Page 39 of Tricking an Introvert

Maybe.

“Tessa,” he said.

“Ah. Still friend-zoned? According to you at least.”

“You could say that.”

“Hm. You looked quite chummy yesterday.”

Cole sighed. “Yeah. We’re…chummy? Who knows? Not even sure what that means. We’re friends. We get along. We’re getting to know each other.”

“But not in the biblical, naked sense, and you’re not used to that,” Michael guessed. “It’s not a bad thing, you know.”

Cole snorted. “Come on, Michael. When was the last time you had that sort of relationship?”

“I don’t have relationships.”

Michael just boned people he found attractive in the rare moments when he headed out, then he retreated back to his comfort zone.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t understand them. I’m a writer. I study people. Attraction is great. It doesn’t last. Eventually, you’ll both get wrinkles, gray hair, and what’ll be left is the laughs, the smiles, the conversation, and the memories. Starting there sounds like a brilliant idea to me. Food for thought.”

Cole was ruminating over Michael’s words as they headed out of the dojang when he heard it. A violent screech, followed by a yelp and the sound of tires skidding on the road.

He rushed forward, phone in hand, expecting the scene of an accident on the main road.

It was worse.

On the side of the road, there was a small brown and white bundle of fur flat on the ground, and in the distance, a red car was retreating at high speed.

“What the fuck?” Michael said, his voice dark.

Cole blinked. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Those despicable, poor excuses for human beings had just dumped the dog out of their car and taken off.

Fuck.

Fuck.

What now?

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