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I hold the match card by my side as the crowd slowly files out of the building. Mason is just a few people ahead of me. As he hands his match card over to the event organizer, I can’t help but catch a glimpse of it. I don’t get a great look at it, but I’m pretty sure I only see oneXon his card.
Soon it’s my turn to hand over my match card. The event organizer glances at it, then looks back at me and says gently, “None?”
I smile politely as I shake my head. “No, but that’s okay. I still had fun.”
“You should come again, honey. Sometimes it can take a few times.”
“I’ll think about it. Thanks for hosting.”
“Of course. I hope I see you here again. Happy Holidays.”
Outside, it feels nice to breathe in the fresh evening air. I catch up with Mason and thread my arm through his. It’s good to be back to the two of us again. I’m always happiest when I’m by his side.
“Can we grab a drink somewhere?” I ask.
“Definitely,” he says. “Your name’s Haley, right?”
I glare at him and elbow him in the side.
“Ow! Jesus, Hales. You could kill a man with that elbow.”
“Oh, stop. I barely touched you.”
He shakes his head, his dark hair still looking as perfectly unkempt as it did when we left our apartments. “You’re stronger than you think.”
We walk north two blocks to one of our favorite bars, which is lit up with red and green string lights this time of year. I’m happy to see that our usual table is open, and I grab it while Mason goes up to the bar to get us our usual drinks—a whiskey highball for him and a negroni for me. As soon as Mason comes back and settles onto the stool beside me, I feel at ease.
“To unusual evenings,” he says, holding up his glass.
I clink my glass against his, then take a sip. “How’d it go for you?”
“Eh.” He shrugs. “I had some nice conversations, but I didn’t meet anyone I’d want to date.”
Wait, what? I swear I saw a check mark on his card. If he hit it off with someone, why wouldn’t he want to tell me about it?
“What about you, Hales?” he asks, peering over the edge of his glass at me.
“Same,” I say.
“Damn. Webothstruck out? That sucks.”
“Guess we’ll just have to go again next week.”
“Yeah,” he says, laughing lightly. “I guess so.”
I study him, wondering what’s going on in his head right now. I know this man well, and I can tell there’s more going on than he’s letting on.
“Did something happen?” I ask.
“What?”
“During the event. Did something happen? You’re acting kind of strange.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nothing happened.”
Maybe I need to try a different approach. “I bet a lot of those women marked you as a yes on their card.”
Mason laughs. “You think so?”
