My Favorite Hal-Night Stand - Christina Lauren Page 0,30
the woman is either beautiful or hideous—her surprise really could mean either.
Alex sits down on the other side of Millie and leans over to look. “You matched with her?”
Ed gives a long enough pause that anyone but Alex might rethink his choice of word emphasis. “Yes.”
“And you posted a picture of yourself?” Alex is immediately pelted with Ed’s balled-up napkin.
Millie hands the phone back to Ed. “She looks nice.”
“ ‘Nice’?” Alex unwraps his sandwich. “She looks like she’d go down and eat a motherfucking salad, if you know what I’m saying.”
“What am I even walking up to here?” Chris sits down and carefully slides his Cobb salad onto the table in front of him.
“Alex is being a goblin,” Millie explains. “By the way, you all should know that I received a message last night from a man I thought I’d matched nicely with.” She grins. “He gave me explicit instructions on how to milk his balls.”
“Milk his balls?” I ask for clarification.
Alex opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, Chris gives a quiet “Dude. No.”
Moving on without hesitation, Alex says, “This dating app sucks. No one has given me access to their profiles yet.”
“Because you come across like Animal from The Muppets,” I tell him.
Millie protests, “Hey! I wrote that profile. And it’s all true, to be fair.”
“It is true,” Alex says. “My greatness may not come across on-screen, but is impossible to ignore in person.”
“And that ego,” Chris says.
Alex grins up at him.
I poke at my pasta. “I matched last night.”
“Oh really?” Millie drawls.
I look up at her sly grin. “You don’t believe me.”
At this, she laughs. “Oh, I believe you.”
“There were two,” I say and, oddly, her smarmy smile tilts down at the edges. “A woman named Daisy, and one named Catherine.”
I pull out my phone and open the app, handing it over to Chris when Daisy’s photo appears. He gives a low whistle. “Shit, man.”
Alex takes the phone from him and reacts the same way.
“So Catherine is hot?” Millie asks, reaching for it after Ed takes a glance.
I shake my head. “I can’t tell from her picture. That’s Daisy, and holy shit, she—”
“What do you mean you can’t tell from her picture?”
I take my phone back from Millie and look up at her. Her eyes are doing the weird intense, unblinking thing she does when she’s trying to work out a mystery or eat a hotter pepper than Chris without tearing up.
“Catherine’s picture is, like, of her neck or something,” I say, waving it off. “I can’t see her face.”
Alex performs as predicted: “So, she’s ugly.”
“Alex, come on,” Millie protests.
“Well, who knows,” I say. “But for sure I’ll reply to Daisy and—”
Millie cuts in. “Maybe for Catherine it’s about what’s behind the curtain rather than the curtain, you know?”
“If she was hot,” Alex reasons, “she’d show her curtain.”
Ed balls up his burrito wrapper and tosses it onto his tray. “Maybe she’s pretty but, for her, finding someone compatible isn’t all about looks?”
Millie sits up, pointing at him with a mixture of enthusiasm and aggression. “What Ed said. That. Why is it always about looks?”
“What do you care?” Alex asks. “You’re hot.”
“My point is that Catherine doesn’t care,” she argues. “And thank you, Alex, for being smart.”
Chris speaks around a bite of salad. “I mean, let’s be real. Reid is the Zac Efron boy next door. He isn’t gonna go for someone ugly.”
This makes me laugh. “If any one of us is a boy next door, it’s you, Chris.”
“Man, come on. You think America is talking about a black dude when they say that?” He swallows, and points at Millie with a fork. “To a large degree, looks are gonna matter. If you choose not to show a face, there’s a reason, right?”
Millie scoffs. “Like being private? I have about ten requests for my cup size on here. I can understand why a woman wouldn’t want to share her face right off the bat.”
“I mean, that’s not a bad point . . .” I look to Alex, hoping for once he keeps his mouth shut, and when it seems like he will, I turn back to Millie. “Will you help me reply to her, Mills?”
“To Catherine?” she asks.
“To Daisy,” I say, then amend, “Well, both, I guess. Maybe I could copy and paste what I write to Daisy into Catherine’s box, for now.”
Millie stares at me for a long, flat second, and then stands. “Sure, Reid. Send along their messages and I’ll help you.”