Page 115 of The Even Odder Couple

“I like cookies,” I say, like an idiot.That’s not the point, Tess.

He picks up his hamburger. “I know it’s weird,” he says. “I don’t think anyone’s noticed before. Maybe no one else ever paid attention.”

He takes a bite, and his chiseled jaw flexes and shifts while he chews. When a drop of mustard lands just below his dimple, I reach over to swipe the mustard off with my pinkie.

A charge of electricity bolts up my arm. Spencer meets my gaze again, and I lick the mustard off my finger. Just the tip of my tongue along the tip of my finger. His eyes trace my movements, and a low sound rumbles in the back of his throat. Half groan. Half growl.

“Sorry.” I wrinkle my nose. “I should’ve let you use a napkin. I love mustard, but that was probably too messy for you, huh?”

“No.” The word is full of gravel. “That was just the right amount of messy.” He averts his eyes and sets down his burger.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” I say. “About your thing with the twos.”

“On the contrary.” He takes a beat. “You make me feel … seen.”

“Okay. That’s good.” I nod. “So why, then?”

He tilts his head like he’s never had to answer that question before. “I guess I feel more comfortable with even numbers. Like all the rough edges are smoothed out when things come in pairs. And two sets can make a square. Which is a solid shape. Straight lines. Equal measurements.” He huffs out a breath. “I’m sure it doesn’t make sense to anyone but me. You probably think I’m even weirder than before.”

“On the contrary,” I say, echoing him. The fog in my tired brain begins to lift. Light peeking through a bank of clouds. “I think I understand.”

His brow furrows. “I barely understand myself, so that’s pretty shocking.”

“The thing is,Iactually like the number three,” I say. “Three picture frames on a wall. Three flowers in a vase.Threecookies. I always thought three was my favorite number because I was a triplet. Is that weird?”

“Well.” He drags a hand over his hair. It’s been mussed up ever since he gave me his sweatshirt. “I won’t say it’s odd. That’s a joke my dad would crack.”

I pretend to groan at the corniness, but Spencer looks so adorable right now, I kind of love it a little bit. I kind of lovehima little bit. But those aren’t words I can say out loud yet. We’ve got lots of other things to say first.

I lead with a vague question. “You know what?” It’s an easy conversation starter.

“What?”

“After hearing about your thing with twos, I think I might like the number three because it’s a little off balance. A triangle. The shape is irregular.” I shrug. “Which kind of makes me the opposite of you.”

“Sounds about right,” he says.

“But maybe being opposites isn’t all bad.”

“Maybe not.”

“You know what else?” This time Spencer doesn’t saywhat. He just waits for me to say the next thing. “Watching my nephew be born tonight was … incredible.” I shake my head, and Spencer draws in a long breath. Nodding. Listening. “The love in Mac’s eyes,” I continue. “For his son and his wife. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I can only imagine,” Spencer says. His voice is gruff. He must be so tired.

“And Brooke? Wow.” I exhale. “When they handed her the baby for the first time, she looked like she was holding a part of herself. Some missing piece she never knew existed. Not until that moment. I can’t even explain her face. But with Teddy in her arms, she seemed …”

Spencer tilts his head. “Even?”

“Whole.”

We both swallow and hold each other’s gaze for five long seconds. Or maybe it was six, depending on whether you prefer even or odd numbers. Then we both talk at the same time.

HIM: “What did your note mean?”

ME: “What did you want to tell me?”

We both take a beat, then Spencer sweeps a hand out to indicate me. “Ladies first.”

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