A red blush creeps over what I can see of his cheeks. “Nothing.” The word comes out barely audible, and he rushes out his next words before I have a chance to respond. “Hobbies, then?”

“Working, hanging out with my friends, working more, talking to my plants, and working.” I reach over to the small vase of flowers sitting on the side of the table, rearranging the buds to keep me from reaching over and grabbing that stupid file folder.

“And how would you describe your overall temperament?”

My mouth drops open. I cross my arms, leaning on the table, closing the space between us to less than a foot, ready to let this guy know what’s up, because I’ve had a week and I am so not in the mood for this. “Look. I realize I haven’t been on a date in like far longer than I’d really like to admit, but seriously? Is this what I’ve been missing? Because no thank you. I should’ve just stayed home with my Netflix and my plants, and yeah, I realize how pathetic that makes me sound as I hear those words coming out of my mouth, and yeah, I don’t even care at this point, because that’s how weird this is.”

He leans back in his chair as if he can’t physically stand to share my space. “Whoa. Who said anything about a date?”

“Are you kidding me right now? Am I being punk’d? This cannot be real life.” I start to push my chair back and stand, but Jack places a hand on my forearm. It’s warm, and soft, and his grip is surprisingly gentle.

There’s a beat of silence, during which Jack seems to realize he’s still holding on to my arm. As soon as he does, he drops it like I scalded him.

“Sorry. Don’t leave. I didn’t mean to sound like a dick, I’m just a little confused.” He gestures for me to retake my seat.

I do, but I move it away from the table and cross my arms over my chest. Like the mature adult I am.

“Why’d you think this was a date?” His voice holds no judgment, only curiosity.

Pulling out my phone, I swipe over and click on the app. “I matched with you on a dating app. What else would this be?” I hold up my screen.

He purses his lips as he studies my phone. “That isn’t a dating app.”

“Um, hello? Yes it is. I swiped right, you swiped right, we matched, we set a date.” I turn the phone back to face me, feeling like I’m in some kind of horror movie. And then true horror overtakes me.

ROOMMATEZ is splashed over the top of my screen, right there in bright orange letters.