Page 22 of Sweeter Than Fiction

“What?”

He sets everything on the counter. “Oh, it’s dumb. Don’t worry about it. I came here to focus all my attention on you.”

“Well, don’t I feel special?”

“You should.” He hands me one of the coffees. “Iced caramel latte with almond milk.”

“Thank you. Now, why don’t you tell me exactly what you were thinking when you set me up with that jerk?”

He wiggles his mouth back and forth trying to get past his nerves. “Hooking you up with Justin wasn’t exactly the plan.”

“I’m going to need more information.”

“Originally, I wanted to set you up with Grant, a guy I work with at the gym. I think you two would have really hit it off. The trouble was that Grant had an emergency with his grandma. She fell or something. I don’t know; it doesn’t matter. Anyway, Grant said that he had a buddy that had been staying with him and could go instead. I never figured that he would be such an ass. I didn’t think he’d say all those terrible things about you.”

“Yeah, he was really a piece of wo—” I stop. “Wait a minute. How do you know what he said about me? I didn’t give you any details in my messages.”

He taps a finger on the side of his plastic cup. “Well,” he draws out the word. “He came into work to give Grant some hell for setting him up with you. I heard him talking shit, so I punched him in the face—which is why I got suspended.”

“Aw, you punched somebody for me? That’s so sweet of you. Look at you, being all masculine and shit.” I hold my hand over my heart.

“Someone had to teach that prick a lesson. And I wasn’t going to continue to listen to him say awful things about my best friend.”

“Why didn’t you answer the phone and tell me all this when I called?”

“Because you’re scary when you’re mad. Look, Abby, I should’ve vetted this guy better. That’s a hundred percent on me, but I just wanted you to get out and have a good time.”

“I know you worry about me, but I need you to just chill out a little.”

“It’s just hard.”

“I think you owe it to me after this shit show. Just because you like going out and partying doesn’t mean that’s how I want to spend my time. I like hanging out at home. If I am going to eventually be with someone, he’ll like that too.”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

“Then, he’s not the right guy for me.” I take a swig of the coffee. “You know probably better than anyone that I have my routines and my habits. If I stray from those, my anxiety shoots through the roof. Then, no one’s having a good time.”

He laughs. “I do know that.”

“Once upon a time, you liked hanging out at home with me.”

“I still do.” He shoots me a wink. “But I also like getting laid. And usually, to do that, I have to venture outside of the house.”

With my best shocked face, I say, “So, you mean to tell me Prince Charming isn’t going to just show up at my door?”

“Oh, if only it were that easy. But how about you and I hang out tonight? We can lay on the couch and watch trashy reality TV, and eat junk food.”

Jenson and I haven’t done that in forever, and it sounds great. But I already have plans with Don. Sure, we’re just doing the same thing we’ve done the past few evenings, but I’ve grown to look forward to it. I find myself excited at the idea of him coming over—which is completely insane.

Because it sounds so absurd, I choose not to say it out loud to Jenson. I don’t feel like answering a million questions at the moment.

“As much fun as that sounds, I actually have to work tonight,” I lie.

“What? Why do you have to work? Don’t you technically make your own hours?”

“Yes, but I have a huge project I need to finish, and I’m already wasting time sitting here with you,” I tease.

“Okay, okay. But you have to put up with me a little while longer.”

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