My Favorite Half-Night Stand(43)

I bark out a laugh that echoes in the empty kitchen. “What! That’s insane! How much did you have to drink?”

I stand and move to step around him, only to be stopped short by the cord jerking me backward.

“Mills,” he says, “I’m in the room next to yours, and in case you haven’t noticed, the walls are pretty thin. I heard all about some ‘spot’ you wanted him to ‘keep hitting.’ I hope you both refreshed with electrolytes afterward, because”—he whistles—“wow.”

“I . . .” My eyes dart around the kitchen, hoping the correct response will materialize on one of the community flyers on the fridge. “Okay, there’s a good explanation for all that.”

Ed scoots back, propping his feet on the edge of the table. “I’m ready when you are.”

Defeat and panic make me insane. I grab Ed by the shoulders. “Don’t tell him I’m Catherine,” I say in a burst. “If he finds out . . . I . . .” I shake my head and start again, “He . . .”

To his credit, Ed doesn’t seem to be taking much joy from my mortification. He sits up and holds his hands out in front of him. “What were you thinking? That you didn’t want him to like Daisy?”

“Yes?”

“But you wanted him to like Catherine?”

I nod emphatically. I know the answer to this question. “Yes.”

“But there isn’t a Catherine.”

“No. I mean, yes. It’s my middle name . . .”

Ed rolls his eyes. “Well in that case, it’s totally okay. So what happens if he does like Catherine? Won’t he eventually want to meet her? I mean, you? Since you’re Catherine.”

I glance back over his shoulder and hiss, “Can you stop saying Catherine so many times?”

He glares at me. “Do you like him?”

“Reid? What? No.” I double down on this answer, even though it feels a lot like lying. “Not like that.”

“I love how offended you look, considering what I had to listen to last night.” He stands and walks to the fridge, opening the door and pulling out a beer. “I am not drunk enough for this yet.”

“Ed, it’s like seven in the morning.”

He wheels on me. “I will not be judged by you!”

Holding up my hands in defense, I tell him through a laugh, “Fine, sorry, sorry.”

He cracks the bottle open and returns to his seat. “Now you. Out with it.”

“Okay.” Deep breath. Calm down. “I started an account because you guys gave me shit about how boring mine was, and also I was getting matched with a lot of assholes. But then Reid somehow matched with me—as Cat. I thought he’d figure it out because I made some stupid crack about Monopoly. And Girls Trip. And cats. But he didn’t!”

I wait.

Ed blinks. “You are not blaming Reid here for being too dumb to know he’s talking to you online.”

Yes. “No.” I groan, dropping my head to my arms on the table. “When you guys started talking about how Catherine must be ugly, I guess I got a little competitive.”

“Well, at least it sounds like you had a proportionate response. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Shut up. I know.”

“We were all doing this together,” he says. “Am I the only person taking this dating plan seriously?”

When I sit up again, he’s looking at me with Sad Ed eyes, and I can barely stand it. “I’m taking it seriously. I promise. It just . . .” I flounder. “Once I started being Cat it felt—I don’t know—easier to be more open? Is that weird?”

“Not really,” he admits. “I think I get why you’d want to keep it to yourself. But . . . it’s Reid. You know? You’re lying to Reid. That’s like lying to your dad or something.”

“No, Ed, it’s nothing like that. Please don’t put Reid and dads—”

“It’s bad, is what I’m saying.”

“I know how bad it is,” I hiss, and the truth rolls out of me without warning, “but it’s also sort of nice.”

He tilts his head down, staring up at me through thick eyebrows. “It’s ‘nice’?”

I feel my cheeks heat. My explanation comes out meek: “I like being able to talk to Reid like this. Is that terrible?”

Ed stares at me with gentle pity. “You are a mess, you know this, right?”

I sit up. “You won’t tell him, will you?”

I can’t even fathom what I’d do if Reid found out. Am I in too deep? I mean . . . it doesn’t feel like a runaway train yet. It feels like we’re getting to know each other, like a sweet entrée into . . . a different place for us. But the idea of Ed saying something to Reid before I can figure out how to fix this so thoroughly nauseates me that it chases away any residual hurt-anger that Reid left my bed to go write Cat. I am, without a doubt, the bad guy here.

Ed runs a hand through his hair and looks around the room. “I won’t say anything. But this kind of thing is sort of hard to juggle, Mills.”





chapter ten


        reid


Millie has to walk past my bedroom to get to the stairs, and I hear her passing by around seven in the morning. I know it’s her because I hear her shushing Bailey and cleverly avoiding the squeakiest spots in the hallway—something Alex and Ed would never think to do.