This is a deep topic for someone I only just “met.” I haven’t even mentioned my thoughts to Karli. She’d invite me to her family’s holiday celebrations in an instant, but I don’t want to be the pity guest.
MichaelB22: No. I support that decision.
I let out a breath, not realizing this was what I’d needed. Someone’s support. It feels nice to be encouraged for a change, instead of being coerced in the direction someone else has chosen for me.
But that’s enough parent talk for the night.
NotthatJuliet: My friend is the only reason I’m on this app.
MichaelB22:Should I call and thank her now or wait until the wedding?
I shake my head at his flirtations and flip my hair off my shoulder, but a strand gets stuck in a curiously sticky spot on the stall wall.
Ew.
NotthatJuliet: She also dragged me out of the house tonight, and now I’m hiding in a horrid bathroom of a stinky bar, but I would rather be at home,asleep.
MichaelB22: Hey same!
MichaelB22: Well, not the stuck in the bathroom part. Or the bar part.
MichaelB22: Okay, so it’s not the same thing at all. But I’d rather have a quiet night overjust about anything.
I smile. If I believed in fate, I’d think I’dfound my person.
Chapter 6
Michael
“Dude, get off your phone and come play,” Sean hollers.
Every Friday night, my brothers, Grant, and a few old friends play basketball. Lately, itmakes me feel antsy instead of relieving my stress. I should be at work, focusing on one of the many jobs we are currently behind on. But if I can’t be at work, I’d rather be home, preferably cuddled up with a beautiful girl while we watch some romant— I mean, action movie.
“Just a sec,” I mutter and read her latest message.
NotthatJuliet: Maybe you have a shot after all.
I turn away from the guys, so they can’t see me grinning at my phone like an idiot.
I like her. Enough to want to take her out on a real date. I wish I could remember where I know her from. Maybe we dated before?
No. I wouldn’t have forgotten someone like her. Maybe we had a class together at some point. But I don’t remember much of my college days. I’ve only been out of school a couple years, but it feels like a lifetime.
MichaelB22: That’sallI need. (I’m a good shot.)
I pick up a ball and send it sailing from my spot on the edge of the court. It hits the corner of the backboard and ricochets off faster than a bullet right into Sean’s stomach.
He folds in half and sputters out a choice word.
That’s what I was aiming for.
Sean straightens and points a glare at me. “I call guarding Michael,” he yells to the rest of the group.
Thirty minutes later, Sean has worked out his anger on not only me but apparently the entire world. Not even his teammates were spared a bruise. Or three.
“I’m out, guys.” Grant calls it.
Thank goodness, I didn’t want to be the first to quit.
