“It’s not too bad. I actually don’t—” he starts, but is promptly cut off by Mona.

“Oh no, none of that.” Mona clucks her tongue at him. “Did you know our Drew here is a Colorado expert?”

If I thought I could avoid this, I would do something to stop her. But not only do I know what Mona’s going to say next; I also know there’s no way to stop this disaster from coming to fruition.

“She’s a very good photographer. She’s always snapping her camera and driving all around to take pictures of these little towns and places I’ve never heard of.” Mona is still talking, but Jasper’s eyes flicker to me with curiosity working behind the ocean-blue center. Like this new bit of information about me has changed the way he sees me. It takes everything in me not to fidget beneath his intense gaze and put my focus back on a still-rambling Mona. “. . . she’s been everywhere. You know! I’m sure she could tell you all the great places for your book. Maybe you could take her to dinner and discuss it?”

Annnnnndddd . . .

There it is.

I knew this was the destination, but it still doesn’t lessen the recoil of my stomach when she finally lands the plane.

I love the Dirty Birds and their devotion to stepping in for Gran since she’s been gone, but they are truly horrendous matchmakers. I’ve been dodging their attempts since the last one ended with me listening to their mutual friend’s grandson drone on and on and on about Bitcoin and the trading market. He didn’t stop until his roommate showed up and he basically kicked me out of the restaurant so they could do Jägerbombs at the bar or some shit.

“Oh, that’s not—” I start, waving off this terrible idea.

“That’d be great, actually.” Jasper speaks over me—all the encouragement I could need to want to spend an evening out with him. “I’ve been trying to network, but it seems like most people I find are transplants. It’d be great to see the city from someone who really knows it.”

I try to keep the expression on my face neutral, but between the amused smirk on Jasper’s face and the heart eyes the Dirty Birds—excluding Collette, obvi—are now sporting, I feel like my head might explode.

I want to say no.

It’s one of my favorite words. I say it all day long. No. No. No.

Two letters.

So simple.

No.

But for some reason, it won’t come out. It’s lodged in the back of my throat and I’m choking on it. Maybe it’s because the Dirty Birds have been there for me so much since Gran passed away that I can’t bear to crush the hopeful looks on their faces. Maybe it’s because even though I know Jasper’s only going along with this to placate Mona and the rest of the ladies, part of me wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with him. I know we have nothing in common and nothing will come from it, but taking a night away from the messy, depressing status of my current life to look at his gorgeous face doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.