Here's to Us(What If It's Us #2)(16)

“Totally. Totally random,” I say, nodding. Okay, wow. Now my head’s spinning. Windmill brain, dreidel brain, giant fucking tornado brain. Because yesterday, Ben liked my post about moving to New York. And suddenly he’s hanging out at Levain Bakery, in my neighborhood, on my moving day? Talk about a neon sign from the universe. Unless— “Did Ben say anything?”

Jessie tilts her head. “Anything?”

“About me.” My cheeks go warm. “I don’t know. I was just wondering—I don’t even know if he knows I’m here.”

“Oh, definitely. He called it your New York do-over.”

My lungs stop working. I open my mouth and then shut it.

Jessie raises her eyebrows. “You okay?”

“What? Yeah, of course. I’m just . . .” I pause. “Do you think I should text him?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Because of Mikey?”

“Yes! Art, come on—”

“Oh my God.” I laugh. “I’m not talking about a booty call. I’m talking about a friendly, platonic ‘hey, what’s up, we haven’t talked in a sec—’”

“Not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Arthur, two seconds ago we had to lie about me running into Ben—”

“We?” I look at her incredulously. “That was you!”

“Yeah, because how many times have you told me Mikey gets weird when you talk about your New York summer?”

“You think I don’t talk about that summer with Mikey?”

“You literally just had to explain to him who Namrata is.”

“Okay, not sure why my boyfriend needs to know every coworker from two years ago.”

“I’m just saying, Mikey’s clearly already sensitive about Ben. Why would you want to add that to the mix right now?”

I shake my head. “You’re overthinking this. I’m not trying to hook up with him! I just want to say hi, okay? I’m in his city! He was one of my best friends—”



“He’s your ex,” Jessie says.

“And my friend! Those aren’t mutually exclusive concepts.” I shove another bite of cookie into my mouth, chewing it roughly. “Just because”—I swallow—“you don’t talk to Ethan—”

“This has nothing to do with me and Ethan.” She stands abruptly, pressing both hands to her stomach. “Wow, this cookie is dense.”

I nod vaguely, but my brain’s already miles away. Jessie running into Ben has to be some kind of sign from the universe, right? That’s not a thing that happens in New York. Not without celestial intervention. Am I supposed to just ignore that?

Mikey would understand. I’m not saying he’d be thrilled at first, but he trusts me. As he should. Because as far as personal lines in the sand go, cheating on my boyfriend is up there with voting Republican and murder. Plus Mikey did say I should see Ben if I want to see him. Which isn’t to say I, you know, want to see Ben. I just mean it doesn’t have to be a big deal. Honestly, not texting Ben would be weirder because then I’m actively avoiding him, thus proving I still have feelings for him. And I don’t. Have feelings for Ben.

So why shouldn’t I text him?

What if I just . . . did?





Chapter Five


Ben

Monday, May 18




I was the reigning champion for Most Likely to Arrive Late until Mario came along.

I check my phone, clocking him at twenty minutes late. So far. I’m not trying to be that guy who nags him about being on time. Hudson definitely wasn’t a fan of my chronic lateness while we were dating, and Arthur took it even more personally. But Mario and I aren’t dating, so I shouldn’t even be putting him in the same sentences with those two. Mario is a friend who I like—actually like—and I can’t act like he’s my boyfriend until he becomes mine.

If he even wants to.

The thing is, everything we’re doing today is for him, and now it’s going to derail our entire evening. I’ve tried calling him a couple times, but no answer. It’s not even going straight to voice mail, which would at least probably mean he’s on the subway.

I call again because I feel like an idiot waiting around like this.

“Lo sé, lo sé, lo siento,” Mario says, out of breath. “I swear I’m like fifteen minutes away . . . twenty tops.”

“Twenty minutes? What happened?”

“I had to stop my brothers from killing each other over our PlayStation, but I’m in a Lyft now making up for lost time! I packed up my uncle’s stuff and I’ll mail it at that post office on Lexington. Then I can go straight to the barber from there before Francisco cancels the appointment.”

“Yeah, we can’t have you walking around without a haircut.”

“I cannot rock a man bun like Dylan.”

I’m sure Mario could pull off any look. “All right, but the later you are, the later we’re going to be to our movie.”

“It’s on Netflix,” Mario says.

“Yeah, but my parents are going to be home by eight. So it’ll be all Netflix. No chill.”

“Or maybe no Netflix and all chill,” Mario whispers, like he doesn’t want the driver to hear.