Page 68 of Best Served Cold

He grunts. “Well, think about what I said.” He gestures to my handiwork again. “Crafting, I mean. Would you like me to list the dress?”

I think about what it felt like to wear the dress, like I was a desirable, beautiful woman. The kind of woman a man would be proud to marry.

But I bought the dress for Jonah. To impress him and make him proud. And now that I’ve had my one day with it, I don’t want it anymore.

I nod. “Please. It’s dead to me.”

“Women are so melodramatic.”

“Says the man who’s so obsessed with Briar he turned down a fictional date with Hannah.”

He sighs. “Touché.” Only he pronounces ittoosh.

He goes to leave, then pauses, giving me a sidelong look. “I think we’re both going to be okay, Soph.”

I smile at him, feeling a sweet warmth in my chest. I never had a brother. Or a sister. Or even a dog. So I wasn’t sure what to do with Otis when I first moved here. But it feels like we’re becoming closer, more like siblings. He’s buying spoons for me, and I’m making him pancakes, and we’re supporting each other’s dreams. That’s something. Maybe even a lot.

“Thanks, Otis,” I say, and then I rush forward and hug him. He’s sticky with syrup, and probably half terrified, but it feels good.

He pulls back and pats me on the shoulder with a goofy smile on his face, then leaves the kitchen. He missed a big shard of the broken dish, but at least he tried.

I clean it up and then retrieve my phone, carrying it over to the small kitchen table. My heart pumps faster as I get closer to the moment when I’ll be able to check my messages, but I tell myself that’s normal. It’s only because I’m anxious about this mess I’ve created for myself.

I unlock the phone’s screen and look at Rob’s latest texts like they’re a present I’ve unwrapped.

Perfect. That gives us time to prepare. Want to meet up after your shift tonight?

We could get a late dinner.

My heart beats faster, giving me away to myself.

Fake date.

Anything else would be impossible. He’s Jonah’s brother, for one thing, and for another, I just got out of a relationship that fell apart in a spectacular mess. I’m not ready for another.

Even so, my heart warms as I text him back.

We could. Should we?

Yes.

Jonah’s favorite restaurant is Curate, but I don’t know how late it’s open.

Couldn’t give a fuck what his favorite restaurant is. What’s yours?

My mouth forms an ‘O’ as I try to process that. He’d said we should go places where Jonah might see us, but this…

He’s asking me whereIwant to go. Admittedly, there aren’t that many places open after ten, but there are some. I write:

I like pizza.

Thank God. I’d worry about you otherwise.

I know just the place.

I’ll pick you up from the brewery.

What a good fake boyfriend.

---