“Meeting someone?” I asked faux breezily. “Is that code for ‘Tinder date’? Are you meeting someone from online?”

His cheeks colored, and that told me all I needed to know: he was definitely meeting a woman there, probably a first date. So the situation wasn’t ideal—I didn’t like that he was actively dating while referring to Cat as “great”—but it wasn’t completely hopeless. I was an excellent matchmaker—I’d introduced Jasmine to her now-husband, Hannah to her boyfriend, and Tatiana to her girlfriend. (I couldn’t—and gladly didn’t—take credit for Izzy and Russell.) I knew I could do the same for Cat. She was a good friend, and I wanted to help her.

My phone buzzed, my reminder to get to spin class.

“I have to run, but it was nice bumping into you. We’ll have to get together with Cat again,” I said, fully intending to make plans and then bow out at the last minute, leaving the two of them on a surprise date.

“That would be great. See you around, Audrey.”

I waved goodbye and walked to the intersection. While I waited to cross, I felt eyes boring into the back of my neck. I glanced over my shoulder at Connor, but he was preoccupied with his phone. I turned my attention back to the intersection, but as the light changed, I felt the same sensation once more. I hurried across the street and then whirled around, fully expecting to catch some creep ogling me.

Instead, I found my face just inches from Nick’s strong chest.

“Nick!” I squealed, laughing with relief even as my heart continued to pound. “You scared me! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

He smiled impishly. “You know how much I like to make you scream.”

“You’re bad,” I said, socking him lightly in the stomach. “But what are you even doing over in this neighborhood? And don’t say you’re here to see me.”

“Of course Little Ms. Vain thinks I’m here to see her,” he joked, ruffling my hair. “Nah, babe. I’m meeting a buddy for a drink down the street. Want to join?”

“No way. The last time I joined you on one of your bro dates, I was subjected to two hours of nonstop fantasy football bullshit.”

“I can assure you that won’t happen this time,” he said seriously before breaking into a huge grin. “It’s fantasy baseball season.”

“How tragic that I’ve already booked a bike and will have to miss out,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “Have fun with your fake sports, nerd.”

“Speaking of nerds,” Nick said, nodding toward Connor, who was still engrossed in his phone outside Columbia Brews. “Who was that?”

“Just a friend of Cat’s. You remember Cat from college?”

He snorted. “That weirdo? How could I forget?”

“Don’t be an asshole, Nick. Cat’s been good to me.”

“Not as good as me,” he said, wrapping a thick arm around my midsection and pulling me close.

“Don’t,” I protested, wriggling out of his grasp.