Okay, calm down.
I’m practically panting again, heart racing. If I were a cartoon, my tongue would be hanging out of my mouth now. He looks so good in his white t-shirt that I’m afraid I’m going to spontaneously combust. Every time his muscles flex, I want to groan, pull him to me, and bite him. I don’t know, but he makes me feel primal.
“So…” I say, needing to break the silence, needing to get my mind out of the gutter—and quick! Because look at those forearms sprinkled with dark hair.
“So?” he parrots in a gravelly voice. The air between us crackles.
“Are you gonna…”Ask me out, I want to say. “Are you gonna send me the pictures you took yesterday?”
Of me and Leo. Of you and me and Leo. Of us.
He grimaces and exhales deeply. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Liza.”
I sit back in my chair, confused. “Why’s that?” Why on earth would sending me pictures not be a good idea?
He sighs and stares back at me intensely. “Because if I have your number, I’ll be too tempted to call you later and ask you out.”
My heart is definitely racing now, and I feel really lightheaded. I marvel at how he can string a few words together and cause such a reaction in me. “Oh,” is all I manage to say.
I’m the queen of wit, here, folks. Pull out pen and paper—take notes!
“Yeah,” he sighs and looks down at the kitchen table, tracing patterns on the wooden surface with his fingers.
“And why is that a problem exactly?” I ask in a small voice. I’m totally down for you to ask me out, Matt. Been waiting my entire life, it feels like.
He looks up at me and furrows his brows, willing me to understand. All of a sudden, I get it. “Ah.” I nod and take another sip of my water. “The bro code.”
Vinny must have said something after seeing how cozy we had gotten at the farm.
He grimaces and half-smiles at me. “Yeah, I was reminded of its existence last night.”
I knew it.
“I understand,” I lie. “You can’t ask me out. No biggie.” I shrug, but it really is a biggie. It feels like a bigger biggie than breaking off my engagement did.
He sighs deeply, his frustration visible in the way his brows come together.
“There are ways around this, you know,” I say, channeling all those years of watchingSuits. I’m gonna lawyer my way into finding a loophole in this damn bro code if it’s the last thing I do. I cannot just let the fact that Matt likes me roll over me like it’s nothing.
He chuckles and scratches his neck. “Oh, yeah? Do tell, because I’ve been coming up short since yesterday afternoon.”
I think for a minute and go for the most obvious option. “Um, I can askyouout?”
He shakes his head. “Nope, sorry. Can’t go out on a date with you at all, even if you ask.” He takes a deep breath and expels a groan. “That is definitely not allowed either.”
“Hmmm,” I say, absolutely thrilled to see that he seems to want this as much as I do—and that’s saying something. It gives me hope but also reminds me how annoying my brother is.
I hate Vinny. I hate Vinny. I hate Vinny.
Just as I’m about to lose it and offer up a crazy idea like running away to another country—because of course there’s probably some regional stipulation, right?—an idea forms in my head. “What if we were to casually run into each other on accident? And then just happened to hang out?” I ask. “Does that count as breaking the bro code?”
Matt smiles broadly and sits up straight in his chair. “No, there’s nothing in there about running into a bro’s sister in public and saying hi, maybe talking to her for a few minutes. If you think about it, it would be incredibly rude of menotto say hi to you.”
“Great!” I say. “So, now that that’s clear…I just want to casually mention that I have brunch every Saturday at Angelina Cafe on Sixth Avenue at around eleven am. Just in case you were wondering. About what people do. On Saturdays. Since you haven’t lived in New York for quite some time.”
He laughs quietly at me and shakes his head.
“Nice to know that’s where you’ll be for sure next Saturday at eleven. I always wonder what people do around that time on the weekends.”
