Page 61 of We Met Like This
“I claimed all the money in the Bad Decisions jar as my own?”
“To be fair,” she said, “most of it came from you, so I accept it as payment.”
“How magnanimous.”
“I reject the Airbnb idea, though,” she said. “I’m not trying to get murdered.”
“It could make a good meet-cute for you,” I said.
“That’s what you said last night,” she reminded me. “Andlike I told you last night, I already have a boyfriend and I’m not hung up on meet-cutes like you are. And like I also told you, we’ll be fine. You’re going to be a rock-star agent.”
“Rock star,” I said, the last missing puzzle piece of the night finally clicking into place.
Sloane pinched the bridge of her nose. “Considering I still have a hangover, we will resume this conversation tomorrow.” She stood and, as she reached the hall, turned and said, “Oliver, my brain has been too foggy to get to know you properly. So you get to come to coffee with us tomorrow.”
His lip twitched into a smirk, then he nodded.
“Also,” she said, pointing to both of us, “don’t eat my leftovers.”
I gestured to our pile of half-eaten burgers and fries in the kitchen and she grunted her acknowledgment.
“What exactly are her leftovers?” Oliver asked after she was gone. “Her passion for them is admirable.”
“Trust me, it’s just an omelet or something basic. When she’s hungry she thinks everything was more delicious than it actually was.”
“You two have a fun dynamic.”
“Do you have roommates?” I asked.
“I do not.”
My eyes narrowed. “Don’t you get lonely?”
“Yes, very,” he said, his husky voice sending tingles skating up my spine. “Also, what’s a meet-cute?”
I smiled. “It’s what we call the first meeting between the love interests in a book or movie. It’s usually something adorable. Like a mixed-up drink order or a mistaken identity, a kiss cam or a concert shoulder ride.”
“What about au upon a dating app? Does that qualify?”
I laughed. “Never!” Another memory came to me from the night before. “I deleted my apps last night. Right after that guy texted me those words, which prompted my unhinged message to you.”
He didn’t seem surprised. “I delete mine every few months.”
“Me too.”
“That’s why we keep matching,” he said.
“That and your toilet.” I pulled my knee onto the couch with me, hugging it to my chest.
“Oh yes, the proximity of you to my toilet is important, I forgot.”
My eyes shot down to his crotch even though I really knewtoiletwasnotcode for his penis. My cheeks went pink and I quickly averted my gaze. “How many people are you chatting with this round?”
“On the apps?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Like five or six.”
