“Wait… commercial love machine?” Jack asks, confused.
“Yes. Jewelry companies. Chocolate manufacturers. All the people trying to make money by pressuring us all to be in love.”I make a face. “They grew this hardly noticed holiday into a billion-dollar industry. Last year, one hundred and forty-five million cards were exchanged. The average person spent nearly two hundred dollars on Valentine’s Day! Can you believe that?”
“So… this Solo February thing. It’s real.”
“Yes! Why?” I blink at him, confused.
“Oh, I just kind of thought you made it up. To blow me off.”
“Oh… oh, geez. No. It is real.” I pull up the entries on my phone and show him.
His eyes bulge. “Oh, itisreal. Wow.” He leans forward in his chair, intent on the screen as he scrolls through for a second, before whistling low and handing me back my phone. “You’ve got a following. That’s cool. I mean,reallycool.” Admiration shines in his eyes.
“Yeah.” I suddenly feel sheepish.
“I definitely think this should be a movie. We could call itThe Sex Cleanse. Better than juice.”
“Or…Relationships: We Never Really Needed Them Anyway.”
“Or…Solo February: Now You Don’t Have to Share Your Chocolates Anymore.”
“Or…Bacon: The Other Man Meat.”
“No, no, no…Man-Dependence Day!”
We’re both cackling and I laugh so hard, I snort. Which makes Jack snort. My stomach hurts, and somehow, I’ve already felt like I’ve found my new best friend, or actually, the old one I’ve always had.
“You’re sure you’re not free the entire month of February?” he asks me. He raises his eyebrow in a challenge. How can I say no to those puppy-dog brown eyes? I mean… come on. But. Ihave to. I think about Arial. About Larry’s fancy kibble. “Yeah. I’m afraid so.”
Jack stares at the ceiling, as if sending up a prayer. He lets out a long sigh, his left knee bouncing. “What about March?”
“March is absolutely available.” We gaze at each other, a long, meaningful look, and about a million possibilities pass between us. But before we can talk about any of them, the door to the exam room swings open, and a younger, almost-as-gorgeous-but-not-quite version of Jack walks into exam room four. Okay, so clearly Jack’s genome just screams sex. It’s not an accident he turned out to be so damn fine. His parents did this at least twice on purpose.
“Ian!” Jack hops to his feet and gives his brother a hug and a couple of hearty back slaps.
“Jack.” Ian grins. “Who’s your…” He pauses a bit too long. “Uh, friend?”
“Sora,” Jack says quickly.
“Wait! Sora. Why is that name so familiar?” Ian asks.
“We went to school together.” Jack almost mumbles the answer.
“Sora! Yes. I remember!Sora.” He says the name with weird emphasis. Ian grins. “I was a year behind you in school. Good to see you again.” He sends Jack a look. Then he glances at my swollen ankle. “Though, I wish we’d met under different circumstances. Mind if I examine you?”
I shake my head, and Ian tentatively explores the ankle with his fingers. “Ow!” I cry, and pull back.
Ian frowns. “Well, it could be broken. Or just sprained. We’ll need an X-ray to be sure. How did this happen?”
“FlyFit,” I mumble.
“Fly what?” Jack echoes.
Ian just shakes his head. “That gym brings us twenty percent of our business. Whoever thought hanging from silk curtains is a good idea?”
“I know, right?” I shake my head. “The whole thing is ridiculous. My mom and sister wanted me to go.”
“Well, no more FlyFit. That’s doctor’s orders.”
