Page 3 of Should Our Stars Collide

“Iwish. That would be so cool.” If only he could program his life using a combination of letters, numbers, and symbols. Or program the perfect girlfriend (or at least someone who doesn’t ghost him). Ideally, she’d be a redhead, take no shit, and have a dark sense of humor. Brownie points if she’s a bit kinky too.

That’s not too much to ask, is it? Totally realistic.

“Stop it,” Dawson says with a scowl.

“What?”

“You have that stupid look on your face again.”

“What look?”

“The one you always get when your mind ends up in the gutter.”

Kieran offers him a dirty smirk, just to annoy him.

Dawson’s scowl deepens. “Seriously? How did you go there? We were talking about your work!”

“What can I say? All roads lead to the same destination.”

“The destination being the gutter?”

“Exactly.”

“You’re a pig.”

Grinning devilishly, Kieran grabs Dawson by the neck and gives him a slobbery smooch on the cheek. Dawson screams dramatically, arms and legs flailing. He pushes Kieran away, hastily rubbing his cheek with the sleeve of his jumper while glaring daggers at him.

“I hate you.”

“Don’t judge me, I’m lonely.” He wipes an imaginary tear from his eye. “Nobody wants me.” The tear might be fake, but the sharp, stabbing sensation in his chest is very real. He does what he always does—ignore it. It’s worked for him for the past 26 years, after all.

Dawson doesn’t laugh. His expression is serious, a line of concern between his brows. “That’s not true, Kieran.”

Kieran rolls his eyes. “I was kidding. Jesus. Lighten up a little.” He bumps Dawson’s shoulder good-naturedly.

Dawson isn’t convinced. “It’s only been a little over a month since you and Jess broke up. Even if you’re not ready to start datingyet?—”

“I’m not nursing a broken heart. We weren’t serious.” Not for a lack of trying on Jess’ part. She was sneaky enough that bit by bit, she pretty much moved herself into Kieran’s apartment. And Kieran, figuring a bossy girlfriend was better than no girlfriend, turned a blind eye.

Until she decided to shit on Kieran’s best friend, leaving him no choice but to call it quits. A part of him is reluctant to admit that breaking up felt kinda…relieving.

Dawson looks skeptical. “Then why haven’t you tried dating again?”

“I have. Not my fault my date took off the second she saw me.” The most annoying part about the whole thing is how much it still stings. What is he being so sensitive for? Jesus.

“Oh,” Dawson says, his face falling. “I’m sorry.”

Kieran gives a non-committal shrug and takes a sip of his coke. He can feel Dawson’s gaze boring holes in his face.

“Did someone from work set you up?”

“It wasn’t a blind date. We matched on a dating app.”

“That’s weird. If you weren’t her type, why did she swipe right on you?”

“You know how it is, most people look better on camera than in real life.”

“No offence, but not in your case.” Offence very much taken, even though it’s true. Kieran’s one of those people whose face ends up looking like an overcooked pancake if you look at it through the camera lens. “Show me the photo you used. I’ll give you feedback. Maybe we’ll pick a better one. Or I’ll take a new one for you. I know the angles better—you know, artist and all.”