She snuggled into bed, pulling the covers up to her ears. Yes, the best way to get the jerk with the beautiful eyes out of her mind was to go on a nice, normal date with a nice, normal guy. They would receive positive news from Mom’s doctor, and she could finally enter the world of adulting for real. It was the perfect moment to manifest what she wanted from the universe, and some instinct told her it would be a good year.
eight
tell me i’m right. and pretty.
Ryan zigzagged through the end of rush hour traffic to his apartment. He pulled into the apartment parking lot and tucked his motorcycle under the carport next to Iz’s battered old Civic. The thing looked like a piece of shit, but it ran like a dream and had a kick-ass sound system. Iz wouldn’t have it any other way.
He unlocked the door and called out, “Hello?”
No answer. Resigning himself to an empty apartment, Ryan plugged in his dead phone and made a sandwich. He took his sandwich to the living room and turned on the TV, but he didn’t really watch the show. A pair of lake-blue eyes and smiling pink lips occupied most of the retail space in his head. It would be easier to forget her if her brains and honesty hadn’t also left a lasting impression. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed a date so much, the ending notwithstanding.
He should call her and apologize. Tell her he was an idiot. Explain the situation better. No, the only part she’d buy was the idiot bit.
The small voice in the back of his head, which oddly sounded more like Elissa’s today, told him he’d been an asshole tonight, but it might be worth a shot. Their mothers were friends—he’d likely be running into her again sooner or later. More than that, it was the right thing to do. Iz would say the same thing, after calling him a dickhead first.
Ryan pushed aside the huge DeMarco ego he’d inherited from his father, heaved himself off the couch, and grabbed his phone from the kitchen. His lock screen informed him he had three texts. One was from Alex, and two were from someone named Laurel. The name was familiar, but he couldn’t put a face to it. Why was she in his contacts? He clicked on the first of her messages received around five, when he’d realized his phone was dead.
L: So sorry I have to work late. Another time?
Wait, what? He reread the first message, then read the second.
L: I’m free Thursday. Can we meet closer to my work?
And the text from Alex, about a half hour ago.
A: How did it go with Laurel?
Had he been on a date with a complete stranger? No fucking way. What were the chances of this? Ryan bet Elissa could’ve told him the odds. He called his brother.
“Who is this?” Alex said.
“It’s Ryan, asshole.”
“You can’t possibly be my brother. My brother never calls when a text will do.”
“What does Laurel look like?” He opened the fridge and stared at the contents as if they held the answer.
“What do you mean, what does she look like? You just saw her.”
“She didn’t show, and my phone died.”
“Well, that’s going to make the next charity event super awkward. Laurel’s the party planner.”
“Just tell me what she looks like. Please, Alex.” Ryan shut the fridge door and thunked his forehead against it, bracing himself for the bad news.
“Yeah, okay.” His brother paused. “She’s an inch or two shorter than you?—”
“I’m gonna stop you there.”
His stomach dropped. Elissa was barely taller than Nonna had been. If Laurel was almost as tall as he was, he’d fucked up. He’d been on a date with the wrong woman. There was no way he was telling his brother. That would lead to their cousins finding out. And their parents and aunts and uncles. It would become a funny story they’d tell at every opportunity to embarrass him, from now until eternity. Shit.
“Why? What’s going on?”
Ryan trudged to the living room and collapsed onto the couch.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I let you talk me into it in the first place. Dad would never let me off the hook just for dating someone Mom approves.”
“It was always a long shot, Ryan, but you seemed adamant you didn’t want to work for him. I tried to give you something you could do that was more…palatable.”
