I should’ve done that days ago.
Instead, I’ve been skulking around like some lovesick idiot while a magical app stalks my mate around town for me.
Reg folds his arms.
“Well?”
I run a hand through my hair and sigh again.
“You realize she hates me, right?”
Reg shrugs.
“The message she sent through the website contact form said—and I quote—‘Take your striped ass off my website and go lick a cactus.’”
Reg loses it.
He doubles over laughing.
I’m considering murder.
“You deserved that,” he wheezes.
“Thanks for the support.”
“But listen,” he says, straightening up. “That means she’s mad.”
“No shit.”
“It’s good! If she was indifferent? That would be bad.”
He shrugs.
I pause.
“So, you’re saying she likes me cause she’s mad at me?”
“She wouldn’t bother telling you to lick a cactus if she didn’t care, Robbie.”
I think about the last thing she texted me.
“Don’t call me Robbie, fuckface.”
“Come on, what’s a little nickname between brothers?”
I stare at him.
“Okay, fine. No brotherly love! But seriously, Rob, the whole attitude is a Bear thing. She’s flirting.”
“That is absolutely not flirting.”
“Sure it is,” he says cheerfully. “If she hated you she’d ignore you.”
My Tiger pauses mid-pace.
Reg grins.
“Go to the ice cream shop. Order a triple scoop.”
