-confidence lasts as long as it takes for me to step out of my room and almost collide with Dylan in the hallway. His eyes widen as they roam over me. “Wow, Hunt. You look… amazing. Where are you off to?”

He’s wearing a suit and looks like a hotshot banker fantasy in the flesh. My brain short-circuits.

“I’ve got a date tonight. And tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. All different guys.”

Oh my gosh, where is the sea witch?

Dylan’s eyebrows disappear under his blond fringe, a hint of something unreadable in his expression. “Well, good for you. I hope you have a great time.” He steps aside, letting me pass.

As I walk out of the apartment, I almost face-palm myself, then remember the fresh makeup and settle for an inward cringe. When will I ever stop acting like a total moron around Dylan?

14

HUNTER

The wine bar where my date has asked to meet is the kind of place I imagine corporate types frequent. Sleek, modern, with an air of sophistication that’s a little too forced. I spot Ethan sitting at a table by the window. He’s even more striking than his profile picture, with his perfectly styled sandy hair and impeccable suit.

As I approach, he stands up, flashing a polished smile and extending his hand. “Hunter, it’s great to meet you in person.”

“Likewise,” I reply, matching his level of formality. We sit down, and I barely have time to peek at the menu before Ethan launches into his first question.

“What’s your five-year plan?” His hazel eyes bore into mine, giving me the impression I’m in a job interview rather than on a date.

I blink, taken aback. “My five-year plan? Well, I haven’t thought about it…” I trail off, unsure how to respond. Does he mean in my personal life? Or professionally?

Ethan raises an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. “But how do you expect to move forward without a roadmap?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “I prefer to stay flexible?”

He frowns, clearly not satisfied with my answer. “Flexibility is important, but if it’s not paired with a solid plan, you’re drifting.” Ethan leans forward, his expression serious. “How about short-term goals, then, how do you structure them?”

I laugh awkwardly, hoping he’s joking. But the intensity in his gaze tells me otherwise. “How about we start with something a little lighter?” I suggest, desperate to steer the conversation in a different direction. “What do you like to do for fun? Any hobbies or travel plans?”

But Ethan seems uninterested in casual chatting. And after a while, he smoothly transitions back to the topic of productivity. “What’s your biggest time-management challenge?” He takes a precise bite of his avocado toast, waiting for an answer.

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