“I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” I say, touched she’s bothering to ask my opinion. “Tommy will love Josh.”
I struggled to pay attention after talking to Otto last night, but it was impossible not to notice how happy Cassidy and Josh were the entire evening. If they don’t last this time, I’ll lose what little faith in love I’ve managed to retain through my parents’ divorce and my own unhappy endings.
Cassidy smiles. That was obviously the answer she was hoping to hear.
Yet my sister still lingers on the steps, which is surprising, until she says, “Walker asked Josh for your number.”
I haven’t thought about Walker since saying goodbye to him last night, which bodes poorly for a romantic relationship. As does the fact that he lives in Hoboken and works in a Manhattan high-rise. If I wanted a long-distance relationship, I’d date…someone else.
But Otto isn’t an option. He’s my coach and my ex, and he might be reconciling with his former fiancée. He proposed to someone else. Whatever reason their relationship ended, they intended to get married. Solid, irrefutable evidence he’s moved on.
And I haven’t. I’ve tried to, but I haven’t fallen in love since him. I’ve told myself it will happen, half-heartedly believing it—because I haven’t needed to believe it. I’ve avoided thinking about Otto, just like I’ve avoided seeing my dad—because it’s easier.
“Claire?” Cassidy prompts.
I forgot she was here. Maybe Mom was right; gardening is therapeutic.
I glance up. “Give it to him.”
Cassidy tilts her head, studying me rather than celebrating her matchmaking skills, like I thought she would. “You sure? You didn’t seem that…into him.”
“I liked him,” I insist, which is true.
She nods slowly. “Okay. I’ll give Josh the go-ahead.”
“Cool,” I say, grabbing another tuber.
Still, Cassidy lingers. “How was practice?”
My sister has never, not once, asked me that.
“Fine,” I answer.
“Really? You seem sort of…upset.”
“Just tired.”
“I’d ask if it was for any fun reason, but you came home with me last night, not your date.”
I manage a small smile.
“I looked him up.”
“Walker?” I ask, confused.
“Otto Berger.”
I glance up, heart pounding. “What—why would you do that?”
“I was curious.”
“Josh doesn’t mind that you research other men?”
Cassidy rolls her eyes, then leans forward. “Why does Mom have a book with a killer named Otto Serger?”
I play dumb. “What?”
“Don’t bullshit me, Claire. You’ve read all her books. You never noticed one of her villains had almost the exact same name as your coach?”
