Page 37 of How to Lose a Pack in 10 Dates

I blink. “Didn’t you?”

She stares at me, and I panic. My brain practically melts to mush.

“Also, you—uh—you’re into cult documentaries, right? And novelty shops? And… chinchillas?”

She sets down the menu very gently.

“Chinchillas,” she echoes.

“Yeah. Yours was named Pickle?” I frown. “Not real, obviously. A fake chinchilla. Imaginary pet. Possibly… haunted plush toy? I wasn’t clear on the backstory—”

“Cam.”

Her voice is soft.

Her smile is pretty.

Her eyes saythis is how men die.

“Yes?” I squeak.

“Who told you about Pickle?”

I blink.

Sweat may or may not be forming behind my knees.

“I just thought… maybe you’d mentioned it…”

“Oh?” Her lashes flutter. “I mentioned animaginarychinchilla, did I?”

“Maybe… in passing?”

“In passing.” Her tone is sweet as poison. “The fake chinchilla. That I toldyouabout.”

I grip my glass of water and swallow thickly. “Okay. So technically it came up during a… helpful conversation.”

She tilts her head the other way. “Helpfulhow?”

“Like—briefing helpful. Pre-date briefing, specifically. Emotional reconnaissance, if you will.”

Her brow lifts. “Emotionalwhat?”

Shit.

I try not to look like I’ve just stepped on a verbal landmine.

“I just mean that… someone may have… helped me brainstorm.”

“Uh-huh.” She rests her chin on her hand. “Was this person tall, broody, and fond of both dramatic exits and sour facial expressions?”

“Okay: it was Wes!” I confess, hands flying up. “Wes told me. It was all him. I was just trying to be prepared! You’re very pretty and I panic!”

She hesitates for a long, drawn-out moment.

“Let me get this straight: you memorized my likes and dislikes toimpressme.”

“Yes?” I say, voice cracking. “Also! He said you hated coriander and slow walkers. And clowns. And people who say ‘no offense’ before being incredibly offensive?”

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