“I’m not sending you a picture.” I stood from the chair, pacing around the room. There was no way I was sending him a picture. “If you want to see me, you’ll just have to come visit.”
“Is that a promise?” he asked.
“I, um…” The sun had set, and I could see my reflection in the window at the front of my house. I was still in my work clothes—a navy cropped pant with a high waist, cream blouse, and suit jacket. I looked nice, but I was positive a guy like Connor would never be attracted to a girl like me. Even without seeing him, I knew he was most certainly out of my league. Not that he’d ever made me feel that way. In fact, he was one of the few people who’d ever made me feel “seen,” which was especially ironic, considering the fact that he’d never set eyes on me.
“Sure,” I finally said, figuring it would never happen. “If you come to LA, I’ll meet you.”
“Deal.”
We were both quiet a moment before I said, “What do you think it would be like—meeting in person?”
“Strange. Exciting. I don’t know. What do you think it would be like?”
I bit my lip, considering it. I’d imagined it so many times I’d lost count. But it was a fantasy, and it should stay that way. Part of the reason talking to him was so much fun was because we were both free to imagine, free to pretend. Meeting in person could very well ruin everything.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve met some of my bookstagram friends in person, but that’s different.”
“Why?”
“Well, for one, they aren’t guys.”
“So…”
“And I’ve usually seen their profile picture, so I have an idea of what they look like.”
“You only need to know one word about me: sexy.”
I laughed, knowing he was only half joking. “And also…humble.”
“Obviously.”
We both laughed.
“Well, I was voted most handsome in my unit,” he said.
“You were not.” Laughter bubbled out of me, and Luna shot me a look of pure annoyance. I stuck my tongue out at her. I liked this more playful side of Connor, especially after the heavier topics we’d discussed.
“You’re right. I was voted best with my hands.”
“Oh my god.” I shook my head, going over to the kitchen so I could make dinner. “You are so ridiculous.”
Why was he so easy to talk to? I’d never had this kind of easygoing banter with any of the other guys I’d dated. Not that Connor and I were dating. But I’d never felt so comfortable in my own skin.
“You love it.”
He was right, I did. But I wasn’t going to admit that. It would be too close to admitting how I felt about him. That I liked him as more than just a friend.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked.
“How do you always know what I’m doing?” I teased.
“Well, it is about that time, and we don’t want Olga coming for a visit,” he joked, referring to my imaginary evil twin.
“No. Definitely don’t want Olga to make an appearance.”
“So, what’s on the menu tonight?”
We often talked around this time, and it had become something of a ritual. I’d put the phone on speaker and talk to him as I cooked. It almost felt like he was here with me. Sometimes, I wished he were.
