Page 15 of The Hookup Situation
We’d both made it very clear that neither of us was in the right space for a relationship. Friends only. But then she sends me texts like that.
Another ten minutes pass, and I’m convinced she’s not coming.
After I gave her months of silence, I expected us to pick up as friends? How truly fucking delusional and presumptuous am I?
By seven thirty, I swallow down the rest of my glass of wine and refill it. When I open the lid of the pizza box, I notice headlights sweep across the windows.
I freeze and move toward the kitchen window watching Jules park. She sits in her car for a while. She’s officially thirty-five minutes late.
Get out of the car and join me. Please.
Eventually, she does. She’s wearing a brown sweater and tight jeans and carrying a bottle of wine in her hand. She takes her time strolling to the door, almost as if she’s still deciding if she should turn around.
I open the door before she can knock.
“You’re late,” I say.
“You noticed.” She studies me, then smiles. “I was trying to decide if this was a terrible idea.”
“What’s the verdict?”
“Jury’s still out.” She steps past me into the house. “But I brought more wine for us, so I’m committed to at least an hour of fun.”
“Fair enough.” I let her in, closing the door behind her. She smells like wildflowers and a dash of vanilla. “I ordered pizza. My cooking plans fell through.”
Her emerald eyes sparkle, and her red hair glows in this light as she turns to me. “What happened?”
I hear the concern in her voice.
“Turns out vodka sauce needs vodka. Who knew?”
She laughs, and the sound echoes off the vaulted ceiling. “You forgot the main ingredient?”
“It was a travel day, and I’ve had a lot of shit on my mind,” I admit.
“Clearly.” She sets her wine on the counter and notices the packaging in the trash. “You bought fresh penne from Marcello’s?”
“You know it?”
“Who doesn’t? Fancy.” She touches the package. “You were actually going to cook for me.”
“Of course. But also, don’t sound so surprised. I know how to cook,” I explain. “I can be domestic when needed.”
“Really? I learn something new about you every time we’re together.”
“I’ve missed your fire,” I tell her.
She laughs. “I could say the same about you.”
I slide a plate from the cabinet and hand it to her with a napkin. “I’m glad you came. I thought you weren’t.”
“Truthfully, I wasn’t, but I flipped a coin.” She opens the pizza box and grins. “My favorite. Lucky guess?”
“Zane told me,” I say. “Wait, wait. You flipped a coin?”
She nods. “I even did the best two out of three. Then I did three of five. The answer was clear, so here I am.”
I snatch a piece of pizza from the box and take a bite. Julie does the same.
