Page 19 of Accidentally Yours
“Come on now,” Alice said, dipping one glass into a bowl filled with chili-lime salt. “He can’t be that bad in real life. What’s wrong with him? Give us the tea.”
Paige squeezed a cut lime into the blender, thinking, analyzing her time so far with Ethan. “Well, he’s kind of full of himself,” Paige said, then frowned. Was that true? Sure, he was sarcastic and even cocky. But also . . . funny. His dry humor caught her off guard, and she liked that. And the way he talked about his grandparents, about finding the necklace for his grandma? It was sweet. Even endearing?
“He should be full of himself,” Alice argued, analyzing the salt rim she’d made on the first glass. “He’s gorgeous. The Adonis of reality TV. A young Tom Cruise,Top Gunera, single-handedly making bomber jackets sexy again. He’s—”
“Got it,” Paige huffed a laugh. “He’s good-looking.”
Alice smirked, setting down the glass and picking up another. “So, enjoy the view. Maybe fake dating turns into real dating, and next thing you know, this is the love story you tell your grandkids.”
“That’s not happening,” Paige declared, adding agave syrup to the mix. “This is a business transaction. We have a contract. I’m getting paid to write a story with Ethan and make-believe we’re dating. That’s it. Nothing else.”
“Didn’t I have the same hunch about Gigi and Harris?” Alice lifted a knowing eyebrow.
Their gazes flicked to Gigi, who was expertly peeling the pineapple.
“She’s not wrong.” Gigi shrugged. “She kept saying that my boss was going to sweep me off my feet. And, well, look at me now.” She smiled, like she was thinking of her boyfriend. “Harris did, in fact, sweep me off my feet.”
Alice sighed. “See? I have an eye for this stuff. I’ve watched like a million and one rom-com movies and know a meet-cute when I see one.”
Paige rolled her eyes. Alice lived for love stories, always seeing the silver lining. Paige? She was a skeptic, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
But Gigiwashappy. A literal rom-com movie come to life. Somewhere between decorating gingerbread houses, singing Christmas karaoke, and taking horse-drawn carriage rides, Harris and Gigi fell for each other. Now, six months later, they lived together in this gorgeous brownstone—with their kitten, Rudy, who was currently darting through the kitchen like a furry bullet.
“That’s great for Gigi,” Paige said, walking to the fridge to fill a bowl with ice. “But I’m not looking for a love story.” She announced the words as if the world needed to hear it. But was she even convincing herself?
It wasn’t that Paige didn’t want her own love story. She just didn’t think she was lucky enough to find it.
“You’re just not open to love yet,” Gigi said, cubing the pineapple on the cutting board. “I mean, how many of those GambleOnLove dates have you actually gone on?”
Paige groaned. “Oh, I don’t know.” Her friends stared her down until she gave in. “Fine. About fifty.”
“Fifty?!” Gigi and Alice yelped.
It was actually sixty-eight. Paige had rounded down.
“Over a six-month period,” Paige added, not sure why she hadn’t connected with any of them. Was she too picky? Or was there something wrong with her? “That’s like two-and-a-half dates a week.”
“And you didn’t go on a second date with any of them?” Alice was holding a salted-rimmed glass up like a torch, stunned.
“I haven’t found my match yet,” Paige said, feigning nonchalance. She had, however, found endless inspiration for future novels—which was the whole reason she’d started using the dating app in the first place. She usually knew within five minutes whether a date had potential. If not, she shifted into research mode, treating the night as a character study. Her favorite question?In your line of work, what’s a creative way someone might be murdered?It usually caught her date off guard . . . but the answers were gold.
“Besides, you guys know,” Paige continued. “I always tell you about my dates at yappy hour.”
“And you fully entertain us with your stories,” Alice said. “You always make them sound so funny.”
Paige shrugged. “Maybe my guy lives on another continent. Or another planet.”
“You’ll find your person when you’re ready.” Gigi scooped a handful of pineapple into the blender.
“In the meantime, I have a career to focus on. That’s my priority.” Paige turned on the blender, letting the loud whir drown out any more discussion of her love life.
When the whirring stopped, Alice slid the salt-rimmed glasses close to the blender. “That’s fair.”
“You know we only want the best for you, right?” Gigi added, and Paige nodded. She knew that.
“And if writing matters most right now . . .” Alice tapped her chin as Paige filled the glasses. “Then why not use your fake-dating time with Mr. Leather Jacket as . . . research? To sharpen your love scenes.”
Paige paused mid-pour. “What?”
