“We’ll go with you.” Heat crawled up my back. “Not in the shower!” I dropped my napkin for an excuse to bend down and hide my face. When I raised my back a moment later, I’d composed myself. “I need to grab my suitcase from your room.”

Finn gave an exaggerated pout. “I like your first idea better, but fine.”

While Kate giggled, I swatted him with my bagel bag before tossing it in a public trash can a few feet away.

Later, while Finn presumably showered in his room, I chastised Kate in mine. She sat on the edge of the bed with her feet dangling while I paced the room. “As the overprotective bestie in this triangle, you’re supposed to hate Finn, no questions asked. You’re not supposed to make googly eyes and invite him to dinner with us.”

“If Finn had been a dick to you, you can be sure I’d hate him and he’d know it. But from everything you’ve told me, he’s been super nice! Besides,” she said, cocking her head, “it’s obvious he likes you.”

I gnawed the inside of my cheek. “As a temporary hookup. I was great at my job.”

She stood and placed her hand on my shoulders. Shaking them lightly, she said, “There’s a method behind my madness. Inviting him out with us is a way to get to know him better and find out why he doesn’t want a relationship. You said you found nothing juicy online, right?”

I’d told her I caved and Googled Finn, but aside from his social media accounts—all private—I didn’t find anything except a brief mention in a story about The Hollows and a photo on the website for Habitat for Humanity’s Global Village program. (He was photogenic AF.)

I raised my hands to her shoulders, and we stood head-to-head like a pregame huddle. “Just promise me it’s not because you hope he changes his mind. That he’ll magically want a girlfriend after having dinner with us. As already established in clear, bright Technicolor, my life is not the stuff of romantic comedies, and Pleasant Hollow is not Angel Falls or any of those other magical TV towns. I’ve accepted it. You need to as well.” I gave her a light headbutt.

“I promise.” She dropped her hands. “And after dinner, we can always ditch Finn and go to Brothers. I can be your wingwoman.”

I shook my head impatiently. “Except the married mayor doesn’t even live here, the handyman is more interested in getting to know Manhattan than me…” To avoid discussing the irony, I quickly moved on. “And if the town has a single male doctor, lawyer, chef, or devoted schoolteacher, I haven’t run into him yet.”

“That’s because you haven’t had me to help you.” She lifted an eyebrow.

“Kate.” I dragged out her name.