Page 34 of In the Net
“What did you get?” she asks as I turn the seat at the desk around to face her, opening my own lid.
“Same thing. Tomato.”
“Copycat.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t think the whole copycat thing works if I’m the one who got them.”
“It does,” she announces primly, sipping her soup.
“If you weren’t sick, maybe I’d be more inclined to argue my point. Because I’m right. But you are sick, so I’ll graciously just let you be wrong with no push back.”
“Actually, since?—”
I cut her off by very loudly slurping my soup. “Sorry. Couldn’t hear you over the sound of enjoying the soup, which was one hundred percent my decision to get. I’m assuming you graciously admitted defeat and we’re moving onto another topic.”
She narrows her eyes at me, but can’t hide the twitch at the edge of her mouth.
“What did you do today?” she asks.
“I went to the Bois de Boulogne to go on a run this morning. Then I spent the rest of the day trying to keep you alive.”
She rolls her eyes. “Drama queen.” She sips some more soup. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you mention your ticket to the Louvre was today?”
Warmth is crawling up my neck into my cheeks again. “Yeah. But, I mean …”
Her head whips up, her eyes locking with mine. “Sebastian. Do not tell me you missed out on seeing the Louvre just to take care of me.”
All I can do is shrug. “What can I say? You know how selfless I am.”
She sighs, shaking her head, still looking at me with hints of outrage mingled with guilt lining her face. “I’m never going tolive this down. For as long as we know each other, you’re always going to hold this over my head, guilt-tripping me that I ruined your one chance to see the Louvre.”
All I can do is grin. “Wow, you do know me well.”
She points her gaze down at her soup again. A couple beats of silence pass as she spoons more of the liquid into her mouth. Then she looks up. “Thanks.”
My lips hitch, even though I try to stop them. “Don’t mention it.”
A sort of awkward silence settles over the room. I try to think of a topic of conversation to fill it. All I come up with is, “So, get stood up on any more dates lately?”
She drills me with a nonplussed look. “Sebastian, I’m already sick. Don’t make me nauseous on top of it by having to think about going back onto the apps when I get home.”
For some reason, the thought of Harper on those apps, every guy at Brumehill swiping on her profile and trying to set up dates with her, brings a bad taste to my mouth that overwhelms the flavor of the soup.
“If you don’t like them, why are you on them?”
Her lips roll, and her jaw muscles arc like she’s grinding her molars. “I need a date for my cousin’s wedding.”
“Why? Like, I know people like to have plus-ones for weddings. But it’s not like it’s so important that you have to put yourself through an ordeal you can’t stand to get one. If you’re not dating someone at the time, just go alone.”
“Wow, Sebastian, you really are a genius. I wonder why I haven’t thought of that.” Her sarcasm is thicker than the tomato soup we’re eating.
“What’s the issue, then?”
“The issue is my family are all assholes and if I show up single to another wedding, they’ll never let me live it down, not like they’re letting me live it down as it is.” She tilts her carton todown the last of her soup before asking, “Did you get anything else to eat?”
A devilish grin pops on my face. “Wow, someone has an appetite. I hope the next wedding-related drama isn’t over you struggling to fit into your dress.”
“Sebastian, I swear to?—”
