I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.
But I hadn’t fooled him. Of course I hadn’t.
His lip tugged up at one edge. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He held my gaze another second, then turned away. “But just know, I take it personally.”
The teasing in his voice unlocked mine. “Take what personally?”
He grabbed the Affection Puff. “Your cheapening the pain of every legitimate four-eyes like me by wearing glasses when youdon’t need them. It’s offensive.” He winked at me and grabbed the door handle to leave.
Tomorrow was Sunday. What would he do about our daily question then? Show up on my doorstep? Float down to my balcony like Superman and Lois Lane?
Grant opened the door, and I straightened, remembering something.
“Tanner got back to me,” I said. “He asked if we could do brunch on Monday.”
Grant paused. “Brunch, huh?” The way he said it made me think that that one word told him a whole lot of things about Tanner that I hadn’t put together.
“I’ll text you the information,” I said. “But it’s okay if you can’t come.”
He smiled. “Nice try. See you at brunch.” The door closed behind him, and there was one stupid thought in my head:What about tomorrow?
THIRTEEN
There wasno doorstep appearance or balcony drop-in on Sunday. Just a text with the question.
Now that Grant had used his one pass, the temptation to ask him something truly and deeply invasive pestered me like a fly desperate to find its way out of a window left slightly ajar.
I countered it by asking him what his dream career would be. He said he wanted to write for The Sentinel—only one of the biggest, most respected publications in the country. He’d probably manage it, honestly. He seemed like one of those people who just…reached their goals.
He didn’t come into the office Monday morning before brunch. I almost texted him to ask if he was taking a sick day.
It would’ve made sense if the thought of his missing the date was liberating. No matter which way you spun it, having an observer at a date was like inviting your mom to watch your first kiss. It just wasn’t normal.
But there was also a sense of safety in having Grant there. I’d insisted to him that Matchify did everything we could to keep our users safe from bad actors, but there was nothing like using the app myself to help drive home the vulnerability of meeting up with a stranger.
I drove to the brunch spot, parked in a covered city lot, and didn’t bother trying to roll in late this time. I’d learned my lesson. I’d gone more casual today—slim but flowy navy pants, a creamy knit sweater, and leather ballet flats.
As I reached The Brunch Society, I tucked my hairbehind my ears and heard Grant’s voice in my head.That’s how you like it, right?
I clenched my eyes shut and shook off the breathless feeling, then stepped inside. It was a trendy little place with a white-and-grey honeycomb patterned floor, wood tables, and black chairs. It buzzed with chatter, and I scanned the shop for Tanner. Or was I looking for Grant? He’d certainly be easier to spot, given that I’d only ever seen pictures of Tanner.
I didn’t see either of them, though, so I asked the hostess for a table for two.
I only had to wait a couple minutes before she led me to one by a window. I sipped my water as the minutes ticked by, content to people-watch. Maybe Tanner wouldn’t show after all. Or maybe he was hiding in some nearby topiaries.
My phone buzzed on the table, and I picked it up.
Grant
He probably stayed up too late doing homework and slept through his alarm. Or maybe his mom had to take his sister to soccer practice.
Masking a smile, I looked up and searched the room for him.
The phone buzzed again.
At your eight o’clock
I turned in that direction, and he winked at me from a table, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. How had I missed his arrival?
