Page 6 of The Hardest Hit

“I…” His eyes flicked upward to the door at the far end of the upstairs hallway.

“Great,” said Olivia, smiling. She carried her wine up the stairs.

“No,” he said, trailing after her. “Can’t we just assume I’m a nerd and move on with life?”

“How can I judge you if I don’t check out your movie collection?” she asked. She walked along the open hallway that looked out over the rest of the loft and down to the closed door at the end of the hallway. “This one?” she asked, hand on the knob.

“This is really embarrassing,” he said. “Please don’t.”

“Why?” she asked, opening the door.

“Because there’s a giant poster of you on the wall,” he blurted out, hurrying after her, as she swung open the door.

She stared up at the large, framed poster of Dark Phoenix over the couch and burst out laughing. “Yay!” she exclaimed, bouncing into the room, coming perilously close to splashing wine all over his carpet. “I win! I’m the winner!”

“What do you win?” he demanded, leaning against the doorframe.

She wasn’t sure, now that he’d asked. When she’d seen the poster, she’d just had the gut reaction that he was already hers and he couldn’t take it back.

“I was right,” she said. “I like being right.” She turned to his movie collection to cover up her sudden embarrassment. “Got it, got it, got it, hated it, got it, got it. Want it,” she paused to read the back of theAdèle Blanc-SecBlue Ray.

“So you study vampire squid. What kind of degree do you have to have to do that?”

She glanced up, trying to decide if he was making fun of her or if he was really curious.

“I have two PhDs. One in Chemical Engineering, one in Bio-Chemistry.”

“How am I the nerd here?” he demanded.

“You have a poster of me on your wall.”

“Who do you have on your wall?”

“No one at the moment,” said Olivia, feeling deflated. “I left most of my stuff at home when I moved. I don’t even have a cat.”

“Do you want a cat?” He looked confused.

“Well, no, but I believe if one is going to be a spinster that it is appropriate at some point to take possession of cats. Or they take possession of you. I’m unclear. But the point is: I have no cats.”

He laughed. “Spinster? What are you, like, twenty-four?”

“I’m twenty-seven. How old are you?”

“Thirty-one.”

“Well, then you’re probably getting it too. Doesn’t your family ever pressure you to settle down and get married and not break up with your asshole boyfriend even though he cheated on you and are you sure you couldn’t make it work?”

“Literally, no, to all of that.”

“Oh,” said Olivia, taking another gulp of her wine. She hadn’t meant to say that. Talking about an ex was the number one thing not to do with a guy. She had heard it from multiple sources. “That’s just so sexist. Why don’t men get the same pressure to pair up?”

“I have no idea, but in my case, I think it’s because they don’t think I should.”

“That sounds nice.”

“When did you break up with the cheater?”

“One year three months ago.”