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He pushed a plate toward her. “You think you’re the only one who can go for the shock-and-awe lines?”
“Ladies and gentlemen, he cooks, he critiques, he slams down the one-liners.” She made spirit-finger hands and the haaah sound of a crowd cheering.
“Eat your damn pie.”
She ate the pie and it was a kind of bliss in her mouth that made her want to fall in like with Tom. The guy had a special place to put the TV remote, so the chances of that happening were snowball-meet-hell.
Some other guy strumming a guitar was singing about shooting up and not knowing who he was. It was the story of their evening. “Who is that?” she said, hoping to distract Tom while she licked her plate.
“Velvet Underground.”
“Is the song called ‘I’m Trying to Kill Myself’?”
“Close enough. ‘Heroin.’”
“Dude is probably on Tinder.”
“Lou Reed. He’s dead.”
“Too much heroin?”
“He walked on the wild side. Liver disease, so maybe.”
“This is an excellent pie.”
“You licked the plate, you’re a heathen. You can have another piece.”
She sucked on her fork. There was half a pie left, but she’d pop if she ate any more now. “What’s going to happen to it?” Leftover pie, it was unheard of in her life.
“It’ll keep.”
“Are you saying I could have another piece tomorrow?”
“No, I was saying it will keep.”
He was so, so, so deliberately provocative. “Are you really on Tinder?”
“Are you?”
“I’m asking
the questions.” He deserved that.
He knew it too. He groaned. “I’m on it. It’s a hiking shot, lots of scenery and a little of me. I go by TC.”
And she deserved that. Finally, something about him that wasn’t polished. “Tom Cat?” Typical.
“Oh God, no. Top Cat. My mom used to call me that.” He passed a hand over his face. “I need to quit the app. I never look at it. Josh set it up so we could compare Tinder and Grindr. He was into all of them for a laugh. Scruff, Growlr, Recon, Daddyhunt, Guyspy.”
Impressive knowledge of dating apps. “I hooked up with it once. It was awful. I mean, it wasn’t dangerous, just made me sad.”
“I failed to hook up with it twice. Got stood up once and did the standing up once.”
“Disaster. We should have a ritual app deletion ceremony.” Yeah, if they were fifteen-year-olds. The pie had gone to her head.
“Let’s do it.”
Oh.
