“Because a match came through for Mom today, and it was you,” Tyler said. “Robbie used his compatibility predictor, and you two have the best rating so far. Ninety-nine percent. Isn’t that crazy?”
I shifted, uncomfortable.
“How long have you been on there?” Seraphina asked.
“Recently.”
“How recently?” Tyler asked.
“A few nights ago,” I said under my breath.
“What made you go on there?” Seraphina asked.
I looked at her, knowing I should just fess up. “I made a profile so I could see yours. That’s the truth.”
She looked at me for a long moment through narrowed eyes, her shoulders lifted. “Why did you want to do that?”
“I was curious,” I said. “And hoping to get to know you better.”
An awkward silence ensued where we all pretended to be really into our food.
“I wrote her profile,” Tyler said finally. “I think I did a great job.”
“I agree,” I said. “Especially putting in her favorite song.”
Seraphina nudged me with her elbow. “Now, don’t tease me about that. The song’s sacred to me.”
“I would never tease you about loving one of my songs.”
“Did you see any profiles on there that interested you?” Seraphina looked back up at me, unflinching this time, a twinkle of flirtation in her eyes.
“Only one. I didn’t need to look any further.”
“Is that right?” Seraphina asked.
“I’m kind of a one profile at a time type of man,” I said.
Tyler glanced from one of us to the other, and then seemed to make a decision. “I see some friends up front. I’m going to say hello.”
After he was gone, neither of us spoke. Finally, she said, “I think Tyler might be a one profile type of guy, and yours is the one he’s set his heart on.”
“Is that a problem?” I asked.
“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. These kids are kind of pushy.” She placed one elbow on the table top and rested her cheek in her hand, watching me.
“I find it hilarious they took it upon themselves. But their success rate is climbing, so maybe they’re on to something?”
“Maybe.”
“I’m thinking we should just give in. Admit defeat. We’ve been set up.”
“The guitar lessons?” Seraphina asked.
“What do they call that in romance novels?”
“Forced proximity.” She smiled, shaking her head. “These kids are too smart.”
“Do you think baseball practice really ran late the other day?” I asked.
