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Still laughing, she smashed the fortune slip with her empty soda cup. “Fuck you, fortune cookie. No more randos in my house. I’m officially swearing off men for the foreseeable future. What’s yours?”

I snapped the cookie in half and fished out the slip of paper. My lips pulled into a pout. “I hate when they give platitudes instead of actual fortunes.”

“Oh yeah, me too. Like, I don’t want advice—I want to know when my soulmate is showing up. What does it say?”

“‘Be a leaf in the wind; let fortune guide you.’” I rolled my eyes. “Veryhelpful.”

“Well, at least the food was good,” Gemma chuckled. “Do you need a ride home?”

I glanced at my phone, face-down on the table. My cheeks warmed. “Cal is coming.”

Gemma made an “oooh” sound. “Is he staying the night?”

I shook my head, sliding out of the booth and standing with a stretch. “No, he’s staying at the center late tonight to catch up on paperwork, and then he has rounds in the hospital early tomorrow morning.”

Gemma clicked her tongue, sighing. “Lame. Still, doctors are so hot.”

I thought back to my “anatomy lesson” with Cal and had to agree. They were.

Gemma waited with me until Cal pulled up, and after giving him finger guns, she sashayed off to her car in the dark parking lot. Cal came around to my side to open my door, but he pulled me into him before I could slide in. He looked tired, honestly. His eyes crinkled at the corners and his hair had gotten disheveled again, but he wrapped me in a hug that soothed my soul and body in equal measures. “You’re limping pretty badly there, Shortstop.”

“Mm,” I hummed into his shirt. Usually, he smelled like whatever shampoo he used, but after a long day, he smelled like male and deodorant with a hint of coconut, and I wanted to lick him. “I’m okay, though. Really.”

He groaned, molding his body to mine so perfectly, it was like we really were made for each other. “You’re making me regretworking right now.”

A selfish part of me desperately wanted him tonotwork, but I knew better. His patients had to come first. “You can make it up to me tomorrow.”

“Deal.” He helped me into my seat, and then when he was buckled and had put the car into drive, he glanced over at me. “How did it go today?”

“Good. Janice is advertising my new three-pronged service, and the clients are responding positively to it. I think the best part is that I’m not matching them, really. They’re matching themselves. I’m just doing the data work for them ahead of time.”

“So, between researching… what was it? Silver painting?”

“Silverpoint paintings,” I supplied with amusement.

“Right. So, between silverpoint painting research and matchmaking, which one do you like better now?” he asked with a fast glance at me before looking at the road.

“Hm.” I thought for a second, running through my memories of doing research for Vaughn versus how I had felt this one week after getting a better grasp of my job. On the one hand, research was straightforward and uncomplicated. But, to be honest, it was a little boring. I had regrets that I hadn’t pursued archaeology science like I had wanted because radiocarbon dating still held a part of my heart and interest. But on the other hand, the science of matching people together had a certain anthropological aspect to it that appealed to me the more I explored it.

After a few seconds, I said, “I think I enjoy matchmaking more.”

Cal smiled, glancing at me again. “I love that you take time to think about things before answering. It’s very you.”

I pushed at my glasses sheepishly. “It probably looks weird, huh?”

Cal shook his head. “Not at all. I like that you take the time to be honest with your answers. We live in an age of instant gratification, and more and more, I think people feel the need to answer things immediately. We text and message rapid-fire, and our patience gets shorter all the time. But you’re still methodical and careful with your words. It’s admirable.”

I tucked my bottom lip between my teeth, nearly glowing. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he mocked with a smile.

“How about you?” I asked him to take the focus off me. “How did things go today?”

“Good,” he sighed, which made it sound like it had been anything but. “Well,” he amended with a half-shrug, “it was good until just an hour ago. One of my Multiple Sclerosis patients is in the hospital, and I need to go check on him. I just saw him the other day, so I feel, I don’t know… guilty?”

“Like you missed something?” I clarified.

“Maybe.” Cal’s profile flashed brightly from a passing car, illuminating the stress in his features. “I know I didn’t miss anything, but I still irrationally feel like I should have seen the virus coming.”