Anyone wanna grab pizza? Ramen? Something easy and cheap? I have a sister update, I texted Lola and Cleo. I could kill two birds with one stone tonight: fill up my stomach and fill them in about responding to Anna.

Hanging with Perrine! Lola responded. Rain check? Update us here?

Paper-grading hell, is all Cleo wrote. Rain check pls, and I want to hear everything.

Before I could respond, my email alert rang, and I frantically switched over to my inbox, assuming Anna had gotten my message and written back quickly. Instead, my heart jumped. There was a message from Hayes.

F –

Just signing off on the fridge delivery time. I can be there to meet them, no problem.

There was nothing erotic, or flirty, or sexy to it. No mention of last night, our dance, the way our bodies seemed to naturally gravitate toward each other every time we were near.

I fumed. A robot could have written this message. I was so annoyed I didn’t even notice his sign-off at first. But once I did, it was all I could see.

Can’t wait to talk soon.

—H

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Hayes

I was standing shirtless in the bathroom, postshower, trying to shave while also eyeing my phone, waiting for another message to come through from Franny. We’d been texting, which, oddly, felt even more intimate than seeing her in person, and I’d basically glued the phone to my hand so that I’d always be ready when another message popped up. Normally, I tried to give myself some space from my devices. I always slept without my phone in my bedroom—I didn’t have much work-life balance beyond that, even though I tried—but the past few nights I’d been heading to bed with my phone in hand, eager to see what she’d written.

I was sliding the razor down my face when my phone buzzed, and I moved my hand so quickly I nicked my chin. “Ow!” I flinched. It didn’t stop me from grabbing my phone in the other hand.

So let me guess, her message said. You’re deciding between a suit and…a suit to wear tonight.

I sent back a series of emojis, a face with a tongue sticking out, and then the 100, for good measure. She was exactly right. I dabbed at the cut on my face with a tissue, and then typed.

Heads up there will be a couple reporters at the party, I texted her. Maybe we can get your business some press.

You’ve seen me in an interview, she wrote back. You sure? LOL

I sent one of those laugh-crying emojis, but once it went through it felt childish and embarrassing. Would she think that was dumb? Ugh, I was agonizing over the stupidest things these days. Any word from your sister?

Not yet, but that’s fair. It took me weeks to respond.