Page 15 of Betting on You

“And youshouldcare—he’s cute.”

“He’s probably looking atyou,” I said, picturing Zack yet again and feeling the sad return. “Or looking at me and wishing I looked more like Kelsie Kirchner.”

“Will you stop with that?” Nekesa said, shooting me a glare that said she wasovermy lovesick whining. “Christ.”

And I got it. I’m sure it wassuperannoying to hang out with someone who couldn’t get over their ex, especially when Nekesa and her boyfriend were madly in love with each other.

Which was why I was so grateful for Eva and Emma; they didn’t mind my whining.

The three of us weresothe same when it came to guys.

Last night, each of us posted an aesthetic video about the new Emily Henry book. It was a total coincidence, a coincidence that led to an hours-long group text where we commiserated about how much we’d loved the book and how unfair it was that her heroes didn’t exist in real life.

With Eva and Em, I didn’t feel like I had toget overmy feelings. They were the friends who allowed me to wallow while also sending me playlists and F1 memes. They were the friends who shared my need to jump wholeheartedly into fictional romances, simply because escaping into the joy of what Ididn’thave was somehow comforting and hopeful.

God, I wished I were in my room right now, rereading that Emily Henry book.

But—ahem—I wasn’t.

I glanced out of the corner of my eye in the direction of Jupiter, trying to be discreet as I looked for the dude Nekesa was referring to, but I couldn’t stop my loud gasp when I saw him.

It was impossible.

Impossible.

I squinted and craned my neck, but there was no denying the truth.

No, no, no, no, noooooo.

It couldn’t be. There was just no. Way.

Mr. Nothing.

CHAPTER SEVENBailey

“Oh my God.” I couldn’t believe it. Mr. Nothing was bouncing at my new job; what were the odds?Howwwww is this happening??I tried to sound casual and like I didn’t care as I stared in his direction and whispered, “I know that guy.”

“He’s hot.”

“Is he?” I tilted my head and tried to appraise him as he jumped. He was tall, dark-haired, and broad-shouldered—objectively a handsome human, I supposed—but it was impossible for me to see past his Mr. Nothing face.

I could still hear his deep voice moaning aboutquestionable meaton the airplane.

Nekesa tilted her head too, and said, “Totally hot. How doyouknow him?”

I knew what she meant, but it irritated me at the same time that it made total sense. I didn’t ever put myself out there andtalk to guys, especially not “hot” guys that I didn’t know, so the question was valid.

Still, it feltnot great.

The DJ raised the volume on “Jump Around,” but the trainer appeared to be done with the morning invocation. He was drinking coffee and looking down at his phone.

“I sat next to him on a ten-hour flight a few years ago, and he was absolutely obnoxious.” I watched as he jumped with an athletic casualness that didn’t actually look uncool. “He had all these ridiculous opinions. I remember specifically that he said girls and guys could never truly be friends.”

“That’s weird,” she said, still watching him.

“Right?” He was casually jumping, but I sensed that he was fully aware we were staring at him. I said, “It doesn’t matter. He’s a total smart-ass who has hated me since I refused to let him cut in the boarding line. Let’s—”

“Glasses?” He looked directly at us—at me—and yelled from across the Jump-O-Sphere, “I thought that was you.”

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