* * *
Cat’s sittingat the breakfast bar when I get home.
“Hey.” I drop my bag and kick off my shoes. “What are you doing for New Year’s? Geoff and I thought maybe we could throw a party here.”
Her eyes light up. “That’s a great idea! We should totally do that.”
I grin, firing off a text to Geoff. He sends back a row of salsa dancer emojis that makes me laugh.
“What are you up to tonight?” I pad into the kitchen, surveying the takeout bag on the counter.
“I have a date.”
“Ooh! Who with?”
“Someone I matched with on Tinder.” She stuffs some fries in her mouth. “His name’s Kyle.”
I pull a half-full bottle of wine from the fridge. “Why do you do all this? Like, why not just wait and see if you meet someone? Why all the dating apps and that?”
“Because I want a relationship. It’s not like it’s a biological clock thing, or anything—I don’t want kids. But... it would be nice to meet a good guy.”
I nod as I slide onto a seat at the breakfast bar beside her.
“It’s hard work, though,” she continues around a mouthful of burger. “All the dressing up, all the effort of putting your best foot forward, not letting them see your faults and all that. It’s like going on a job interview.”
I take a long sip of wine. “Why not just be yourself?”
“Dating is like a sport, here. There are all these unspoken rules and it just feels like a test, the whole time. But… you have to play the game if you want to win.” She shrugs, taking a big bite of her burger and chewing thoughtfully. “It’s not like I’m not picky,” she says after a while. “I know what I want, and that’s someone who’s nothing like my ex.”
“What’s your ex like?”
“Ugh. Mark’s a dick.” Cat makes a face, flicking through her phone and showing me a picture. On the screen is a guy with dark mussed hair and gray-blue eyes. He’s holding a leather jacket over one shoulder, hooked on his finger like guys do when they think they’re cool, and there’s a silver chain around his neck. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is, but there’s something kind of slimy about him.
“He thinks he’s so cool with his tattoos and his ripped jeans. And he flirts with womenconstantly—he even did it when we were together. He just drives me nuts. So basically anyone who is the opposite of him has a chance.” She picks up her burger, taking another bite. I reach for a fry but she bats my hand away.
“Why are you eating now? You’re not going to dinner?”
“No, we are. But I usually order a salad on a date, so the guy doesn’t think I’m a pig. Then I end up starving like an hour later.”
I snort, pushing off the stool and wandering over to my bedroom nook. “Is Mel going out with you tonight?”
“No.” Cat stands and tosses the takeout bag in the garbage. “I think she’s started seeing someone, but she won’t tell me anything about him.”
“Yeah, she mentioned something at brunch, but she wouldn’t tell me much. Do you think she’s waiting to see if it becomes serious first?”
Cat leans against the kitchen counter. “I’m not sure. Usually she’s pretty open when she’s dating someone. But for some reason she has been quiet about this one.” She shrugs, then wanders into the bathroom and runs the shower.
I recline on my bed, my phone vibrating with a text. When I see it’s from Michael, pleasure sings through my bloodstream.
Michael: Hey! What are you up to tomorrow afternoon? I thought of another classic New York place you need to see.
Well, that sounds interesting. And what a great opportunity for me to test my we-can-just-be-friends theory.
Alex: I’m free, what were you thinking?
Michael: It’s a surprise. Pick you up at 3 p.m.
A surprise? My stupid heart skitters about with excitement, and I make myself inhale deeply.We’re just friends, for God’s sake. My body isn’t listening, but it’s fine.
