Page 26 of All In

“You sound like a person who has feelings.”

“I have several feelings,” I admit. “It’s concerning. I went into today fully expecting to dodge a creep and watch some panels and instead I think I might have met a person I genuinely like. As in really like. As in—” I stop, hearing how that sounds out loud, and laugh at myself. “As in this is insane, right? I’ve known him for nine hours.”

“Time is a construct,” Clover says, with the breezy confidence of someone who has never once let a reasonable timeline stop her from feeling things. “What else? Tell me everything. Don’t skip anything, I will know if you skip something, I have a sixth sense for it.”

So I tell her. The panel, the way his laugh made me feeling almost giddy. The ease of being with him. Eric watching from the side aisle, and glaring as if I’d legitimately wronged him.

The “meal between conspirators” bit, which Clover audibly cackles at. The walk back, slow and unhurried, both of us clearly stalling.

“And then,” I say, building up to it, “he asked if he could kiss me goodnight. Like, asked. Out loud. ‘Can I kiss you goodnight, properly, like a person with manners.’”

Clover puts a hand over her heart, mock-swooning so hard she nearly knocks over her wine. “Stop. Stop it right now. I might actually combust.”

“It gets worse.”

“Worse how. Worse good or worse bad?”

“Worse devastating.” I close my eyes, replaying it. “He said if you’d told him this morning he was going to meet someone today, and asked him to imagine the best version of that person, that he wouldn’t have been able to imagine me. That I exceeded any and all of his expectations.” I shake my head. “He said it much better than that, but that was the gist.”

There’s a beat of total silence on the other end, and when I open my eyes, Clover is staring at the screen with an expression somewhere between delight and genuine shock.

“He said that,” she says slowly, “after knowing you for nine hours.”

“I know.”

“Juniper, that’s not a line. Men don’t come up with things that specific on the fly. That’s a man who has been quietly composing sentences about you in his head since approximately three in the afternoon.”

I silently gasp. “That’s what I’d hoped. But truly, could it be that easy? Like I just kissed a random man and he turns out to be my person? I’m not that lucky. No one is that lucky.”

“Presumably some people are. Only time will tell though. So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Breakfast. Early. Then probably the rest of the con together, if today’s any indication.” I hesitate. “Is that—is this too fast? Tell me honestly. You’re the only person whose opinion I actually trust on this.”

Clover’s whole demeanor shifts then, the teasing easing back, something steadier and more careful taking its place

“Can I be serious for one second?”

“Always.”

“I’m happy for you. Genuinely. You sound like yourself in a way I haven’t heard in a while.” She pauses, picks her words with visible care. “I do want you to keep one eye open, though. Not because I think Leo’s bad news. From everything you’ve told me, he sounds like the opposite. But you had a real scare today. Eric said something genuinely gross to you, and you’re riding the adrenaline of someone swooping in right after that, and sometimes that combination makes things feel more certain than they actually are yet.”

I consider that, because it’s fair, and because Clover has never once said something like this to me out of anything but love.

“I hear you,” I say. “And I promise I’m not ignoring that. But Clover, it didn’t feel like adrenaline by the time we were at dinner. It felt like just... him and me. Eric wasn’t even in the room anymore, mentally. I wasn’t thinking about being rescued. I was just thinking about how much I liked talking to him. And everything felt so effortless and easy. The conversation flowed naturally and we shared and flirted.” I sigh.

Something in Clover’s face softens completely. “Okay. Good. That’s the answer I wanted.”

“You were testing me?”

“A little. Sue me, I’m a protective older sister, it’s in the job description.” She picks her wine back up, the teasing creeping back into her voice. “Also, for the record, if this turns into something real, I expect full credit. I am the one who told you to kiss a hot stranger. This is my victory as much as yours.”

“You get zero credit. You gave that advice as a joke.”

“The best advice often starts as a joke. That’s just science.”

“That’s not science. And you literally just made that up.”

She grins. “Go to sleep. You have a not-date breakfast to get to.”