Page 2 of We Met Like This
“I do.” I leaned forward to kiss him.
He inched backward.
“They have the same feel,” I insisted.
“Margot…”
“Seriously?” I asked, my panties still around my ankles.
“Let’s get to know each other a little better.”
“I think the getting to know each other is what’s ruining it,” I said with a smile.
He shook his head, a smile on his lips too. At least he had a sense of humor. But he didn’t resume our makeout.
I pulled my black lace underwear the remainder of the way off, over my heels. “Oliver, you said?”
“Oliver,” he said.
“I think we both know we’re not a match.” I had known from the minute he ignored the waitress. I should’ve left then. I took his hand and placed my panties in his palm. “But it was fun.” I climbed out of the car, adjusted my skirt, and walked away.
CHAPTER 1
Three years later
“Wait wait wait wait…” Sloane, my roommate, started. She was in her pajamas, bonnet on her head protecting her curls, and sipping a glass of white wine. She’d come out of her room when I got home and perched herself on the couch, ready for me to summarize the date. For as long as we’d been roommates (more than two years now) this had been our ritual. “You’re telling me yougavehim your leftovers?”
“Yes,” I groaned, pouring myself a glass of wine from the bottle on the counter.
“The guy who cuts his meat into tiny pieces?”
“My dad nearly choked on a piece of steak once,” I said, carrying my wine to the couch. “Had to get the Heimlich from a fellow restaurantgoer and everything. Maybe Lance has too.”
Sloane curled her lip. “Did he still hold his fork in his entire fist while he ate?”
“It’s unique,” I insisted.
She rolled her eyes. “A free meal is a free meal no matter who you have to eat it with, I guess.”
I cringed. “I paid.”
“You paid last time!”
“I know. I panicked. He started talking about flat-earth theory. And he was on the wrong side of that argument! I practically threw my credit card at the waiter.” I don’t know why. I didn’t have extra funds just lying around to pay for all dates. At twenty-seven, my job was still the same one I’d had for the last four years—assistant to a literary agent. And even though in the last couple years I’d gotten to take on a few of my own small clients, in every other way it was the same: same responsibilities, same office, same boss, same barely livable salary. We should’ve split the check. I usually split the bill on dates, but Lance was into theI pay this time, you pay next timeidea. As if there were going to be an infinite string ofnext times.
“Thank god he brought up his thoughts on the Earth’s shape,” she said. “Or you would’ve been in love with him by next week.”
“I would not have,” I said, but only half-heartedly. We’d met in a yoga class three weeks earlier when I’d stumbled and knocked him over while attempting the Warrior 2 pose. We’d exchanged numbers before the class was even over through whispers and giggles under the annoyed glare of the instructor. Lance was cute and asked me questions about myself, a low bar, yet one many men couldn’t make it over. He’d made it to date three. I thought we were on our way. Then he brought up his conspiracy theories and the perfect future I had envisioned came crashing down.
“I’m just saying…” she sang.
“You have no room to talk,” I said to Sloane. “You’re happilyin a relationship now. You’ve forgotten about the discovery phase. The discovery phase is the absolute worst part of a relationship. I hate having to start from zero with someone, to answer the same questions over and over again and ask the same questions over andoveragain. Decide if we’re compatible over and over again.”
“So you were willing to live with fist fork for the rest of your life so you could avoid having to explain what a slush pile is again?” Sloane twisted her smartwatch on her wrist.
“Among other things,” I said. We both knew I wasn’t going to marry Lance, despite how much I tried to convince myself his habits were charming.
“You know what this means?” Sloane said.
