Page 19 of Game, Set, MatchMaker

At the fridge, I pull out a gallon of milk. I pour a dollop on the oatmeal and carry my bowl to the counter. When I sit down across from her, I get treated to the whole dazzling Gemma-effect. Her straight-brown hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, like she used to wear it. She’s in a fitted, heather gray sweater and designer jeans, and she’s wearing a plaid scarf around her neck. Her skin glows, and—jackpot—she’s wearing a coating of sparkly gloss on her lips. Why does it make me so happy that she still wears lip gloss?

“I think we’re going to get married one day,” she says quickly.

I yank my gaze away from her lips and poke at the warm oatmeal with my spoon. “That right?”

“Probably. If things go to plan.”

“Hrmph.” I snort into my spoon and then manage to swallow a bite. “Still with the plans, huh? You’re something else.”

“If you want to accomplish things in this life, you have to have a plan,” she says. She pulls her laptop back to her and stirs it to life. While tapping the keys she says, “You don’t seem to be all that worried about accomplishing things these days, though.”

“What, two medals at the Olympics isn’t enough?” I tease. Then I shovel in more oatmeal. “Wow. This is dank.”

“Hey!” she retorts, feigning anger. “You know dank means damp and cold, or, like, moist and humid, right? Are you insulting my oatmeal?”

“Nah. I’m using the term in the best possible way. Excellent. Rad. Epic. As in, ‘that pizza we had last night was dank.’ Or ‘Gemma’s teeny-tiny Prius is dank.’ ”

She grins and shakes her head. “Okay, now you’re making fun of my car.”

Score. I got her to smile. “No way, dude. I like that little thing. I bet it’s great to have a car you could pick up and cart around in your purse, if you needed to. Bet she gets you about a million miles to the gallon or something.”

Still studying her laptop screen and typing, she says, “Parker, it’s aPrius. It useselectricity. Not like that dinosaur gas guzzler you have parked out there. What is that thing, anyway? Did you buy it from Fred Flintstone?”

“Aw, no! You’re ripping on my truck. That’s a Chevy. You should see the thing tear around these back roads. If you want to, we could take a drive later.”

She glances up at me over the top edge of her laptop, and concern flashes in her hazel eyes.

God, her eyes are pretty. I could get lost in them.

Her gaze holds mine for two seconds, then she looks back to her work.

Just like old times. Gemma, expert multi-tasker.

As she taps keys she says,“I’m not going to cruise backroads with you. Unless you answer some questions while we drive.”

“Back to this, huh?” I don’t want to talk about the dating questionnaire again. She brought it up plenty of times last night, and I already told her I’m not into getting set up. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”

“You better mean a pretty, intelligent dog with a bone.”

“Of course. A drop dead gorgeous, smarter-than-I’ll-ever-be dog with a bone.”

That makes her smile again. “Okay, that’s more like it.”

Why do I feel so lucky when she smiles like that? I want her to keep smiling. It’s a simple desire, with a complicated foundation.

I’m not going to dwell on my reasons for wanting that smile to stay on her lips.

Maybe it has to do with our history, and the fact that I never stopped loving Gemma—not really.

Or, maybe it’s just the fact that it’s a beautiful fall day, and she’s a friend from my past, and we’re spending some time together and I want it to be fun for us.

Yeah, right.

It’s more than that.

I know it, and she knows it, too. I can tell by the way we keep catching each others’ eye, like we used to do when we were young. Back then we traded so many secret looks, when no one was looking. I grin back at her. “You’d like the back roads around here, Gem. There are some cool lookouts, up on the mountain. We could go for a hike or something. Or, do you mountain bike? I have an extra. I know this awesome lookout, that’s really quiet. No one would be up there but us.”

I can’t help it that my voice has dipped low, like it used to when we were a pair and I was saying something for only her to hear.

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