Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
When he didn’t respond, or even snort, I glanced in his direction. “No one prints anymore,” I mumble to myself. “But people always need to dry their hair and it’s convenient.” I looked him up and down, my gaze rested on his messy mop of hair. “Most people use hair dryers at least, I imagine you’d choose the printer every time.”
He flipped me off and walked over anyway, muttering about paper jams and cursed ink gods, and came back with a small stack of freshly printed pages. Without ceremony, he started taping them beneath the whiteboard like a full-fledged wall from Dateline.
“You’re too good at that.” I sighed. “Should I be concerned?”
He ignored me. “Do you want me to read them out loud,” he deadpanned, “or does that make it more real?”
I swallowed. “It makes it more real, but it’s best to just yank the band-aid off, right?”
He tapped his chin then reached over and handed me the bag of chocolate-covered almonds. He followed that by cracking open a nearby Monster like we were settling in for a horror movie and not my personal romantic exorcism.
“Ex number one,” Ezra pointed at the first sheet. “I like to call him The Felon.”
“Ezra—”
“—We can’t technically prove he was there during the robbery,” Ezra clarified helpfully.
I threw my hands. “Right! Thank you.”
He winced. “But we can prove he used your Netflix account to stream Prison Break at 3AM from the scene.”
I squinted. “That’s still circumstantial.”
He didn’t dignify that with a response.
Instead, he slapped up the next photo. “Ex number two: The Himbo.”
“I thought we weren’t calling him that anymore.” I chewed my fingernail.
Ezra shrugged. “When you told him your grandma died he replied with a, ‘That’s hot.’”
I groaned and shoved more almonds into my mouth.
“Ex number three: The Motivator. He now runs an online community for men looking to ‘unlock their inner beast’ by quitting deodorant and punching trees.”
“I liked his ambition,” I mumbled. “At least he had purpose.”
Ezra goes quiet and then. “You Venmo’d him five hundred dollars so he could ‘launch his brand.’ He used it to buy a gimbal and film himself screaming shirtless in a Whole Foods parking lot.”
“You said you weren’t going to judge!” Why was I raising my voice? He was helping. Helping!
“Am I judging? I feel like I’m just presenting facts.” He taped the paper to the whiteboard and continued by slapping up another page.
I felt that slap reverberate through the apartment.
“Ex number four: The Pyramid Schemer.”
I let out a dreamy sigh. “He was at least a really good kisser.”
His eyes narrowed or at least I think they did with the way his nose scrunched up. “He also tried to get you to invest in a ‘supplement empire.’ Which brings us to—”
We both turned to look behind me at the stack of unused protein powder tubs labeled Herculean: Power Starts with You.
“You don’t even have a gym membership,” Ezra said flatly.
Did good kisser mean nothing to him? “I was going to try lifting.”
His eyebrows raised. “Lifting what? Your dignity?”
I threw an almond at his head. He dodged to the side completely unfazed.
“And finally...” He paused, expression unreadable. “Ex number five. Your little AI boyfriend.”
He full on grinned, it was mocking, and I refused to let out the little gasp that followed when I remembered how pretty his smile was. “What’s his name again?”
I hesitated.
“Vex,” I whispered into my hand.
Ezra blinked. “Wait. You really named him?”
I snatched the Monster from his hands and drank it like holy water. “He’s the perfect composite. Everything I ever wanted. Loyal. Smart. Hot but doesn’t know it. I made him up in the middle of a breakdown, and honestly? I regret nothing.”
Ezra burst out laughing and waved the last sheet. “This guy doesn’t exist. He’s barely realistic even on paper.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, straightening up. “They only vote after the dates. And I have plenty of time to either find an actor or fake enough footage to make it believable. The point isn’t whether he’s real—the point is the story; the idea, the illusion that I’m dating an ex again, letting them follow along. The last few updates got me over thirty million views. I’m this close to getting sponsorships, which means this close to proving I can keep the apartment and that I am a successful creative.”
Ezra snorted. “Right. Gotta find that talent in something, because you definitely didn’t inherit your aunt’s ability to paint.” We both glance to the naked mural. “Or your—”
“I know my family’s talented…and that…my gifts are more hidden.”
The silence dropped like a weight between us.
I picked at the corner of the almond bag, voice quieter. “I’m really good at reading people. At making them laugh. At building something out of nothing and making it feel real enough to matter.”
Ezra watched me, I could feel his eyes on me. His voice softened. “You’re really good at starting things.”