Page 60 of The Odds of Happily Ever After
“Good on you.” Max swilled his beer. “So, if there was no a breakup, are you seeing anyone now?”
I snorted. “Do you think I have the time?”
“I think you’d make time if you wanted to. Then again, you’d barely be able to sleep, let alone date with what you’re taking on.”
My stomach soured with the reminder. I’d decided on my course of action, which should have meant I’d go full speed ahead. No looking back.
I’d always believed that second guessing only wasted time, and what-ifs served as useless distractions. So why did I keep questioning if I’d made the right choice?
After another round of beers, Max and I parted ways. I drove home, alternately contemplating my decision and berating myself for doing so. As I passed the street where Luna lived, my foot eased on the gas. Was she was home? It was eleven—still early for most, considering it was a Friday night.
I found myself wanting to talk to her. It had been almost a month since our trip to Atlanta, and other than that phone call when she thanked me for her drinks, all our conversations had occurred via text.
So I dialed her number. If she didn’t answer, then?—
“I could have been busy, you know.” Her voice streamed through the speaker, bright and lilting.
My chest fell as I released a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I smiled. “Then you wouldn’t have answered after two rings.”
“What if I was on the toilet?”
“Why would you have your phone in the bathroom?”
“Why not? Haven’t you heard of multitasking?”
My brow furrowed at the implication of her question. “You text while using the toilet?”
“Don’t you?”
“Of course not. That’s unsanitary.”
“Why am I not surprised you said that?”
“Because I’m a rational, hygienic person,” I said. Then I chuckled at the direction this call had gone. “Only you would answer the phone and talk about your toilet habits.”
“Um, no. That’s more common than you think.” She laughed, and my smile widened.
“Are you busy?” I asked.
“If you consider scrolling through Instagram busy. What’s up?”
“I just passed your street and thought I would check in.”
“Ooh, someone had a late-ish night. Hot date?”
“If you consider drinking beers with a fellow professor a hot date,” I said, echoing her wording.
“That depends. Is this fellow professor attractive?”
I tried to see Max through Luna’s eyes. “I suppose some people would say that.”
“Is it Professor Richmond?”
The name didn’t ring a bell. “Who’s that?”
“Only the most beautiful professor on campus. Come on, Gabe. She teaches chemistry.”
“I’m not familiar with her. Anyway, I was talking about a male professor.”
