11 Julian
Julian
Leti is flustered when she opens the front door.
Her usually tamed hair is sticking up in places, and her cheeks are glistening and slightly pink.
My thoughts are a wild, terrible jumble that belong in the deepest part of the gutter, because there’s no reason Leti looking red-faced and panting should be doing strange things to my nervous system.
For a moment, she stares blankly at me without a word.
We’d agreed to meet at her place at two this weekend, but I thought I’d make a better impression by arriving ten minutes early.
She’s not a fan of tardiness, a fact I know twice over.
Now I’m rethinking that plan entirely. Have I inconvenienced her by showing up early?
I open my mouth to greet her when a waft of something foul-smelling hits my nostrils.
What the hell? As hard as I try to resist covering my nose by holding my breath, my face is doing something else.
“Bad time?” I somehow manage to ask without coughing.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Her face falls as she turns to something behind her. “It’s a little chaotic around here, hence the toddler puke making your eyes water.”
I blink a few times because inexplicably, my eyes are tearing up. Then, what she’s said finally hits me.
“You have a…” The blood drains from my face, mouth falling open in shock. Didn’t I go on a full rant about people having kids too soon on our second first date? It’s no wonder she hates me.
The laugh she lets out echoes off the walls. “Not my kid. My roommate’s.”
“Oh. Oh.” My shoulders deflate, as does the tension packed there. “Thank god. I realized I might have offended you when I said everyone was rushing into having kids too soon.”
“I was offended by proxy. You know, as an aunt of three.” As she lets me inside, she apologizes again. “I live with my best friend and her daughter. She got sick out of nowhere, so Bella’s taking her to urgent care.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sure that’s a lot for your friend to deal with. If you need to reschedule—”
“Her ex, Luis, is meeting her there, so she won’t be alone. Otherwise, I would’ve canceled.” She shakes her head, as if only now remembering the noxious fumes we’re both inhaling. “Sorry. Um…if the smell is too bad, maybe we can do this at your place instead?”
“Your brother has a couple people over,” I tell her. “Might get a little distracting down there.”
Plus, I know she won’t want to explain to Andrew how we know each other, let alone that I’m helping her shake up her dating accounts.
I’m not sure why she’s so against telling him that we know each other, but I’m also not about to rock the boat when she just started liking me.
I’ll get to the bottom of Leti and Andrew’s relationship later.
“We’ll do this in my room, then.” She points in the direction and lets me know she’ll be right there. Then she reaches for a bottle of Febreze on the TV stand.
In her bedroom, I glance around the walls covered in posters, assorted art prints, and Polaroids.
I only spot Andrew in a handful of group photos, but Bella and Elena are in every single one.
It’s a stark difference from Andrew’s space, which is shamefully lacking in family photos or memorabilia of any kind.
No wonder I never made the connection between them sooner.
Surprisingly, Leti is smiling in every picture.
Or maybe it’s not so surprising, and she saves her scowls for me.
I’ve never seen her smile like that in person—I didn’t even think she could.
She’s so delightfully snarly all the damn time, though it would probably annoy her to know how adorable I find it.
But this—this is a real smile. Not the condescending smirks or humorless laughs I’m used to. And its fucking radiant on her. It has me catching myself thinking dangerous thoughts, like, I want to be the one who makes her smile like that.
I shake my head. That’s not what I’m here for, and it’s certainly not what she wants from me.
I’m here to help her find someone else. But really, I’m here for the same reason I swiped right on her profile a few weeks ago.
Not because I’m delusional enough to believe there could be something real between us, but because there’s something about Leti I can’t seem to shake.
“Sorry about that.” She finally enters behind me, looking sheepish for probably the first time I’ve known her. “Mari’s never been sick like that before. I completely forgot you were coming over—otherwise I would’ve rescheduled, or at least warned you ahead of time.”
“No worries,” I tell her, turning back to her walls and then her desk setup.
Two monitors take up the bulk of space, with an open laptop and a Nintendo Switch placed between them.
Two pairs of Bluetooth headphones hang from the purple monitor on the left.
“Can’t smell the puke in here, so that’s a plus. ”
She chuckles softly, then goes rigid as I pick up the gaming console. “Please put that back.”
“I knew you were a gamer, but I didn’t think you were a gamer,” I tell her, carefully setting it back down where I found it. “This is…intense.”
“We all have a hobby that keeps us sane, right?” She shrugs, but it turns into a wince as I plop myself down in her desk chair.
It’s plush and oversize, possibly the most comfortable seat my ass has ever had the pleasure of sitting on.
Which is a shame, since she’d rather I not be sitting on it if her uncomfortable expression is anything to go by.
“I don’t think I like this.”
“Don’t like what?” I spin in the chair until my back is to her, taking in the colorful knickknacks artfully cluttering her desk. The urge to touch everything is strong, but something tells me I’m one wrong move away from being kicked out of her apartment.
“You, in my space, touching everything.”
“Leti.” I wheel around to face her, raising my empty hands in the air. “You invited me here, remember?”
“And I’m about to regret it.” Another sigh. “Maybe I don’t need to date. I can be happy if I’m alone for the rest of my life, right?”
“Is that what you want?” I ask her. “Because it didn’t seem like you did last weekend.”
“Dating is too hard.” She plops down on the mattress with a groan. “Maybe last weekend was a sign that I shouldn’t be dating anyone, no matter what it is I want.”
“You know, every healthy relationship requires opening yourself up to another person and a willingness to change your lifestyle at least a little bit.”
“What do you mean?” She looks up at me with a raised brow.
“You’re so guarded.” Her eyes flash, but I’m not done yet. “We haven’t started, and you’re already considering backing out. If you’re this uncomfortable with me looking around your room or even sitting in your chair, will you let a romantic partner? Or will you try and push them away too?”
Her eyes narrow. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”
“Only because I don’t scare easy.” I stare her down, unwilling to let her believe she can frighten me away. “Tell me something. Are you this way with everyone, or am I a special case?” A frown mars her mouth, but she doesn’t say anything. “Is this because of Andrew?”
“Maybe.” Finally, she sighs. “You’re…not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“An asshole clone of my brother, I guess.” She lets out a laugh when my eyes widen. “Despite what I’ve seen of you so far, I think I’m still having trouble believing that you really aren’t anything like him.”
“You think your brother’s an asshole.” This is at least a partial answer concerning their rift, but it only raises more questions. “How come?”
“Oh no.” She shakes her head. “I know whose side you’re on in this cold war. You’re not getting anything about my brother out of me.”
“Fair enough, but we need to solve the issue at hand here,” I tell her. “You’ve already tried pushing me away a few times, haven’t you? Tell me—how’s that worked out for you so far?”
Her mouth drops open, but not a word comes out. Indignant, she pushes herself up to her elbows, staring at me in disbelief. “I—”
“You look adorable like that, by the way.” I smirk at her. “Speechless.”
Her eyes roll heavenward. “Don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical for you to be criticizing me in the form of relationship advice when you’ve never been in one yourself?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to criticize you,” I tell her. “As for the hypocrisy, I have been in a relationship. It just ended as quickly as it began. And I already told you. I’m better at—”
“Better at giving dating advice than actually dating. I remember,” she says. “What’s stopping you from applying that advice to yourself?”
“The last time I dated someone, apart from you, it didn’t work out well for either of us.
” At least Ryan came out of it okay. He’s currently engaged to his boyfriend of one year, something I found out after a bit of social media sleuthing because we haven’t talked since the mess that was my aunt’s birthday party two years ago.
I might’ve made a mess of my own life when we started dating, but at least it didn’t affect him as much as it did me.
Leti’s brows rise the slightest bit, as if she’s waiting for me to go on, and when I don’t, she sighs. “Cryptic, much?”
“I could say the same about you and your brother. Tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine.
” When she doesn’t budge, I let out a sigh even though part of me is relieved.
For the first time since our second first date went up in flames, I let myself wonder what would’ve happened if we’d hit it off.
Would I have made a mess of it eventually, like I made a mess of my relationship with Ryan?
Maybe it’s better that Leti and I are friends. I don’t know what’s going on between her and Andrew, but she’s right. He’s my best friend, which automatically puts me on his side. Even if I have no idea what his side is, because he’s told me as much about Leti as she has about him.
“Should we get started or what?”
“Right.” She nods and pulls out her phone. “One sec, let me text Bella real quick.”
While she’s occupied with her phone, I return my attention to her desk knickknacks. I figure it’s the quickest way to get her off that thing and get started, a theory that proves right when I pick up a tiny Charmander figurine and she snaps at me before announcing she’s ready.
“Great.” I set the little fire lizard down and take a seat beside her on the bed. Her nose scrunches as I hold out my hand for her phone, and I let out a sigh. “What now, woman?”
“I liked you better in the chair.”
“You didn’t even want me in your chair, if memory serves.” I stare her down again. “Quit complaining and hand it over.”
She grumbles before opening the app and finally depositing the phone into my hand. Only, she doesn’t remove her hand. Her brows crease as she flips my hand over and examines my knuckles. “Is that a tattoo?”
Should it concern me that her touch, even with her phone between our palms, is making my pulse jump?
A finger traces the black lines on my middle finger, her touch causing goose bumps to erupt down my back.
The circle is a recent addition I got once my principal told me the school was lax on teachers with visible ink.
Not that a small tattoo on my finger is all that noticeable to a classroom of screen-addicted teenagers.
The ones on my chest and abdomen are another story.
“Are you done yet?” I ask, trying to keep my expression bored. “Or would you like a tour?”
“A tour? What—” The question dies on her tongue when I raise a brow, and I take a moment to appreciate the way her cheeks turn tomato red as she imagines where else on my body there might be ink.
“No need for all that, sunshine boy,” she says, finally removing her hand from mine. “Go ahead.”
“Sunshine boy?” I bite my lip to hide the smile itching the corners of my mouth.
“Yeah, you can’t wear yellow around me and expect me not to notice.” She scrunches her nose as her eyes rake over my T-shirt with obvious disdain. “It’s pretty on par with your personality, though.”
I can’t help the grin that pulls up my mouth. “All right, let’s see what we’re working with.”
The first profile is of a blond twenty-eight-year-old posing with a fish, an immediate left swipe.
The next two are also easy to reject, seeing as they’ve barely filled out the questions with more than one- or two-word responses.
Finally, I strike gold on the seventh profile with a hiker named Nathaniel who has some clever responses to the prompts that hint at an actual personality, which is more than the last few accounts have going for them. I swipe right.
“Wait—” She grips my arm as her phone lights up, but I’m not surprised when the screen announces she’s made a match. “Julian! I didn’t get a chance to finish reading his profile.”
The delicious, addictive warmth of her hand on my forearm is replaced with a sting as she swats at my arm. It shocks me more than it hurts, but I still let out an involuntary “Ow!”
“That didn’t even hurt you, drama queen.
” She rolls her eyes before making a move to snatch the phone out of my hand.
Luckily I’m faster than her as I bounce to my knees on the mattress and hold my arm out of reach.
She rises after me, gripping my shirt in a fist with one hand as her other reaches for the phone.
“Slow down, you could’ve matched me with a serial killer for all I know! ”
“Do you trust me?” I rest a hand on her shoulder even as her grip on my collar never lets up. Those serious dark eyes cut into me like she can’t believe what she’s hearing.
“Are you kidding?”
“Fair point. We still don’t know each other that well yet,” I concede, even as my heart races beneath her fist. As it is, I’m having trouble prying my eyes away from her lips and up to her eyes.
I’m surprised to realize she is too. Our faces are only a few inches apart, and we’re staring at each other’s mouths.
It would be all too easy to close the space between our breaths and kiss her.
My throat works on a swallow, and her molten eyes follow the movement.
After a beat of trying and failing to get my breathing under control, I ask, “Can you try?”
Finally, her eyes flick up to meet mine.
They’re still hazy, but I can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she stares up at me.
Indecision wars in her expression as her mouth purses and her brows crease as she considers my question.
It’s killing me, not knowing what she’s thinking.
She could be realizing it was a mistake to let me this far into her life.
Right as I’m sure she’s about to take it all back and ask me to leave, she takes a deep breath and gives a reluctant nod.
“Fine.” Leti clears her throat. “My love life is officially in your hands.”