Page 41 of Swiped

Nat hunched over her cocktail. A thousand rationalizations flew into her mind like startled birds.

Maybe Thom just wanted to impress her so badly that he was waiting to tell her the full truth.

He said he already knew about the BuzzFill contest, so maybe he just wanted her to focus on winning before they had any complicated discussions, which was considerate, one could argue!

But even her desperate mind couldn’t quite swallow these excuses whole.

Something jagged and dark still sank in her chest, especially since she was still sitting next to Rami.

She recalled the awkward way Thom had asked if Rami would be at the interview — the interview that was the very next day.

“Speechless?” Rami swirled his glass with his long fingers. “Look, I’m sorry to tell you like this.” He shifted with an awkward little hmmph and put a hand on Nat’s shoulder. “I really can’t believe I am cleaning up that asshole’s mess a second time.”

The warmth of Rami’s hand only made Nat’s heart ache harder.

Now he felt sorry for her. Her feelings for him might be tangled up in chaos, but the one thing she knew that she didn’t want from Rami was pity, especially not for her love life.

She stiffened under his hand and cast him a hard look. “So that’s what I am now? Thom’s mess?”

Rami drew back like she was a hot stove. “Are you serious? No.” He ran his hand over his face, and Nat could see the tiredness around his eyes. “I swear to God, I always say the wrong thing around you. Or maybe you just make me realize that I say the wrong thing around everyone.”

Nat managed a bitter laugh. “I know the feeling.” She bit her lip to quell the tears pooling in her eyes.

She could still feel Thom’s naked body on her skin.

But how much of him was actually still hidden from her?

She could imagine how stupid she would look to Rami if she told him that Thom was in her bed at that very moment.

Even if Rami was telling the truth, what could she do about it now?

And did it change anything? She still had to take someone to the interview tomorrow.

She couldn’t do better than Thom — for the contest, and maybe in real life, too.

She took a heavy swallow of her martini and shrugged.

“Well, whatever is in Thom’s past is the past.”

Rami laughed, then he scoffed, then she watched a shield form over his eyes like ice. “So, let me get this straight. You’re OK being involved with a guy who I have personally witnessed treating women like shit, multiple times, and who has clearly also lied to you?”

“He’s my ninety-nine percent match,” Nat insisted. “There’s no way he was that high of a match with your sister.”

“That is dark as fuck.” Rami’s thick brows furrowed, and he shook his head. “Seriously, that is some chilling sci-fi shit that you just said.”

“Why? Because I trust my own data?”

“Because you can’t just admit it. Your algorithm can’t capture the fact that he’s a dirtbag! Because no algorithm can! Dirtbags just tell the algorithm what it wants to hear, and also what you want to hear too, apparently.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.

” Nat scowled into his face. By this point, she’d argued with Rami many times, but this time felt different, and it wasn’t because they were arguing about Thom.

This time, his witty comebacks and uncanny ability to find the holes in her thinking didn’t light a fire inside her that made her want to scream and order another round. This time it just made her want to cry.

But Rami continued. “And yet instead of owning up to this patently obvious fact, you’d rather ignore me and wait until some dickhead guy treats you just as poorly as he treated my sister.” Rami rolled his eyes as another point occurred to him. “And yes, I know how hot Thom’s accent is, OK?”

Nat scoffed. “You don’t get it. People lie all the time!” Hurt panged in her heart as she spoke. “It’ll turn out that they never really liked you, no matter how many times they said that they did. Or, best case scenario, they’ll just change the way they feel about you on a whim! Poof!”

Rami’s shoulders dropped, and his full lips twitched with sadness. He fixed her with a serious look.

Nat continued. “You can never trust that anyone really truly likes you, ever — never ever ever — no matter what they say or do.”

Rami’s coffee-colored eyes softened ever so slightly. He drew a long breath. “Do you really think that?”

Nat raised her palms at the obvious affirmative answer to that question. “I know that! I’ve lived that! Over and over again,” she cried. “That’s why my algorithm matters. It’s compatibility data. Data . It’s the closest thing I have to a guarantee that someone isn’t going to just up and leave me!”

“Anyone would be an idiot to leave you, Nat.” Rami shook his head and ran a hand through his curls, unwilling or unable to look at her.

“But I’m saying that Thom will leave you.

” He sat up straighter, and then his eyes flashed into hers.

“Or rather, that you should leave him, because you deserve better.”

His words made the breath leave her body.

Those last few syllables were like magic melting into her wounds despite the anger and adrenaline still coursing through her.

She closed her eyes and drew in a shaky sigh.

She wanted to take his hand and tell him that she was utterly exhausted, that she was glad he told her about Thom, that all of the pressure from the contest was making her act crazy to everyone in her life . . .

But Rami kept talking. “And the world deserves better than some shitty algorithm that treats us all like commercial products. But what do I know? Maybe you just enjoy dating your number one customer.”

Nat’s mouth fell open in shock. She hated Rami. His sparkly eyes, his shiny hair, and his pouty lips — she wanted to crush them all. “Got it. My app is trash; that’s the point you’ve been making this whole competition — except no one seems to think that but you.”

Rami nodded sadly. “Yeah, I know.”

Nat put on her best mean girl voice, powered by the pain throbbing in her chest like an engine. “See, the thing is, we live in the twenty-first century so maybe you can just get over yourself and deal with it?”

“Can you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Good talk. I have a man waiting for me at home. Why’d you text me, Rami?”

He looked closely at his cocktail.

She watched his face for any sign of movement, but he was stoic. Thick brows knitted in thought, Roman nose pointed to his hands, long lashes down, and his espresso eyes closed to her. “Hello? You wanted to meet—”

“No,” he interrupted, “I’m glad you’ve got someone for tomorrow.” He sat up straight and fixed her with a flat glare. He brushed the hair off his forehead and jutted his chin. “I just wanted to give you the heads-up that I’m bringing someone, too. Her name is Allison.” He paused. “She’s great.”

Something heavy dropped into Nat’s stomach.

She wished it were anger, but it very much wasn’t.

All she wanted was to go home, but even that was ruined — half-emptied into Sara’s moving boxes and with Thom’s checkered past waiting for her in bed.

Heat stung in her eyes, so she narrowed them at Rami. “Awesome. We both won.”

He grimaced with the last swig of his bourbon. “Looks like it.”

“What a moment of optimism for the world.”

“You’re welcome, humanity.”

Nat downed the rest of her drink with trembling hands. “See you and Amanda tomorrow, then.”

Rami scoffed. “Allison. And don’t worry, I won’t introduce her to Thom.”

Nat gaped at him. “Asshole,” she said, turned on her heel, and left.

Rami slumped over his glass. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I know.”