"I don't do drama. I'm not into that scene, and real relationships always involve drama. And you're …"
"A temporary blip on social media. I'm someone who overinvested in my last relationship because I was so afraid I'd never find someone. I want to find someone. I mean, I know you're not him, but at least I'm not alone when I'm with you. But at the end of the day, I'm still nobody. Not compared to your world."
"You're not nobody, Ophelia. I like you. You're caring and funny and …" He searches for another word.
"Impulsive, boring, introverted."
"Pretty awesome," he finishes. "Not many people would give up everything to help a total stranger out."
I look down at my feet and shrug. "That's the benefit of being a nobody with nothing. I have nothing to sacrifice. I'm not giving up anything. In fact, I'm gaining something."
"What's that?"
"For the time that we're married, I get the knowledge that people are looking at us, wondering how I was able to land you." I shrug again. "I want to be special for once. And if I'm married to you, people will think I must be special."
This pity party is interrupted by pounding on the door. I don't even need to wonder who it is because I can hear Marley yelling, "Ophelia June Finnegan, open this door this very second."
Xavier looks at me, his eyes wide.
Right. He wants a drama-free life.
Marley doesn't sound like drama-free.
"It's my best friend, who undoubtedly saw my ClikClak." I don't mention the letter I mailed to her, naming him as my murderer. "I'll pay you to answer the door like that." I nod at his mostly naked body which looks quite lickable. If nothing else, it will distract her from her rampage, which, judging from her yelling, we're going to need.
He smiles but inches toward the bedroom. "Sorry, but that's not me. I don't stir up drama."
I shrug. "Probably for the best. You should come with a warning anyway. Unexpected viewing of pecs and abs will cause spontaneous panty-dropping and immediate pregnancy."
Oh dear Lord, tell me I did not just say that out loud?
It's a good thing that we're not really in a relationship because I would never, ever survive my mortification.
"Right."
"Right then." I shift nervously. The banging at the door continues. "I'd better get that."
"And I'd better get dressed, lest you and your friend find yourself in the family way." Xavier offers a sly smile that indicates slight amusement.
I think.
I hope.
"Girl, you'd better open this door right this instant!"
I pull the door open to see my best friend standing there in an absolute panic.
"Hey," I say as blandly as I can. "What's up?"
Marley waves my letter. "Are you dead? I thought you were dead. I get this in the mail, and I don't hear from you. Then, you're posting on ClikClak with some random dude in your apartment, and you're in love? What the actual hell, Ophelia?"
"Um, I texted you. You didn't respond. This is what you get. Be nice to me or you can’t come to my wedding."
Marley's brown complexion turns a shade of red I didn't know was possible. There may be steam coming from the ends of her curls. She hisses at me in a not-at-all-quiet whisper, "Wedding? Are you delusional? Has all this social media crap caused you to have a legit psychotic break? You need to pull your head out of those stupid romance novels and wake up, Ophelia Finnegan. You are NOT getting married. This is nuts."
"Who's at the door?" Xavier struts out in gray sweatpants, a skin-tight T-shirt, and damp hair.
It takes me a minute to remember how to swallow.
