Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Mom and I tap biscuit halves like we’re toasting, and I tuck my share into my mouth, chewing slowly and savoring the flavor. It might be total food porn, but my reaction’s honest as my eyes close and I moan at the deliciousness. Mouth still full, I say, “Thanks, Mom.”
I give everyone another Sunshine Salute and end the video.
Looking at my phone, I preview the video quickly and laugh. “Mom, you were saluting with me!”
“Of course! I know what’s up,” Mom says, smiling as though that’s something ‘fresh’ the kids are saying these days. “I might not understand everything you do, Riley, but I’m your mother and number-one fan. I’m on Team Sunshine no matter what.”
I give Mom a hug, and she pats me on the back. Noah smiles at me, having watched the whole video-making moment.
He holds up two glasses of wine as Mom and I separate. “Oh, thanks, Noah,” Mom says as she takes hers. “Let me help you get some of those.”
Between the three of us, we carry the wine to the living room, handing them out to Arielle, River, and Natalie.
“How’s everything going with the latest version after the hacker issue?” Natalie asks River. She’s obviously well-informed on everything Noah’s up to at work, which makes my heart happy. There’s a difference between a mama’s boy and a boy who loves his mama. Noah is obviously the latter.
“Good, thanks to that guy.” He points to Noah. “Not because he fixed it, of course, but because he went in to oversee the real brains behind the operation. The coders.”
Noah chuckles at the jab. “Well, we know you’re not the brains.”
“No, I’m the pretty one,” River taunts, striking a model pose that admittedly does look GQ-sharp. Not that I’d tell him that.
“Hey, guys, speaking of Blind Date . . .” I say, interrupting their friendly banter.
Noah and I agreed that the initial news should come from me. It might be a bit gender-biased, but also, I’ve got the reputation for being the happy one. This is happy news, and I want people to share in the excitement and joy Noah and I are feeling.
“I asked you all here to make an announcement,” I tell the group, and from his spot River looks surprised. Usually, when I have something to say, he’s already been given a spoiler alert. “Uhm, as you all know, River and Noah have recently launched a new app, BlindDate. And, well . . . I signed up. And . . . I met this wonderful guy. Like, the computer or AI or whatever is in the app practically superglued us together, we were so close.”
Mom’s jaw drops open, her hands below her chin. Her excitement is palpable.
“Did you meet this guy already?” River asks. “Because I can probably do some background check stuff based on what he put on his profile. If we can’t, the coders can. Right, Noah?”
I take a step forward, getting between River and Noah. “I already met him. I’m already dating him. I already care about him . . . a lot.”
Noah puts a supportive hand on my shoulder, and I lay mine over his. It’s intimate, and the meaning is totally obvious.
All sound stops.
Arielle looks smug since she already knows and is here for moral support and the show. Mom and Natalie both look shocked in a good way, but River . . .
River stands from the couch, slamming his wine glass to the table. “What the fuck?” Noah and I stand resolute, a united front prepared for this. I think.
Well, we have a plan, at least.
For River to be fine. Or shocked. Or angry. Or, in my rainbows-and-sunshine hopes and dreams, for him to be super happy for us. Noah had laughed at that one, saying he hoped I was right, but knew I was gonna be wrong.
It seems Noah was correct because River growls at Noah, “Outside. Now.” Noah gives me a reassuring nod, but I step between them.
“Do not disturb my neighbors with your testosterone-fueled phallometrics!”
River and Noah both turn to me with wide eyes, their argument forgotten for a thin moment while they try to translate my words. I guess they’re too amped up for four syllables at a time.
Arielle helps them out, stage-whispering, “She means dick measuring contest. But she’s too polite to say that in front of Rachel.”
“How about we talk somewhere more private, then?” Noah tells River, the picture of calm, cool, and collected as he gestures down the hall to my bedroom.
They close the door behind them, and the four of us look at each other for a hot second before speed-tiptoeing down the hall to press our ears to the door. It might not be polite, but none of us are judging the others because we all want to know how this conversation is going to go.