“The proper term would be bookstagrammer,” I say proudly. “And one of the best parts is that I’ve gotten a big enough following that once and a while publicists will send me a free early copy of a book from a publisher to promote on my page. Book mail is always the best mail.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“Very fancy.” I lift my drink and take another sip. My straw is pushed against the bottom of the glass, leaving me with a big gulp of alcohol and none of the pineapple or cranberry juice. I close my eyes against the harsh taste before I put my glass back onto the table. “And what do you do for fun?”

“Secret’s out,” Ryan says, leaning forward and peering around our steadily growing tower. “When night falls, I also take anonymous pictures of my favorite books.”

“You can try but it really is a highly competitive field.”

“So I’m learning.” He sits up straight, rolling a shoulder before carefully pulling out his next block. “Other than that, I go to the gym after work, I golf on the weekends, I’m in a fantasy football league...”

“Ugh,” I interrupt, “I’m sorry to bust in, but I firmly believe that fantasy football is a plague on our society.”

“And you’re entitled to that opinion. I firmly believe it’s the bedrock of our great nation.”

“Okay.” I chuckle. “You know, I’m sure fantasy football would be fine in moderation, but in my experience, that’s never the case. How many leagues are you in during football season? Tell the truth.”

“I may or may not be in three.”

“My point exactly.” I pull out my next block and the tower starts to wobble. I don’t feel comfortable breathing again until it steadies a couple seconds later.

“How do you know so much about fantasy football?” Ryan asks as I take a calming sip of my drink.

“My ex-boyfriend was in two leagues and he turned into an absolute freak of nature every Sunday.”

Ryan stops his block mid-pull, his eyes revealing a trace of something I know he doesn’t want me to see. Sensing my intrusion, he concentrates back on his block, gently placing it on top. “Were you guys together for a long time?”

A large group walks in then, more guys than girls, and I secretly hope they don’t sit next to us. They’re in good spirits but seem a little rowdy. Thankfully, they grab Operation and Trivial Pursuit and push a bunch of tables together in the corner, near one of the TVs. They end up making good background noise as I look back at Ryan.

“Mark and I went out for three years.”

“Must have been serious,” he says. “Why did you guys break up?”