The Match: An EXTENDED edition rom-com from the author of the TikTok sensation THE CHEAT SHEET! (It

Chapter 22

“Where do you want to go dress shopping this weekend?” Jo asks me around a bite of salad.

“Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Just prepare to get something skimpy to show off those legs for Jake.”

I give Jo a flat look. “First of all, I want a man who likes me for more than my body. And second, shouldn’t you be the one telling me this? You’re in your sixties. How am I the mature one here?”

Jo shrugs and steals a fry from my plate. “Now, why would I tell you something you already know? I’m pretty sure all you ever think about is how to be upstanding. Think of me as your fairy godmother.” She waves the fry like a wand over my head. “Bibbidi-bobbidi, do yourself a favor and live a little.”

I shake my head at my fairy godmother and take a bite of my burger.

My phone buzzes on the table with a new text, and I see the name Jake written across my screen. Jo sees it too and wags her eyebrows suggestively while reaching for my phone. I snatch it off the table and clutch it close to my chest before she gets a chance to swipe it open. “No one likes a Nosey Nelly.”

“Even fewer people like a Boring Bessy.” She steals another fry, and I smack her hand playfully.

I angle myself away from Jo, and I swipe open my phone.

JAKE: Only two more days until our date. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen you.

I smile because it has felt like a long time. Jake and I haven’t seen each other since the pool party last Saturday. It’s Wednesday now, and I’ve never felt like a week has gone by slower. It’s not that I haven’t been busy. In fact, I’ve been crazy busy training a new group of volunteers who signed up to be puppy raisers. Our newest litter of pups will be ready to leave their mom and go into a volunteer’s home to start learning their basic manners: potty training, don’t chew the rug, sit, and lots and lots of socialization.

Our company literally wouldn’t survive without these volunteers and the time they sacrifice in helping train our dogs. But these weeks of breaking everyone in and teaching them the rules is always exhausting for me.

Not only have I been teaching classes for the volunteers, but I’ve taken three dogs to the vet, had two match meetings with potential recipients, reviewed five new applications, and ignored three texts from my mom reminding me that I need to quit fooling around and do something useful with my life. Something like join the Powder Society of Revolutionary Ladies and drink martinis in the afternoon.

But, in the meantime, Jake and I have been texting every day and talking on the phone almost every night. The more I get to know him, the more I really like him. He’s thoughtful, funny, tender, and truly and completely ripped. I could have chosen to say something sentimental there, but I didn’t, because thoughts of Jake’s ridiculous body keep running through my mind. All intelligent thoughts have melted into steamy nonsense.

This morning I got lost in a fantasy of what would have happened the other night if I hadn’t stopped us, and I accidentally overflowed my coffee all over the counter. If this date on Friday goes well, I’m afraid my brain will be permanently fried.

EVIE: Oh. Is our date in two days? I totally forgot.

JAKE: You’re not funny.

EVIE: *Screenshot of countdown timer, titled: Days until date with Jake.*

JAKE: Better. What time should I call you tonight?

EVIE: I’ll be home by 7.

JAKE: I’ll call you at 7:01. I mean . . . I’ll call you at some vague time after that so you don’t realize how much I like you.

“Oh, he’s good,” says Jo from over my shoulder.

“Hey!” I lock my phone screen again and give her the stink eye. “Mind your own beeswax.”

“My beeswax is boring today. So, tell me, are things going good with you two?”

I can’t hide my smile. “Really good. Too good, actually.”

She rolls her eyes. “Only you would say that when a hot man is being attentive and flirting with you.”

“I know! I don’t want to feel this way, but . . . I have too much experience that’s taught me it won’t last long. Every guy I’ve ever dated has moved on to less epileptic pastures. They’re all in with me until they see one of my episodes and it scares them right out of my life.”

“Yes, and do you know what you oughta say to those types of guys? Don’t let the door hit you where the good Lord split you! Because if you don’t know it already, honey, you’ve been known to date duds.”

My mouth falls open. “What?”

“It’s true. The few guys you’ve dated in the past have all been a few eggs short of a dozen, and way below your level. It’s like you’re so desperate to not end up with anyone like your parents that you swing completely the opposite way. Jake is the first man you’ve ever been interested in that even comes close to being on the same tier as you.”

“Ha! You think I’m on Jake’s level?”

“No.” Her eyes slide to mine, and I see a twinkle. “I said he’s close to being on your level. I don’t think anyone will ever measure up to you. But I get the feeling that Jake will actually try.”

I don’t know what to say. The fact that Jo thinks so highly of me makes me feel weepy. There’s nothing else to do but lean over and wrap her up in a hug and then slide my phone onto the table in front of her.

“Just for that, you get unlimited access to my texts for the next five minutes.”

She wastes no time in picking up my phone and scrolling through every text Jake and I have ever exchanged. While she’s giggling like a teenager, I decide to occupy myself by refilling my water.

I stand up, and Charlie does too, but with a big yawn. Poor guy has been bored to death the past few days. Or maybe exhausted from all the running around and meetings we’ve been to. Either way, I need to devote some special time to take him to the park and throw the ball.

I’m filling up my water at the drink station and mentally planning on taking Charlie to the park on Friday morning so that he won’t feel slighted during my date with Jake—Don’t worry, Charlie, you’ll always be my first love—when I feel the presence of someone else beside me.

I cut my eyes to the side to get a look at whatever weirdo is entering my personal space, and I find an attractive man smirking down at me. He’s not Jacob Broaden attractive, but I’m still human enough to admit he’s good-looking.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” I reply, and I’m a little embarrassed to say it sounds more like a mouse squeak.

Come on, water. Fill faster!

“I’m Garrett.”

Okay. Nice. Cool. So, what’s going on here? This never happens to me. I briefly glance down, worried that maybe Charlie ran away, because men never approach me when Charlie is around. He and his blue vest are a giant man deterrent.

“Evie,” I say with a polite smile and then turn to set my cup on the counter and put the lid back on. Annnnnd then Garrett is beside me again, doing the same with his lid.

“What’s your dog’s name?”

Huh. Okay, so he did see Charlie. And he’s not scared off? I don’t know how I feel about this. Actually, yes, I do. I’m not interested in this guy. Maybe a month ago, before I met Jake, I would have felt flattered. But right now, I just kind of want to extract myself from the conversation as quickly and politely as possible.

“This is Charlie.”

“Sup, Charlie,” he says, and I smile instead of telling him not to distract my dog while he’s working. “Are you from around here?”

Alrighty, then. I guess we are going to do the chitchat thing now.

This is so bizarre. Do men have some kind of scent tracker that helps them sniff out the women in town who are unavailable? Because, I swear, I never got hit on by cute, normal-seeming guys before Jake asked me out.

“Yeah, I am. Are you?”

“Kind of. I just moved here a few months ago, so I’m still trying to get my bearings in the city.”

“That’s nice.”

“I’m actually a physician’s assistant over at Roper Hospital.” Cool, cool, cool. Didn’t ask you, but that’s all right.

“That’s a great hospital.”

“Yeah? You’ve been?” He’s asking like we’re talking about a hot new club that just opened or something. No way, I love that place! Maybe we could go together sometime. I know people who can get you one of the good gowns without stains on it. It’s a strange topic of conversation, but I give him slack because I’m betting he’s just trying to find ways to keep me here talking and will likely want to punch himself later for asking that question.

I laugh lightly. “A few times, yeah.” I glance down at Charlie, and Garrett follows my gaze to the patch that says Seizure-Assist Dog. A look of dawning understanding hits Garrett’s face, and I expect him to start moonwalking away from me any second.

He doesn’t. “Ah—I see. So, look, Evie, this is really forward of me and probably going to creep you out a little, but . . . I think you’re really attractive, and I’d like to take you out sometime if you’re free.”

If I’m free? Does he mean if my schedule is free? Or if my relationship status is single and I’m free to date other people? Because I don’t know. I mean, Jake and I talk every day, we flirt, we’ve kissed a few times, and we have a date on Friday . . . but does that, technically, mean I’m in a relationship?

I cast a quick glance at Jo, hoping she’ll give me a thumbs-up or thumbs-down for what I should do right now, but her eyes are still glued to my phone. Useless. I think she’s even screenshotting text conversations to forward to Gary.

I look back to Garrett and do a quick assessment of him: nice dark hair, well-trimmed beard, taller than me, an open smile. And overall, he’s not setting off any alarms that make me feel like I should ask a security guard to walk me to my car when I leave here.

But the truth is, all I can think about is Jake. I like Jake. I want to date Jake, not this guy. “You seem nice, Garrett, which is why I feel like I should be honest and tell you that I’m sorta-kinda seeing someone.”

Garrett gives me a kind smile and nods. He then reaches into the laptop bag that’s slung over his shoulder and pulls out a pen. After grabbing a clean napkin, he writes his number on it and hands it to me. “Well, since ‘sorta-kinda’ doesn’t sound like you’ve set a wedding date yet, here’s my number. Call me if you find yourself in need of a fun date.”

A voice I hate sounds behind me. “Hitting on my girl? Not cool, dude.” When in the hell did Tyler Murray sneak up behind me? He drops his arm over my shoulder like he owns me.

Tyler pulls the slip of paper with Garrett’s number on it out of my hand and tears it in two. Because, yep, that’s the kind of guy Tyler is.

Garrett gives me a look that says he’s worried about my intelligence for dating a jerk like Tyler. I flash an apologetic smile and wait for Garrett to walk away, planning to throw my elbow into Tyler’s southern regions.

He knows me too well, though, because the second Garrett walks away, Tyler jumps back with a big grin. “You were going to hit me, weren’t you?”

“Why are you saying it in the past tense? The threat is still real.”

Tyler is still very much the same man who moved to New York five years ago. He’s wearing a dark-gray suit that hugs his toned body. He’s tall with blond hair and green eyes (yes, we look like siblings, and that truly freaks me out). And he’s still got the same slithery smile. He openly scans my body and then raises and lowers his brows. “Well, shoot, Eves. You look even better than the last time I saw you.”

I roll my eyes and turn around to return to my seat next to Jo. “Go away, Tyler.”

He chuckles and tries to catch my arm, but I’m faster. “Wait. Don’t you want this phone number? I’d be willing to paste it back together for a kiss.”

I would tell him he could kiss my butt, but he would likely just treat it like an innuendo and say something that grosses me out. “Nope. Don’t need it. And now you’ve filled your douchebag quota for the day, so you can scurry on back to the vermin hole you climbed out of.” Charlie and I are weaving in and out of tables, and unfortunately, Tyler is keeping pace with me.

“Why don’t you need it? Have you finally decided to marry me after all?”

When I walk up, Jo hands me my phone and, before she realizes Tyler is right behind me, says, “Jake texted you something sappy again, and I asked him to send a picture of his backside.” I know she’s kidding, so I don’t press it. At least . . . I hope she’s kidding.

But I really wish that she hadn’t just mentioned Jake’s name in front of Tyler. It’s not that I think Tyler is some crazy guy from the movies who will kidnap me and stuff me in his trunk until I agree to marry him, but I do know that he’s enough like my parents to go to extreme manipulative measures to get what he wants. He’s always been that way. It’s why he’s such a good attorney.

“Wait, who’s Jake? Don’t tell me my Evie Grace has a boyfriend,” Tyler says, coming to stand far too close to me. He’s like a pimple. I just want to pop him—or punch him, or step on his toes, or slap him—but I know that if I do, he’ll just get more inflamed and annoying. Best to ignore him and wait for the breakout to pass.

“I’m not yours, Tyler, and I never will be. Now leave me alone and find someone else to bug.”

“Come on, Eves. You know we’d be good together.”

“Do you seriously not think it’s completely bonkers to marry each other just because you own your dad’s portion of the business now?” I’m asking because I genuinely want to know. He and I have never seriously discussed this and part of me hopes there’s a sliver of a heart beating inside his chest.

“I think it makes sense. You know this life better than anyone else. You know what it takes to be a good wife to a man like me, and I know that you look ridiculously good in a cocktail dress. So, yeah . . . I’m willing to sign that contract.”

“You mean marriage certificate?”

“Same difference.”

“Go away, Tyler.”

He chuckles like he hasn’t heard a word I’ve said. Like he thinks I’m cute for turning him down. I swear, if he pats my butt like he did last time he came to visit, I will tear his favorite limb right off his body.

“Tell you what. If you’re so worried about it, let me take you out. I’ll wine you and dine you, and if you’re lucky, I might even f—”

“If you finish that sentence, I promise you I will dump this drink all over that fancy suit of yours.”

His eyes widen like I’ve just threatened to shoot him. Then he relaxes back into his sleazy grin and tugs on his suit lapels. “Your parents want this, Eves, and so do I. So, don’t think that by me walking away right now, I’m giving up. I’ll find a way to show you that us being together is the right choice.” He tries to kiss my cheek as he passes by me, but I turn my head away. And whoa, someone should tell that man that a spritz is all it takes. He is a walking bottle of cologne.

“Oh, I hate him,” says Joanna once Tyler is out of earshot.

“You and me both.” I turn around just as Tyler makes it to the far end of the restaurant and stands in line to order. I smile a big blinding smile and call out to him so the whole restaurant turns and looks. “Oh, Tyler! I forgot to say that the ointment you had me pick up for you is on your desk at work! The pharmacist said it should clear your rash right up but that sex is not advised for the first three weeks!”

I have the privilege of watching the scumbag’s mouth fall open, and the woman in front of him in line (whom he had just been checking out) turn her shoulder firmly away from him. Even from this far away, I can see his face turn beet red. And then, just as I had hoped, he steps out of line and leaves.

“That was too satisfying to watch,” Jo says and gives me a high five.

I should feel satisfied too, but I don’t. Because the only takeaway I have from this whole situation is that I have no idea what sort of relationship I have with Jake, and I really need to figure that out. Are we exclusive? Is he dating other people?

A minute ago, I was thrilled about my date with him. Now I’m feeling nervous. I can feel a big fat DTR on the horizon. It’s always awkward. But it needs to happen so I can know whether or not I should pocket phone numbers from cute strangers in the future.