Match Me by Liz Appel

And I was never disappointed.
    “What are you doing here?” I asked.
    He smiled. “A date.”
    For some reason, my heart plummeted. “Oh. With Meg?” I tried not to scowl as I pictured the cute chef from Champs.
    “Nah, someone else.”
    Please don’t let it be Jenna, I thought. The last thing I needed was to see her smug face and hear her snide comments as I waded through my first phase-two recovery date.
    I worked up the nerve to ask. “Jenna?”
    He wrinkled his nose. “Good God, no. Give me a little credit.”
    “You were out with her the other night,” I reminded him.
    “I go out with a lot of people,” he said. “And she asked me. I was pretty sure I knew what I was getting there, but I needed to make sure for myself. I was right.”
    A little sigh escaped me. He really was a nice guy. A good human, as Jill put it.
    “Oh, OK.” I smiled. “Well, it was good seeing you.”
    “You’re just dismissing me?” he said, more amused than annoyed.
    “Well, I don't want to keep you. You know, from your date.” 
    I also knew Rule #1 for blind dates: don’t pass the time waiting for your blind date with a really nice-looking guy who is not your date.
    He looked around. “Hmmm. Maybe,” he said. “But don’t you want to know who I’m here with tonight?”
    My brow furrowed. No, I really didn’t want to know. Because I figured it might be someone else I didn’t approve of for him. But he clearly wanted me to ask.
    “Uh, sure. Who?”
    He smiled. “You.”

TWENTY-THREE
     
     
    “Me?” I’m pretty sure my voice squeaked.
    He slid into the seat next to me. “Yes. You.”
    Had he followed me down? Did he think I was just driving to Minneapolis for an evening out by myself? That had to be it. Perfect Paul to the rescue, always at the ready to take care of me.
    I panicked. “You can’t be. I mean, it would be fun to have dinner with you but I'm actually meeting someone.”
    He looked around. “Oh. Who?”
    I hesitated. “Um, I don’t really know.”
    “What?”
    “It’s sort of a date,” I said lamely. “A blind date.”
    He grinned. “Oh, really? Another stellar specimen from Match Me?”
    I’d told him about the disastrous dates in the Dairy Queen parking lot. After I’d told him about Chase’s proposition.
    “No. Someone Jill set me up with.”
    He played with the silverware that was on the table. “A friend of hers, then?”
    I shrugged. “I don’t really know. I don’t know much of anything about him.”
    Except that he was going to be there any minute. And I was sitting at a table with another guy, who under any other circumstance, I would’ve chosen to sit with.
    “I’m surprised you agreed to it,” he said. “You know, considering your recent track record.”
    “Well, Jill can be pretty persuasive.” I smiled. “And she did say he would be perfect for me.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Yeah. I trust her judgment. I think.”
    He picked up the knife and twirled it between his fingers.
    “So,” I said. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way. But you really need to go. I don’t want to be rude to whoever this guy is.”
    He nodded. “OK. But I have a feeling Jill is going to be a little disappointed.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I’m not perfect.”
    “What?”
    He hesitated. “The person she set you up with is me.”
    Color flooded my cheeks as I processed what he’d just said. What he’d been trying to tell me for the last ten minutes.
    “You?” I squeaked again.
    Paul nodded again. “Uh-huh.”
    “But…” I stammered. “But why?”
    A waitress showed up, some chick with pink hair and a barbell through her lip, and handed us menus.
    “What do you mean why?”
    I looked at the menu but the words blurred together. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Or of what was happening with Paul.
    “I mean, why you?” I shook my head. “You don’t like me. You feel sorry for me.”
    “And you are utterly clueless.”
    “What?”
    Paul shifted in his seat, moving