“Add in that the women in the portrait look like the women we know.” Brad drummed his fingers on the table. “There’s a reason for that, and the reason puts them at the core of it all.”

“I’m not letting anything happen to Malory. Or any of them,” Flynn responded.

Jordan picked up his glass of iced tea. “Just how stuck on her are you?”

“That’s another question. I haven’t figured it out.”

“Well, we’ll help you there.” Jordan winked at Brad. “What’re friends for? How’s the sex?”

“Why’s that always first with you?” Flynn demanded. “That’s a lifelong pattern.”

“Because I’m a guy. And if you don’t think women rate sex high on the list, you’re a sad and pitiful fool.”

“It’s great.” Flynn met Jordan sneer for sneer. “You only wish you were having this level of sex with a beautiful woman. But it’s not like that’s the only thing going on between us. We have actual conversations, with and without clothes on.”

“Including phone conversations?” Brad asked. “That last over five minutes?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Just making the list. Have you cooked her anything? Not just nuking something, but using an actual stove.”

“I just made her some soup when—”

“That counts. Take her to any chick flicks?”

Frowning, Flynn picked up a triangle of sandwich. “I don’t know that it qualified as a chick flick.” He set it down again. “Okay, yes. Once, but it was—”

“No explanations, this part of the quiz is true or false. We can move on to our essay section,” Jordan assured him. “Picture your life in, let’s say five years. That work?” he asked Brad.

“Some require ten, but I think we can be more lenient. Five works for me.”

“Okay, picture your life in five years. Can you structure the visual without her being in it?”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to picture five years from now when I’m not sure what I’ll be doing in five days.”

But he could, he could see his house, with some of the long-term plans he had for it in place. He could see himself at the paper, walking Moe, hanging out with Dana. And he could see Malory at every angle. Walking down the stairs in the house, coming by the paper to meet him, chasing Moe out of the kitchen.

He went a little pale. “Oh, man.”

“She’s in there, isn’t she?” Jordan asked.

“She’s in there all right.”

“Congratulations, son.” Jordan slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re in love.”

“Wait a minute. What if I’m not ready?”

“Tough luck,” Brad replied.

BRAD knew all about luck and decided his was in when he stepped out of the diner and spotted Zoe stopped at the traffic light.

She was wearing dark wraparound sunglasses and moving her lips in a way that made him assume she was singing along with the car stereo.

It wasn’t stalking, exactly, if he just happened to hop in his car, zip out into traffic and follow. The fact that he cut off a pickup truck was completely incidental.