Twenty-One
IRIS
Gilmore Girlsis playingon the TV while I clean out my personal inbox. The amount of spam email that’s accumulated in the last two weeks is insane. The notifications keep racking up, and they’re showing on my home screen, which makes my eye twitch.
Could I turn it off? Yes. Will I? No, what happens if an email comes through that needs urgent attention, but I don’t see it because the notifications are off?
I pick up my glass of water and take a sip as I work. Before I can set it down, though, someone knocks at my door. Picking up the remote, I pause my show.
“Who is it?” I yell.
“It’s me,” Max says from the other side.
“You know the code. Let yourself in,” I call out.
As I unpause the show, he lets himself in.
“Not even bothering with answering your door now?” he teases.
“It was just you, and you have the code.” I shrug.
“Damn, you know how to make a guy feel special,” he quips back as he comes to sit in the chair next to the couch.
I can’t help but take him in. He’s got on a pair of gray sweats and a black T-shirt. His hair is messy, telling me that it was one of those days where he had a bunch of nervous energy he needed to dispense.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
I look at his hair and raise a brow.
“Ah. I’m working on a project, and it’s a whole thing.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He opens his mouth to say something, but a text message comes through on my phone.
“Can you hold that thought for one second?”
“Sure,” he says as I swipe to unlock my screen.
Clint
I am officially fitted for my tux. Are you still planning on wearing black?
Me
I am. I can’t wait to see you in it.
Clint
I won’t lie, I look pretty fucking good. You’re going to be the luckiest girl in the room.
As I read his message, I chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” Max asks, pulling my attention back to him.
“Oh, it was Clint,” I tell him as I darken my screen.
