Page 40 of Dating Goals
Oh, who am I kidding?
Outside the café, we say our goodbyes with promises to meet up soon. As Sawyer and Maggie head off toward their Swiss home-away-from-home, I pull out my phone to check the time and see a text from Anika that came in while we were talking.
Anika:Can we reschedule tomorrow’s lesson? Something came up.
I feel a ridiculous stab of disappointment. Without overthinking it, I type back:
Me:Nice try. I’m not letting you off that easily. Be ready at noon. We’ve got work to do.
I stare at my phone for a moment, then add:
Me:Trust me. This will be fun.
I pocket my phone with a secret smile, thinking about what Sawyer said about best-laid plans. I definitely have plans. Oh boy, do I ever.
10
ANIKA
If I wait any longer for this guy to text, my phone might just self-destruct. He said to be ready at noon. It’s noon now, but without directions where to meet for our so-called date.
My clock taunts me. Maybe Griffin has come to his senses, decided I’m beyond repair, and bolted in the other direction. I’m teetering between swapping these absurd earrings for a pair of worn slippers and collapsing in a heap of defeat on my couch, until a knock at the door shatters my brooding. It’s the kind that sends your heart racing if you’re a homebody like me.
I stare at the door like it might spontaneously combust. If I wait long enough, maybe whoever it is will just go away.
Another knock comes, louder and more persistent this time. I sigh, telling myself I shouldn’t just sit here to see what happens. Nope. I’m just gonna take an innocent stroll over to the door and…hello, Griffin. The smile on his face could melt glaciers, and the flowers he’s holding aren’t bad either.
“Hey there,” he says, looking way too relaxed and completely at home in my doorway. “Brought you these.”
He holds up the bouquet like it’s some grand trophy and not just more evidence that I was wrong about him bailing. It smellsof fresh-cut azaleas and a little bit of the universe playing a cosmic joke on me.
“Flowers? How…traditional.” I cross my arms and try not to breathe them in. “How did you find out where I live?”
He cocks his head to the side, indicating someone (or three someones) across the street. Of course. Lars, Evan, and Colin. Shameless traitors, waving like it’s some kind of hometown parade and Griffin’s the main float.
“Lars told you?” I can barely hide my irritation. I just know it was Lars.
“And Evan. And Colin.” Griffin’s grin practically spreads to his ears. “They said it would impress you. They also said they’ve got bets you wouldn’t answer the door.”
“I wish I hadn’t.”
His face falls. “You were going to leave me standing outside your door? With flowers?”
My cheeks go nuclear.
“I…uh, well, I just thought you might be better off…uh…” I fumble for anything that doesn’t make me sound like I was bailing but finally shrug. “Okay, fine. I got cold feet.”
Griffin raises an eyebrow, clearly amused at my little meltdown.
“But the flowers are lovely. Thank you,” I say, reluctantly accepting the bouquet. They’re obnoxiously beautiful. “Anyway, they’re just part of the coaching, right?”
“If you say so. And you’re welcome. I was going to pick you up at the pub, but then I ran into those guys.”
He points his thumb over his shoulder where Lars, Evan, and Colin are suspiciously exchanging money.
“Should have known,” I mutter. I wonder how many francs Lars got from Griffin for the intel.
“Wer ist an der Tür?” my mother’s voice calls from the living room, asking who’s at the door.
