Page 34 of Last Night Was Fun

When the episode ended, a wave of sleepiness hit Emmy, thanksin large part to her full belly and the fact she’d slept in a mostly drunken stupor the night before and needed real rest. She yawned, and Gabe took his cue to leave.

“I should get going,” he said, and it struck her as odd all over again he was even in her apartment to begin with.

Had she really just had breakfast with Gabe Olson? Was she perhaps still asleep and drunk dreaming? Was he about to go sailing in his boat shoes and shorts?

“Got a boat to catch?” she joked and nodded at his shoes.

He combed a hand over his sculpted hair and quietly laughed. “Actually, yes. My cousin owns a charter company that does tours of the bay. One of his crew had to travel to go help with a family thing, so I’ve been stepping in as his replacement.”

“That’s generous of you.”

He casually shrugged like it was no big deal. “Yeah, let’s just hope I don’t lose my breakfast into the bay after last night.”

“Seasickness isn’t a very good quality in a sailor.”

“Indeed, it is not.” He scooped up both of their empty cartons and found her trash can at the end of the island. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Thanks for breakfast.”

“Sure—oh! I almost forgot.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded napkin. “The equation you wanted to see.”

Emmy unfolded the paper square she’d shoved at him last night and saw a complex string of Greek letters and mathematical symbols written in ink. She recognized the equation as one they used to calculate a player’s overall standing, except Gabe had added a new term that weighted the score differently.

“I figured out how to quantify my feelings,” he said with a sly grin. “Feel free to run that model on Hollander and see what you get.”

A mix of emotions crashed inside her. Surprise he’d dragged work into their otherwise pleasant conversation, annoyance this was a smug display of his signature one-upping, and most of all confusion,because she admittedly found a man handing her a math equation he’d invented at her request unbearably hot, and the fact that that man was Gabe Olson left her unsure what to do with the flutter in her chest.

Sass seemed like the safest route given all of the above. “I will,” she said with a skeptical tilt of her head.

He smiled at her. “See you Monday.”

“Bye,” she said with a small wave.

Gabe let himself out, and Emmy limped back over to her couch. She deflated herself with a heavy sigh and reached for the remote to select what would keep her company for the next several hours. The desire to get her laptop and run his model flitted through her, but her hangover squashed it. She could get to it tomorrow. She’d landed on a dating show with an absurd but addictive premise when her phone pinged with a message.

Axe Murderer.

With an instant smile, she opened it.

How are you feeling today?

Like shit, as expected.

Same. At least I had some greasy, spicy food to sop it up.

Same! And now I’m bingeing *exceptionally* trashy reality TV.

Sounds like your dream day.

The only thing missing was a text from you?

Happy to provide my services. How was your night? Is the hangover worth it?

Is it ever? But you know, all things considered, it was a good night.

I take it you weren’t expecting it to be?

Not really. Honestly, I tend to struggle with my co-workers. I don’t really fit in, but my boss has been encouraging me to try harder.