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But she’d argued that if they hadn’t been able to complete their task within a month, then either they’d failed or I’d refused to cooperate. The logical response was then to either punish them or revert to 1.0. As annoyed as I was with these two winged dumbasses, I couldn’t bring myself to agree to let them be punished for failing to hook me up with someone. I mean, apart from a handful of brief relationships, I hadn’t been able to pull it off in the seven years since my divorce. Was it really fair for them to take the heat if they couldn’t work an actual miracle in thirty days?
So… fine. We had a month to get me on the radar of a man who thought I was worth a damn. Because the odds of pullingthatoff weren’t depressingly grim.
Raziel fluttered forward, probably to get a better look at my screen. “And which dating apps do you have?”
Andras joined him, and he snorted. “Those aren’t dating apps. Those are hookup apps.”
“Do you know how many people have met their spouses on Tinder?” I tapped the app in question. “Sometimes it starts there.”
Raziel made one of those affronted sounds he often did. “That’s no way to start a relationship.”
I was about to remind him that the whole point of this was to get me laid, and Tinder and Grindr were perfectly good for that, but Andras groaned, “Razi. Can we not do this again? Some people start there.”
“But then they’re just…” Raziel waved his arms around like one of those inflatables that car dealerships used for some reason. “That’s just lust! You can’t find love if you’re looking for—”
“The fuck he can’t!” Andras threw back, and he whipped his tail at Raziel, knocking a yelp out of the angel. To me, he said, “Let’s see your profile.”
Why was I so embarrassed at the prospect of showing them my Tinder profile? Or—God help me—my Grindr profile? I put those out there specifically for people to see and hopefully connect with me. Made sense to show them to this pair.
Except something told me they’d take one look at them and declare,“Welp, there’s the problem. Your profile is trash, and—well, hell, so are you.”
I rolled my eyes and tapped a profile, but right then, my front door swung open.
“Hey.” Cory shot me a smile as he came in with some takeout bags hanging from his wrist. “Sorry. That took longer than I thought it would.”
“That’s fine.” I took in a deep breath through my nose. “Oh, God, that smells good.” I put my phone aside, ignoring the protests from Andras and Raziel. “Were they busy?”
Cory actually blushed as he toed off his shoes. “Uh… Well…”
I studied him. “What?”
The blush deepened. “That cute cashier was working tonight.” He gave me an apologetic shrug and a sheepish grin. “I… might’ve been flirting a bit.”
The surge of jealousy almost made me waver on my feet. Only years of practice keeping a poker face in the courtroom and at the deposition table stopped me from letting that jealousy show. Instead, I managed to chuckle as I offered to take the bags. “Yeah? How’d that go?”
Cory handed over the bags, and as we headed for the kitchen, he said, “I mean, he told me I was his favorite customer, and he gave me a free order of breadsticks, so… I guess it went okay?”
I glanced at him, forcing a smile. “Didn’t get his number?”
Cory laughed, dropping his gaze as his cheeks turned even redder. “I… I mean… He’s at work, you know?” He slid his hands into his pockets and met my gaze through those long lashes. “I didn’t want to put him on the spot.”
“That’s fair.” And why was I so relieved? I didn’t have a chance in hell with Cory. He quite clearly wasn’t into me. So if he connected with someone else, that was a good thing. Wasn’t it?
It was, but I was pretty sure I’d die inside the moment I realized he’d locked a man down.
Damn. Forget thirty days. I needed Andras and Raziel to find me a partnerstatso I wouldn’t lose my mind when Cory met someone.
The pair of shoulder pests were still full from Pinkberry, so they didn’t partake. Cory and I divided the food between us, including the extra breadsticks the cute cashier had given him. As a means of flirting.
Ugh. God. I wasn’t even hungry anymore, but I dug into my food anyway. Cory had picked up some lunch portion pasta dishes from the Italian café across the street from our building. They made some of the best pasta in town, and they didn’t cost an arm and a leg. Plus they were close enough we didn’t have to bother with delivery apps and all their shady fees.
And Cory can flirt with the—
Matt. Stop. Jesus.
We sat on the couch with our containers and a couple of beers, and I’d barely taken my first bite before Raziel cheerfully announced, “Oh, I have a brilliant idea!”
“Oh,great,” Andras drawled, letting the sarcasm drip. “Thisshould be good.”
