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“Okay, then with someone who thinks love should have no importance in society and who thinks everyone who loves romance is indoctrinated into the capitalism machine.”

“You’re putting words into my mouth,” he says. I can see that tension sneaking back into his jaw.

I shake my head. “I am not putting words into your mouth. I’m making an analysis of your opinions based on your actions and comments on the matter.

You agreed to me setting you up on dates so that you’d see how amazing love is.

If you were already a… love aficionado, I wouldn’t have to do that, would I? ”

A small smile appears on his lips. “Love aficionado?”

“Okay, okay, tell me one thing. How’s Reggie’s new romance section selling?” Maybe I should have insisted Miles read romances on top of letting me set him up to get him to change his tune. Lord knows the setups haven’t worked yet.

“They’re not selling more than other categories, but I admit they are doing better than I thought they would.”

“Reggie hasn’t advertised the romance section at all,” I say.

“But even still, people are buying. They can’t all be buying the books because they’ve been brainwashed by marketing—they read romance because of the joy and hope in the genre.

People want that in their lives. Just because you’re a frigid fish doesn’t mean others feel the same way.

” I exhale, regretting my words immediately.

Name calling isn’t helping anyone here. “I’m sorry. Forget I called you a fish.”

Miles blinks at me. “Do you really think I’m frigid?” he asks. He actually looks hurt, and that was not my intention at all.

I close my eyes for a moment. I have no idea why this person sitting next to me affects me like this.

Sometimes he’s the easiest person in the world to talk to, but he also irritates me more than most people do.

He makes me say things I don’t normally say.

I’m Sunny Sana, the eternal optimist. I don’t call people names.

But Miles Desai has thrown me so completely off my groove, and I don’t know what to do with that.

I turn to look at him. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have said that. ”

“But do you think it?” he asks.

I bite my lip. To be honest, Miles has never seemed like a warm, affectionate, or even passionate person, but I don’t think that necessarily means he’s cold, either. I decide to be honest.

“I don’t know. Sometimes, maybe.”

After a few moments, he speaks again. “Not everyone’s interpretation of love is hearts and Hallmark Christmas movies. That doesn’t mean we’re not capable of it.”

“Have you ever been in love?” I ask. I asked him that question before, and he didn’t answer me then. But now we’re friends.

He exhales, then looks away from me. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if you’ve been in love?”

He stares in front of him at the macramé owl hanging on the wall. “I had a girlfriend for a year in high school,” he says. “I thought I was in love. But now I wonder if it was just… convenient .”

“Ugh. Poor girl.”

Miles huffs a laugh, looking at me. “Considering we broke up when I found out she hooked up with my best friend, I don’t have a ton of sympathy for her.”

“Oh my goodness! That sucks . I take it back. Poor you . That, plus your parents’ separation… It’s no wonder you’re so jaded.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not jaded . My relationship or family history has nothing to do with why I don’t see the point of pouring energy and money into a frivolous idea like a heart-shaped park installation. It’s a waste of our resources.”

I take the now-empty plate off my lap and cross my legs. “ Disagree ,” I say.

“I guess we’re at an impasse, then,” Miles says. “It doesn’t need to be in the proposal anyway. The next section is diversity.”

We finish the rest of the proposal together, but the vibe between us is different now. I’d thought we were getting closer, or at least on similar wavelengths since we watched the sunset, but now I wonder if I imagined that. Our entire worldviews are different at, like, the molecular level.

“Should we send this to Cara before emailing it to the city councillor?” Miles asks after we’ve gone over the entire document twice.

“Yeah, let me text her.” I grab my phone from the coffee table and fire off a text to Cara, but she doesn’t answer. Because of course she doesn’t.

“She’s with Hannah, isn’t she?” Miles asks.

“Probably. But don’t you dare say that this proves your point.”

“Why would I say that?”

I sigh, dropping my phone to the couch. “Because you’re going to say that Cara has the lovey-dovey hearts and couple goals kind of love, and it’s making her flake out on her commitments.”

“I wouldn’t have said that.” He looks like he wants to say more but changes his mind.

“What?” I ask.

“I…” He hesitates. “I just wonder if Cara thinks she has the couple goals kind of love.”

Neither of us says anything for a few moments. I have no idea what the answer to that question is. Cara has never told me she’s unhappy. But maybe Miles has seen something I haven’t.

“Question for you,” Miles finally says. “Because we clearly need to understand each other better if we’re going to work together. Have you ever been in love?”

I exhale, looking down at my lap. The answer is a little embarrassing.

“Does it matter if I’ve been in love? I know what I’m drawn to, and I’m not the only one into hearts and romance.

Corporate greed can’t be the only reason Valentine’s Day is such a huge holiday.

The heart installation will attract people like me to the festival.

It doesn’t really matter if me and people like me are a bunch of delusional idealists, as long as we spend money here. ”

“I don’t think you’re delusional, Sana,” Miles says softly. I look at him. His intense gaze is focused only on me, and it makes my breath catch in my throat. He’s only a foot away from me on the sofa, and his hand is close enough that I could touch it if I wanted to.

And the thing is, I do want to.

I take a slow breath. The air around us seems charged. I may not have been in love before, but I know what chemistry feels like. I know this fluttering of my stomach, this goose bumpy feeling.

But it’s probably only on my side. Miles called my ideas “frivolous.” He thinks my head’s not in the real world. He’s not feeling anything for me except annoyance. And it’s so monumentally inconvenient that I’ve got these fluttery feelings for someone so different from me.

I turn away quickly. “So… you ready for me to find you another date? I think I know you well enough not to mess it up this time.”

He doesn’t answer right away, and I resist the urge to turn back to him because I’m afraid he’s going to see my stupid attraction all over my face.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” he finally says. “Maybe the third time will be the charm.”

He’s definitely not into me like I’m into him. Which is good. Miles Desai and I are oil and water. We would never work out. We would be more opposite than my mother and father… and look how their relationship turned out.

Maybe finding Miles’s true match is the best way for me to get over these feelings I have for him—because they are making planning this festival very hard for me.