Page 55 of Off the Wall

Chapter Eighteen

Nori

“Itoldyou axe throwing would be cathartic.”

Warren splays his hands, like he’s offering me a mobile lecture. The Camelot-themed restaurant had us drinking from chalices and eating with our bare hands, so we’re walking from his minivan to my building with traces of meat grease on our palms. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“You were right,” I respond with the same false brightness I’ve employed during all my Swipe Rite dates. Except withextrafalsity this time. Because of all the axes.

And all the Snuze.

Let’s be real: If I didn’t need the money so badly, I would’ve fled the restaurant the minute I clocked that all-too-familiar undershirt. But I signed a contract. I was obligated to eat, drink, and be axey. I’ll bet the footage Swipe Rite got of me gnawing a mutton leg gets lots of play.

I stayed for you, Dorothy.

And for you, Serendipi-Tea.

For the record, no other Swipe Rite date has seen where I live. But thanks to our original setup—courtesy of Great-Auntie Pearl—Warren already knows I have an apartment at The Serendipity.

Since Dorothy’s in the shop and I couldn’t ride Cash’s bike all the way to Sir Axe-A-Lot, I’d ordered a ride share to the restaurant. It was expensive, but I was desperate. So when Warren offered to take me home, I decided ten more minutes with him was worth the money I’d save.

After all, I’m hardly worried about looking cheap and desperate in front of him.

At this point, I just want my less-than-great Swipe Rite date to be over.

I’m going to pop some popcorn. Open a box of Oreos. Enjoy the kind of food that’ssupposedto be eaten without a knife and fork.

“I love Sir Axe-A-Lot.” Warren flashes me a grin with at least four too many teeth. As per usual, he’s been doing the lion’s share of the talking. “I go there all the time. The mutton weeds out vegetarians.”

I huff out a laugh. “That ought to do it.”

We’ve reached the cement steps of my building. And as far as I’m concerned, we’ve also reached the end of our evening.

This was my most awkward date by far, but the truth is, something’s been missing with all the men, even the best ones. I kept hoping for that extra ingredient that gets my stomach fluttering. But the rumble I’m feeling now is less about butterflies and more about mutton.

“I still can’t believe I got matched with you.” Warren grins at me under the light of a streetlamp. I hunch my shoulders.

“You sure did.”

“So, when can I see you again?”

Oof. Five dates in, and I’m still beyond terrible at this part. I don’t want to hurt Warren’s feelings. And there’sprobably a fair maiden out there who would love to throw axes with him. But I’m not her, and there won’t be a next time for me.

“Sorry, but you know the rules.” I offer a semi-sincere apology. “No second dates before I pick my final match.”

This earns me another grin. At this point, I’m pretty sure Warren Snuze has nothing but incisors in his mouth. “Technically, tonight was our second date, so we’d be going on our third date. Loophole.”

“Maybe, but I can’t risk breaking my contract,” I say. And I certainly won’t risk ten thousand dollars for a third date with Sir Eats-With-His-Hands-A-Lot.

It’s not you, Warren.

It’s the mutton.

Okay. It’s also you.

Speaking of greasy palms, I stick out my hand for a final friendly shake. “So, thanks again for a truly one-of-a-kind evening.”

“At least let me give you something to remember our night by.” He closes his eyes and leans in for a kiss. That’s when I finally get a real reaction from my insides. But it’s not the kind I’m looking for. I’m seriously about to hurl at the thought of his lips on mine.

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