“Easier said than done.”
“Amen.”
We sit in silence again for a few minutes, but conversation pushes at me. Not because I want to fill the silence, but because I want to know Malia. “Tell me about the romcoms,” I say. I settle my character on a rooftop to watch my mark down below with a set of binoculars. “I looked up that movie you were talking about—the MFEO one,Sleepless in Seattle—and I’m not sure how it’s going to help me win dates and fall in love. Increased stalking?”
Malia turns to me. “You watchedSleepless in Seattle?” she says, her voice awed.
I nod slowly. “You said I needed to rectify my lack of ’90s and 2000s romcoms.”
A smile starts growing on her lips. Which distracts me for a moment before I swing my gaze back to the rest of her face. “So you just went and watchedSleepless in Seattle,” she says.
“Yes …” I draw out the word. I’m not sure why she’s acting like the fact that I watched a movie she suggested is heroic or something.
“Well, it worked,” she says quietly.
“Huh?”
She waves a hand. “Nothing. Did you like it?”
I shrug. “It was fine. But it’s old, Malia. How do you even know about it?”
She maneuvers her character, and I glance at her screen to see that she’s shifting out of view because her mark is walking toward her. “I’ve always been a night owl,” she says.
“Typical gamer,” I agree with a short laugh.
“Mmm-hmm.” She nods. “But I didn’t like the silence in our house, so I’d turn on movies, and one nightYou’ve Got Mailended up in my watch list. And I loved it. These two people falling in love over email. Like, people meet online all the time now—” She gestures between the two of us. “—but back then it was, like, quaint and cute. I don’t know. Something about it pulled me in. So I ended up finding everything I could with Meg Ryan, and then it just grew to all the classic romcoms.”
“And you think these romcoms will help me with love?” I raise an eyebrow, but I’m already tucking away the title of this one in my brain, putting it in my mental queue.
Malia turns to me, her expression knowing. “Trust me.”
We strike out on both the characters we follow, so we find more and strike out more. We compare notes we have on the mission, seeing if we can find something the other missed. We talk about our families and jobs, finish the pizza, and sometimes sit quietly.
It’s more fun than I’ve ever had on a date with someone, and this isn’t even a real date. And every signal Malia’s giving me tells me she feels the same.
“So,” I say, breaking the silence we’ve been sitting in for several minutes. Malia is leaning against my shoulder again,head up against my arm. It’s comfortable and not awkward at all. “I think we should go back to that restaurant with the great desserts.” She doesn’t say anything right away, and I go on. “Maybe for dinner. On a real date…”
She still doesn’t answer. I turn to look at her, worrying I’ve messed things up … to see that she’s sleeping. Her hands are still on her controller and they’re resting in her lap. This is a super-comfy couch. I don’t blame her for drifting off. It’s late, and we’ve been talking and playing a long time. It’s actually flattering that she felt comfortable enough with me to fall asleep.
I gently lift her controller from her with the arm she’s not leaning against and take her character back to the safehouse for her. Then I use my legs to pull my ottoman closer to rest my legs on top of it. I carefully shift Malia so I can put my arm around her, pulling her against my chest. She sighs but doesn’t resist.
“I should go home,” she murmurs in a sleep-drunk voice.
I smile. “Nah,” I say softly.
She sighs again and doesn’t say anything more. I settle in, taking my character on a walk around the embassy, looking for familiar faces.
Not how I pictured my night ending up when I asked Malia to go to the wedding with me—it’s so much better.
CHAPTER 10
MALIA
The alarm on my phone wakes me at eight a.m. I stir and wonder why my bed feels wrong. Too soft. Something is off. I draw in a long breath, then stretch an arm and open my eyes.
To find that I am snuggled up with Caleb Gallagher on the couch in his gaming room.
I give a little gasp. I don’t want to move from this beautiful place that is Caleb’s arms, but my phone is playing a soft wake-up song that’s going to get louder if I don’t find it quickly. I sit up, pushing hair out of my face and scanning for my phone. Despite the song getting louder, it’s still muffled. A clue that it’s probably between the couch cushions.
