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I glance over at her to see that she’s looking at me. “Yeah?”
She nods. “Yeah. You can be my dating Yoda, or whatever, and help me find Mr. Right. I can’t promise I’ll take all your advice, but I promise to listen and consider it.”
“Fair enough. Ice cream?”
“Like you have to ask.”
We stop by Peachy Freeze, the local ice cream parlor, and I go inside while Layna waits in the car. I grab a pint of cookie dough for her and pistachio for myself before hurrying back to the car. I pass her the bag containing the two cartons of ice cream and she peeks inside before smiling.
“What?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Nothing. Just surprised you remembered my favorite flavor.”
I roll my eyes as I back out of the parking spot. “I only remember it because one day I’m going to visit you in the hospital after you get salmonella from unbaked cookie dough.”
She laughs. “The stuff in ice cream is safe. It’s just the homemade dough you shouldn’t eat raw. I looked it up.”
“Says the woman who eats raw cookie dough by the tube,” I mutter. “Of course, you looked it up.”
She just shrugs. “If eating cookie dough is wrong, I don’t want to be right.”
We keep up the banter for the five minutes it takes to drive to my house. When we go inside, Layna takes off her shoes and grabs us some spoons while I go for my laptop. We end up seated on the couch together eating ice cream and laughing as we put together her dating profile. I steal photos of her from Piper’s social media to use because she doesn’t have photos of herself on her phone that aren’t selfies. She tries to argue about some of the wording I use in the bio I write for her, but I ultimately win.
“This is crazy, right?” she asks as she studies the profile we’ve made.
I shrug. “I don’t see why it’s crazy. Lots of people use online dating and tons of people find the right person online. What’s crazy about it?”
She sighs and ducks her head, not able to meet my gaze.
“Tell me,” I say.
“It just feels like I’m trying too hard or something,” she says. “Aren’t people going to wonder why I can’t meet a man on my own? Why I need to resort to an online dating site?”
I ignore the sting of those words. She did meet a man on her own. And she did hit it off with that man. Only she doesn’t want to see him that way. And now I’m thinking of myself in the third person. I shake off that train of thought and try to focus on what Layna needs right now.
“Listen,” I say. “You’re not trying too hard, and no one is going to think that. They’re going to think you’re a busy professional who’s spent the past several years making a career for herself, rather than focusing on romance. And there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with you, Layna. Where’s the strong, confident woman who bosses me around every chance she gets?”
She laughs and I see a hint of a blush on her cheeks. “That’s different.”
“I don’t think it is,” I say. “You’re a successful lawyer and a total badass. There’s some man out there who wishes he was lucky enough to be with you.”
That man is me.
I think the words, but I don’t say them. She won’t welcome them, I know. No matter what I feel, she’s made it clear that we’re just friends these days. Which means I also resist the urge to kiss her.
“Thanks, Cole,” she says. “You’re not bad at the pep talk thing.”
I grin. “If I ever need a reference, I know who to call.”
“Why are you doing this?” Layna asks, catching me off-guard.
“What do you mean?”
She gestures at the computer. “This. Why are you helping me with a dating profile? Why are you agreeing to be my wing man after…”
She trails off, but I don’t need her to finish to know what she was going to say.
“After we spent more than a year giving each other orgasms every chance we could?” I say.
