She raises an eyebrow.
“It really isn’t. What in the world is she thinking? Gabriel Vincenti isn’t even in my league.”
Daria chuffs.
“He’s pretty to look at, but still.” No. Just no.
“If she’s anything like Emilia, you’re in trouble. They’re going to mow you over like a freight train.”
A freight train is nothing compared to Emilia when she wants something. I’m in trouble.
Dash lets out a little cry from the stroller.
I check his diaper as his little face gets angrier and angrier. It’s fine. “You woke up hungry, didn’t you?”
A smile forms on his face.
“It’s a good thing I brought all those bottles. Dash must be in a growth spurt.” I settle on the couch with him in my arms.
He grabs at the bottle as it comes close.
“You’re going to be one of those teenage boys that you can’t ever fill up.” I try not to think about how good he feels in my arms. Dash will be gone in a short time. There’s no point in getting attached.
The real problem is a teenager who thinks that she’s a matchmaker from a family of expert matchmakers and meddlers.
My life as I know it is over. I glance over at Daria, but she’s going to just laugh. Why couldn’t life be easy, like reading a book?
A book…
Daria’s book…
It’s brilliant. All I need is a fake boyfriend to make her back off without any questions.
***
“…so, then I stopped scrubbing and went to take care of the baby.” I squeeze my fingers together to avoid reaching back to scratch my hip.
“The baby was able to pull you out—” My therapist jots something in her notebook.
“How could I ignore Dash? He needed me.” It felt instinctual.
She continues writing in that notebook of hers. It’s like a secret codebook. “And all of this was caused by the interesting man pulling away from your touch?”
I nod as shame floods through my body again. “He’s still disgusted by me.”
Her head pops up. “How do you know that?”
“We were at a party yesterday, and he kept glaring at me. I should have found a moment to apologize, but this guy kept interrupting.” Gabriel Vincenti hardly counts as ‘a guy’.
“Was he making a nuisance of himself? We practiced ways to—”
“No. It was actually the ‘interesting’ guy’s daughter.” It’s easier not saying Max’s name out loud. “She’s determined to matchmake me with the interesting guy’s cousin.”
“Do you like that or not?”
“The cousin is nice and all…”
“But you’re not interested—”
