“Coffee?” Nick asks, already reaching for a mug.
“Please. I’m basically nonfunctional without it.”
“I don’t know…you functioned pretty well just a few minutes ago.”
He looks so cute as he meets my gaze, a slight blush on his cheeks, that I can’t help but move forward to reel him in for a kiss.
His lips are soft under mine, and he melts into me immediately, his hands coming up to rest on my chest. It’s agentle kiss, unhurried, the kind of kiss that says, “I’m not going anywhere.”
We’re both smiling when we break apart.
Nick starts puttering around the kitchen, and I’m struck by how domestic this feels. How easy. With Nick, it feels like all of the excitement of a new relationship, but also the comfort of an established one.
“I need to use your bathroom,” I say.
“Down the hall, try not to judge us for the state of it.”
The bathroom is exactly what you’d expect from two college students—half-empty products everywhere, a shower curtain that’s seen better days, and a towel that should be classified as a biohazard.
I can hear Nick moving around in the kitchen through the thin walls—the clink of mugs, the hiss of the ancient coffee maker.
I’m just washing my hands when I hear a door creak open and shuffling footsteps.
“Nick?” It’s a girl’s voice. “How did it go last night? Is your internet boyfriend a sixty-year-old serial killer?”
I quickly dry my hands and open the door in time to see a girl stumbling toward the coffee maker, dressed in oversized pajamas and fuzzy slippers.
“It went…well,” Nick says carefully, glancing toward where I’m now standing in the doorway.
“Just well? Come on, I need details. Is he cute? Is he actually in his twenties? Did he—” She turns around, coffee mug in hand, and sees me.
“Hey, you must be Jade,” I say.
Jade’s mouth drops open and she drops the cup of coffee she’s holding. It hits the floor with a crash, coffee exploding everywhere, but she doesn’t even seem to notice.
“What the fuck?” she says faintly.
“So,” Nick says, stepping over the coffee puddle, “funny story about the guy I’ve been messaging…”
“What the fuck!”
“I told you he kept saying he was Anthony Devine.”
“I thought that was a joke!”
“Technically, I did tell him multiple times that I was actually Anthony Devine,” I offer helpfully. “He just didn’t believe me.”
Jade points at me without looking away from Nick. “Is this real? Am I having a stroke? Did I drink too much last night, and this is some kind of weird hallucination?”
“All valid questions,” Nick says. “But no, you’re not hallucinating. My catfish turned out to be exactly who he said he was.”
“I need to sit down.” Jade stumbles backward, her slippers splashing through the coffee. “I need… I need an adult.”
“You are an adult,” Nick points out.
“A different adult. An adultier adult. Someone who can explain whyAnthony Devineis in our kitchen looking like he just…” She waves vaguely at both of us. “Oh my god.Oh my god.”
“Would you like me to clean that up?” I offer, pointing at the spilled coffee.
