Page 3 of The Stuffing Situation

His smile wobbled. Her eyes went wide. Josie moutheddamn.It should’ve ended there. But Maya hit “Share” instead of “Save.”

To Facebook.

The hearts rolled in before she could close the app.

Her mom:He’s adorable!! Can’t wait to meet him!!

Aunt Lorraine:Finally, someone who looks like he worships her!

Coworker Amanda:Damn girl, where’d you find HIM?? Asking for a friend.

Maya stared at her screen, heart pounding somewhere behind her eyes.

Oh no. No, no, no, no.

* * *

Maya woke with a pounding headache, a mouth as dry as sandpaper, and the faint clink of someone moving around in her mom’s kitchen.

She shuffled out of bed, bracing for the sight of her mom elbow-deep in stuffing, her favorite side dish, prep.

Instead, there was a tall man at the stove.

“What the-”

He turned, and she screamed.

Felix. The AI man she’dmadelast night. Standing there, in the flesh, holding her favorite mug, the one with the tiny crack in the handle. Wearing a rumpled hoodie and a stupidly casual smile, as though slipping into her life required no more effort than putting on socks.

“Morning!” he said. “I made coffee. Used the beans labeled ‘Do Not Touch.’ That… was wrong, huh?”

Maya’s jaw moved. No words came out.

This is fine, this is totally fine.

I just accidentallymanifested a boyfriendlike I was ordering takeout.

DoorDash, but for the forever alone.

She opened her mouth to scream again

And fainted.

System Error: Boyfriend Detected.

2

Siri, What the Hell Is This?

She came to on the couch, tucked in a blanket she didn’t recognize. Probably a new one her mom had picked up on sale. It was weirdly soft, it gave that if nostalgia was a feeling vibe. A damp washcloth rested on her forehead.

The scent of toast drifted through the room, real toast,realtoast, not the fake low-carb bread people tried to force on her because she was “curvy in a cute way.” Her brain flashed an error message.

Kneeling beside her was the hottest man she’d ever seen.

Tall. Dark-haired. A tattoo peeked from under a rolled sleeve, almost flirting with modesty, hot-shy, the kind that whispered,‘I own tools and know how to use them.’ He was a collaboration between a Pinterest husband, a lumberjack, and the emotionally available half of a fantasy novel adaptation.

Which was so deeply unfair, because she haddesignedhim that way.