Page 30 of Meant to Be

But this wasmyfirst time, and apparently the same was true for Curtis, because he sighed and said, “He’s even hotter in person. Look at those legs. Ican’thandle it.”

“I know,” I said, squinting into the sun, then shielding my eyes to get a better look. He was wearing black athletic shorts, a gray sweatshirt, and a rainbow-striped beanie, complete with a big red pom-pom. It was equal parts adorable and absurd.

“And I love Thursday,” Curtis said.

“Who?”

“His dog. That’s the name of his dog.”

“Oh,” I said, nodding, thinking that there was no bit of celebrity trivia that Curtis didn’t know.

We kept staring as Joe flung a Frisbee toward the ocean and Thursday bounded after it. He leaped into the air, narrowly missing before frantically paddling into the surf as Joe clapped, either caught up in the moment or aware that he had an audience. The latter seemed more likely.

“Mercy,” Curtis breathed. “That’s thesexiestman to ever walk the Earth. Dead or alive.”

“Dead men can’t walk,” I said, blowing my nose. I was starting to catch a cold.

Curtis pushed my hand away from my face, then blended themakeup around my nose with an egg-shaped sponge before turning back to gawk at Joe.

“I wonder if he’s still with Margaret Braswell—”

“Margaret Braswell?” I said, remembering the petite brunette Joe had dated when he was at Harvard. I hadn’t heard her name in years. “I thought he was dating Phoebe Mills?”

“God, girl. Keep up. He got back together with Margaret ages ago.”

“Oh. I didn’t know,” I said, memories returning of my Joe Kingsley stalking days. How much those pictures of him had brought me comfort, especially that one of him on the beach with the shark’s tooth necklace. I smiled to myself, thinking how incredible it was that we were both here now, in the Hamptons. My thirteen-year-old self wouldn’t have believed it.

Suddenly, Joe turned and tossed the Frisbee again, this time away from the shoreline, in our direction. It sailed through the air, landing just feet away from us.

“Oh my God,” Curtis said. “He did that on purpose.”

“No, he didn’t,” I said as Thursday ran toward us, and Joe followed him.

“Hesodid,” Curtis hissed under his breath, barely able to contain his excitement. “He wants to meet you.”

“You just said he’s dating Margaret?”

“So what? Maybe they just broke up. Or…maybe they’re about to break up. If you get my drift.”

“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes, as Thursday bypassed the Frisbee and trotted over to our chairs.

Curtis kneeled to pet him, saying, “Good boy, Thursday! The best boy, aren’t you?”

“You’re shameless,” I added under my breath, shaking my head as Joe caught up to his dog.

“Get over here, you rascal,” Joe said. He then looked up at us and said, “Gosh, I’m sorry. He never listens!”

“Don’t be sorry. He’s adorable!” Curtis gushed. “What’s his name?”

Shameless,I thought again, as Joe told him what he already knew.

“Thursday! What a cute name! How’d you come up with that?”

“ ’Cause I adopted him on a Thursday,” Joe said. “And it’s the best day of the week. You have the whole weekend to look forward to.”

“Oh my God. Today’s Thursday!” Curtis said. “What are the chances?”

“About one in seven,” I deadpanned.

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