Page 58 of The Odds of Happily Ever After
Holding the drink carrier out to me, he said, “Then this is yours.”
“Oh.” I took it because he knew my name. Was I supposed to tip him when I wasn’t the one who ordered? “Hold on?—”
“All good.” He waved his phone at me, then turned to leave.
I called out athank youand locked my door. Placing the carrier on the kitchen counter, I lifted one drink. The black pearls sitting at the bottom of the cup gave it away. I stared at it, puzzling out its presence.
Then it clicked.
Only three people knew I’d wanted a boba yesterday. One of them was on a plane to Manila and the other was attending press cons with her boyfriend in California. Which left one option.
Grabbing my phone, I called Gabe. “Did you send me boba?” I asked as soon as he picked up.
“You weren’t able to get one yesterday,” he said. Like it was common sense that he would get it for me today instead.
A lump settled in the base of my throat. “So you bought me two to make up for it?”
“I wasn’t sure if you still wanted it with coffee, so I got one with and one without.”
I dropped in a chair, my boba in one hand and my phone in the other.
I was definitely in trouble now.
chapter nineteen
gabe
Max
Did you do it?
Gabe
Yes.
Max
Finally. We should celebrate—drinks tonight?
Gabe
Alright.
Grabbing one ofthe beers the bartender set in front of us, Max raised it toward me. “Here’s to you, man. Last month of freedom.”
I clinked my bottle with his and took a long pull from it. He made it something sound more dramatic than it actually was, though I suppose it was warranted. Just a few hours ago, I’dmet with Nora and submitted the paperwork to rejoin my PhD program.
That meant Max was right. As of this coming semester, any free time I had would be a thing of the past.
“You ready to dive back into the books?” he asked as he took a chip from the bowl of nachos.
“As ready as I can be.” Which didn’t count for much.
“You have this in the bag. Just buckle down and do that thing you do best.”
I stared at him, wondering whatthinghe was referring to. Surely he didn’t mean winning card games or making investment calls.
As though he noticed my confusion, he said, “You get shit done.”
