One I don’t mind people finding. “I’m changing it this afternoon to NotLindy.”
“Your grade just dropped to a D. Speaking of which, I really like the server design you’ve got going. Do a presentation on it in class and I’ll give you extra credit.”
“I have the highest score in the class. I don’t need extra credit,” I protest.
“Do the presentation and I’ll buy the drinks next time.”
“And dinner,” I say, taking a clean bowl and spoon out of the dishwasher and pouring myself a bowl of cereal.
“You cheap bastard,” Lindy huffs. “Fine, dinner.”
“Deal. When am I up?”
“Next class.”
“Hey, I have things to do between now and then.”
“Tough. If I’m buying dinner, too, you’re presenting next class. Call me if you have any questions about what I sent you.”
“Will do. Thanks, man.”
“You’re welcome. See you Thursday. And make sure to send me your slides in advance. You wouldn’t believe what a ball-ache loading them up onto the school intranet is.”
I rub my forehead. Slides? Fuck. “Fine,” I grumble.
“Bye.” Lindy hangs up without waiting for me to say it, since I’ve given him the abbreviated version of why I don’t.
While I’m eating my cereal, I text Ty and Logan, then read over the report Lindy’s sent me. I spend a happy two hours putting up new firewalls and only realize I’ve lost track of time when my phone buzzes.
Logan: Are you coming or what?
Shit.
Sorry, lost track of time. On my way.
I do one last test of my new firewall and leave it running while I change into a T-shirt and shorts, do a quick wash, and brush my teeth. On my way out the door, I check the fridge to see what I have in for dinner and type a quick list of things I need into my phone. Oat milk tops the list.
Logan looks worse but clearly feels better when I arrive at his townhouse. I give him a hug because I’m still getting past that hideous clutch of fear at the idea of losing him, then give Emmy a hug, just because she’s Emmy, before I throw myself on her mercy.
“Cynnie’s coming over for dinner tonight. Anything she doesn’t like? I know she has a dairy allergy.”
Emily beams, the little minx. “She likes almost anything, but she loves peanut butter and green beans.”
My stomach twists. “Uh, together?”
“No, silly.” She beckons me after her as she walks through the great room into the kitchen. “I have a really good recipe for sesame chicken. Super-easy and lots of peanut butter. There isn’t actually any butter in peanut butter, so it’s safe for her. You can put green beans on the side. Sauté the green beans in sesame oil instead of butter. She’s okay with diary in stuff that’s been baked, so bread is okay.”
“I make a mean garlic bread.”
“That would be really nice with the sesame chicken,” Emily says.
“Okay, thanks for this, girlie-girl. Can you text me the recipe?”
Emily nods and goes up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “Relax and be yourself with Cynnie. She’s going to love you. I know you were holding back yesterday.”
I shake my head at her, irritated by my own transparency.
“It’s okay,” Emily says quickly. “I only noticed because I know you well. No one else thought so.”
