Utterly shocked, I stare at my screen. Whatthe actual fuck? How can Stefano be an even bigger asshole than I thought? Kate sends more.
Kate
He’ll probably do some jail time and be registered as a sex offender for the rest of his life! Isn’t this crazy?! And that timing… It has to be Oli, right?
The timing is indeed too perfect to be coincidental. I look at Oli, who’s busy debugging an app on one of the testing phones. Did he do that? From what I know, he has the skills and the spine to pull it off.
Me
It was probably him, yes.
Kate
Shit, the pastries weren’t enough. Tell him I’ll have his babies.
I chuckle low and put the phone down before sending another look at the back of Oliver’s messy red hair. Feeling grateful and indebted, I reopen our conversation on the messaging app.
Andrea Walker: Thank you again for this weekend. Thanks for everything.
Oliver Paulson: You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help your friend out.
It’s a shame that Kate and Oli live three hours apart because I’m convinced they’d get along well. Oli is basically my male counterpart, and Kate loves the shit out of me. Really, it would be a phenomenal match, and it would literally solve everyone’s problems.
Andrea Walker: Well, just know she’s eternally grateful for all you did. She just told me she wanted your babies.
Oliver’s chuckle is loud enough for me to hear it.
Oliver Paulson: You can tell her I’m touched by the thought, lmao. But the pastries are enough. They’re delicious.
Knowing she’d be pissed that I overshared but still amused, I grab my phone to tell her. It buzzes in my hand the moment I do. I expect it to be Kate, but Lex’s name is on the screen instead. The sudden lightness I feel vanishes, and concern takes its place.
Right, I still have to make up for my tactless exit—escape—yesterday. I read his message and stare at it for a while, confused.
Alexander Coleman: Did you know there are two definitions of what a month is? It can be the lapse between the same dates in successive calendar months, from September 2nd to October 2nd, for instance. It can also be a period of four weeks, from one Monday to four Mondays after that.
It takes me an embarrassing amount of time to get it.
A month.
According to the second definition, our thing started in his kitchen a month ago. Today could mark the end of our trial period.
This is our make-or-break point. The moment of truth. This is when we decide what we are and what we will become.
I know exactly what I want, but what doeshewant?
Until yesterday, things were so smooth that this probation period slipped my mind. I’ve known for a while now that I want to take whatever we have to the next level. And I suspect that Lex wants a lot more of me, too. But my stupid insecurities kick in. What if he doesn’t? What if he remembers he doesn’t do relationships?
I see him type, and I wait, impatient and apprehensive.
Alexander Coleman: So, I was wondering, Walker, what definition do you think is more accurate?
Although the tone is usually hard to guess in a text, it doesn’t feel like he’s sour or annoyed. He sounds… playful. Feeling more confident, I send him my answer, nibbling on my bottom lip.
Andrea Walker: I like four weeks better. It’s simpler, more precise, and you don’t get random intervals of days between each month.
Around me, the guys stand up to head out to lunch, but I don’t budge, waiting for Lex’s answer. Brian stops by me, pointing a finger toward the door. “Aren’t you coming?”
“I’ll join you guys later.”
