Page 39 of Last Night Was Fun

Her pumping heart positively soared to the moon.

One-upping me, I see. Who are these 3 people?

My sister, my mom, and, oddly, my barber.

His mom? Hismomknew about her?!

A literal squeal snuck from Emmy’s throat, and she was glad no one was there to hear it. She composed herself to send back another message.

Wow. Barber. That’s a big step.

Indeed.

She tapped her thumbs on the sides of her phone, not sure what to say next. She’d been reluctant to admit what they had was more than just a texting thing, but it was clear it was. They’d both told important people in their lives about each other. Emmy may have been out of the dating race, but she knew that meant they were already beyond casual.

And she knew in the past week of silence, she’d missed him.

Her phone buzzed with another message.

So?

So, what?

A measurable pause passed. Emmy’s mind filled it with a thousand tiny pricks of nerves. She felt herself standing on a very high ledge with one foot dangling out over the deep expanse below. The thought of falling in was at once terrifying and thrilling, and he waspoised to push her. She was almost certain she knew what he was going to say. And sure enough, he delivered.

Should we meet?

And with that, she felt herself fall. Gravity pulled her down at the same time something far more amiable lifted her up. The tug-of-war left her twisting and turning in indecision over the potential outcomes: hit the ground or hope he caught her before the bone crush.

She thought about what her sister had said. They had to jump together, and he had just jumped.

But the thought of joining him stilled Emmy with too much fear.

She hadn’t planned to meet anyone. She was buried at work—and trying to get promoted on top of that. Her sister’s wedding was in a week, and she still had to make it through the bachelorette party this weekend and find a date. Yes, asking Axe Murderer to be her date was a solution glaring at her with the obviousness of a sunburn, but what if that turned out to be a disaster? What if she felt no in-person attraction when she saw him, and then she was stuck with him for a long weekend nearly three thousand miles from home and having to explain to everyone how they’d “met” and navigate what was sure to be a painfully awkward situation for all involved?

Again, she heard her sister’s words: What if it was better than what they had texting?

Her data-driven brain tried to write an equation to figure out if that could possibly be true. Given what she knew of him, what was the probability their experience would enhance if they took it to the next level? Yes, he was charming, funny, thoughtful. He was obviously close with his family despite what he’d told her about his parents’ dashed hopes for his future. He knew his way around a pun like no one she’d ever met. And on that note, he was easier to talk to than anyone she’d ever met. But was that because all their communicationhad been through a screen? Would their chemistry translate face-to-face?

Emmy was about to open a spreadsheet and assign numerical values to her pro/con list and literally write an equation to determine next steps when another text came through.

No pressure. Sorry. The timing finally felt right to me seeing that my hang-ups are communication and finding a connection, and we’ve established we’re pretty on fire with both of those things.

Emmy softly smiled at his sincere and accurate message.

You’re right, we are?

But...?

She sighed and knew she could be completely honest with him.

But this is perfect. I don’t know about for you, but talking to you is the best thing in my life right now. Aren’t you worried things will get ruined if we take it to the next level?

See, when you say things like “the best thing in my life right now” it makes me want to scour the city door-to-door until I find you.

Emmy chewed at the smile on her lips.

There are a lot of doors in this city.