Page 47 of C is for Comfort

Emily shows me a picture of a smart redhead on her phone. He looks roughly the same age as me, give or take anything up to five years, and is good looking.

“He’s cute,” Emily says. “Don’t you think?”

“He’s okay.”

“You’d look gorgeous together.”

“I’m not going on a date with him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to?”

She raises her eyebrows as she sips her coffee, clearlynotaccepting my answer.

“Because the last blind date you set me up on was a disaster of epic proportions.”

“Okay, that one was a slight miscalculation on my part, but you’ll love Duncan, I promise.”

“A slight miscalculation? Em, the guy was a complete and utter jerk.”

“He was hot, though.”

It’s one of those moments where I want to bang my head on the table in front of me repeatedly.

“For the love of god, Em, stop trying to set me up.”

“You need a man in your life.”

“I’ve got one.” I didn’t mean to let it slip out.

Her eyes pop wide, and she gasps. “Who? When and where did you meet him? How serious are you?”

I ignore the Spanish Inquisition in favour of drinking some coffee. It’s just about cool enough to be bearable now. How Emily drinks her coffee so hot, I don’t know. Maybe it’s a parent thing—you’ve got to drink your coffee before you get distracted by your little darlings, so you get used to coifing it down, even if it’s hot enough to burn your throat.

“Spence,” she says in a voice that probably incites fear in Robbie and Tabitha.

Truth be told, I shiver a little. “It’s not serious.”

She leans forward, eyes trained on me like she’s the mean cop and is determined to squeeze every little bit of information out of me.

“I’m going to need more than that,” she says dryly.

“I met him at the party I went to the other week. We’ve hooked up a few times since then and are planning on seeing each other again. Happy?”

Her eyes narrow. I can practically hear the cogs whirring in her brain.

“The one-and-done guy?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“But you said you didn’t exchange numbers.” She gasps. “Youliedto me. Or you’re lying to me now. Either way, don’t.”

I laugh. “I’m not lying, Em. We ran into each other again.”

“Serendipity,” she says with a sigh. “You’re meant to be together. That’s so romantic, Spence. Tell me everything about him.”

“I don’t know that much about him,” I confess.