[Dating by Design 02.0] Statistically Improbable

by Jennifer Peel

  Kate’s nod had a great deal of empathy in it.

  “You see, she may be falling for a man who is definitely not the kind of man a woman like her should even think about being involved with, and to top it off, she works with him.” I cringed and squinted my eyes.

  Her eyes illuminated with understanding. “I see.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I wondered if there was something going on between your friend and, shall we say, Mr. G?”

  “There isn’t because there can’t be. That would be ridiculous, I would be . . . I mean she would be foolish to think there could be.”

  “It’s smart of her to recognize that.”

  “So why does she feel this way?”

  “I have just the thing for you.” She grabbed her bag and rummaged through it. She pulled out a small book that looked like it had been read dozens of times and handed it to me.

  “The Science Behind Why Good Girls Love Bad Boys.” I met her eyes.

  “Read it; it’s life changing.”

  “Do you really think that Mr. G. is a narcissist?”

  She thought for a moment. “No. He does have tendencies, especially how he carefully controls his emotions. But just because someone is conceited doesn’t mean they are a narcissist.”

  “Do you believe people can change?”

  “Professionally speaking, yes. My job would be pointless if I didn’t believe that, but be careful with that line of thinking. You can’t change anyone. Change comes from within.”

  I knew that. I really did.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I started reading the book Kate gave me. It was insightful, but I didn’t know if everything pertained to my situation. For instance, I wasn’t always ovulating, which apparently makes bad boys temporarily more attractive. I was attracted to Mr. G twenty-four-seven. And I wasn’t really sure I had a need to be with someone reckless and exciting. I wasn’t sure Zander was even reckless. He was actually very precise and almost cautious in how he approached life. Take his car and office for instance—they were both spotless, everything was in order. But there were some studies done for the book that suggested that the bad boy traits were such a turn on because of evolution. We wanted our offspring to have evolutionary advantages, and these studies were saying men with these traits were more successful and made more money.

  I guess I could blame it on evolution. I was going with that.

  I hadn’t gotten to the part on how to overcome these feelings I was having. And it didn’t help when I got texts like this . . .

  You’re skipping church on Sunday because I scored seats for the Falcons and Broncos game.

  I thought about declining for at least five minutes, but I had never been to a live game, and well, I would be there with Zander. You know, the guy who helped me get an A on my test and the one who had me bring him my textbook. He inserted specialized notes in each chapter to clarify where needed. He wanted real kisses for the effort, which wasn’t happening. But I did want to kiss him for it.

  So that’s how I found myself at the Georgia Dome Sunday afternoon sitting next to Zander in seats on the fifty-yard line. I was wearing a Broncos jersey and he wore a Falcons t-shirt. I got a lot of sinister stares, but my guys were playing and I was proud to wear orange and blue.

  “You might want to put on your jacket, darlin’.” Zander also noticed the dirty looks.

  “No way. Go Broncos!” That cheer didn’t earn me any brownie points with the Falcons fans I was surrounded by.

  Zander put his arm around me. “I think you’re going to need some protection.”

  “I can hold my own.”

  “I know that about you.”

  I returned his gaze. “You know, sometimes I can’t figure you out.”

  “Are you trying to?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Any conclusions?”

  “Only that there’s more to you than you let on.”

  He leaned in. “The same could be said for you.”

  The temptation to close the gap swelled within me, but I fought against evolution. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Take my word for it.” He sat back, removed his arm, and went back to himself. “I shouldn’t act like I know you.”

  “Fine by me. I’ll be over here enjoying myself watching my Broncos kick the trash out of your so-called team.”

  The guy sitting next to me—who reeked of stale beer—thought that was his invitation. He put his arm around me, stunning me. “Don’t worry, honey, I don’t care which team you’re rooting for. I’d be happy to—”

  He didn’t get to finish his thought. Zander forcibly removed his arm. “Keep your hands and your eyes to yourself.”

  “Sorry, buddy, just having a little fun.”

  Zander ignored him and stood up. “Switch places with me.”

  Without a word, I did as he asked. I had never seen fury in his eyes before.

  Zander took my seat and gave the guy next to him one more hard stare before turning back to me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Are you?”

  “I am now.” He relaxed in my old seat.

  I leaned into him. “What kind of people come on to you when you are potentially with someone else?” I gave him my best smile. “He and Yolanda would be perfect for each other.”

  He didn’t acknowledge me other than to smirk.

  I stood and shouted as my Broncos rushed onto the field. “Let’s go, Orange Crush!”

  No one, except maybe Zander, appreciated my enthusiasm. I was a one-woman cheering machine for my team. And I was a wreck the first half. My team wasn’t playing all that well. There were fumbles and interceptions. I was yelling at the refs for bad calls—all to the dirty looks of my fellow spectators. By halftime I was exhausted and threw myself down in my chair. I sighed. The score was fourteen to three. My team was losing.

  Zander smiled smugly at me. “I told you so.”

  “Hey, there is still the second half.”

  He reached up and tucked some hair behind my ear. I liked it when he did that. “Do you want some hot chocolate?”

  “Yes, with whipped cream.” Though the dome was climate controlled and I wore a long-sleeved shirt under my jersey, it was a tad nippy.

  “I’ll be right back.” He used his eyes to tell the man next to him to not even think about it. You would almost think he was jealous.

  I pulled out my phone while I waited for Zander to return. I had several text messages from my brothers.

  You’re such a liar.

  Who is the guy you’re with at the game?

  You were just on the screen.

  How did you score tickets?

  Oh crap. What were the odds? Maybe not that bad, considering I was the only person anywhere near me who was crazy enough to wear a Broncos jersey to the game. Nothing to see here. We work together and he came into the tickets and invited me because he knows I like the Broncos. That was true, except I had a hunch he paid a lot for the tickets. I’d offered to pay for mine, but he’d refused.

  You looked like more than friends when you hugged him when the Broncos scored.

  That was a nice moment. He was a great hugger. All friendly. Don’t worry.

  He looks like a city slicker. What kind of car does he drive?

  These boys. Don’t worry about it. We’re not dating.

  Looks like we need to plan a trip to Georgia.

  You’re all talk.

  Tell that boy to keep his hands away from your nether regions the next time you hug him.

  Goodbye. I slid my phone back in my pocket. I could only imagine the conversations going on back home. I wondered what my dad thought. He never would say, but I knew he would think something.

  Zander returned with a smile and my hot chocolate.

  “Thank you. Did you know we’re famous?”

  He took his seat next to me. “What for?”

  “My brothers texted me to say they saw me on TV. I guess wearing a Broncos jersey is eye catching
to whoever’s broadcasting the game.”

  He took a sip of his coffee. “It might be more than your clothes.”

  “Like what?”

  He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “You’re kind of gorgeous.”

  My insides fluttered. “Kind of?”

  He laughed low in my ear.

  He was going to do me in. I was trying to remember it was only evolution and some primal need that I couldn’t control telling me that he would give my children amazing genes. But Kate also mentioned something about proximity. We became more attracted to those we spent a lot of time with. I blamed work. I sat up to put a little distance between us. “I hope nobody at work saw us.”

  “Why?”

  “You saw how Cara and Eva were in the meeting on Friday. I have a feeling Eva may like you and she doesn’t like it when you and I agree.”

  “She can’t help herself.”

  “There are some of us who are impervious to your charm.”

  “You just admitted I have charm.”

  I nudged him with my shoulder. “Never mind.”

  “I told you not to worry about them.”

  “You didn’t tell them that we pretended to date a couple of times, did you?”

  His smirk was out in full force. “We more than dated. You admitted you were in love with me.”

  I whipped around in my seat. “I did no such thing.”

  “Yes, ma’am, you did. Ask Leann.”

  “That was all for show and you know it.”

  “Kenz never said anything like that when we would go out.”

  “Maybe I should take a page from her book and call you a butthead.”

  He laughed. “You sound just like her.”

  I faced forward and ignored him. My cheeks burned red from embarrassment.

  “Your dirty secret is safe with me.”

  I tried not to smile. I choked on my next words, but maybe it would be for the best. It would help me to get over him and the tension in the office would die down. “Maybe you should ask Eva to be your pretend girlfriend.”

  “No.”

  I turned toward him to see the facial expression that came with the curt tone. “Why?”

  He stretched out his neck from side to side. “Eva and Cara lack certain qualities.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’ll leave that for you to figure out.”

  That gave me something to chew on besides how terrible my team was playing during the second half. No matter how much I yelled and jumped up and down or smack talked with the Falcons fans around me, it did no good. My guys let me down. Twenty-three to sixteen.

  We walked toward the train that would take us back to Zander’s car. Our arms touched and my hand ached for him to hold it.

  “Thank you for taking me to the game.”

  “Thanks for giving me a show.”

  “I’m passionate about my team.”

  “I like that about you.”

  “Anything else?” I looked up into his beautiful eyes.

  “You’ll have to figure that out too.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  We were three days away from Thanksgiving, twenty-seven days from the bridal shower, thirty-four from Christmas, and forty days until the wedding. I was busier than ever between work, school, wedding shower planning, Christmas shopping, baking, and did I mention Zander?

  I had become Zander’s fill-in friend. Kenadie and Jason were wrapped up in their own world and with the wedding, so I found myself playing the part of best friend instead of girlfriend. Several evenings a week he came to my apartment, after we each went on our client dates. He was “helping” me research Nicholas Wells, which meant we were binge watching On the Edge between doing my homework, which Zander was also helping me with. More and more I was convinced he picked the wrong career, but he was good at what he did.

  I should clarify, I binge watched the crime drama series while Zander made fun of me.

  “Could this guy act any more brooding?”

  I smiled over at him on my couch. He had his tablet in his lap, pretending to work, but I think he was as invested as me in the show. “I think it’s kind of sexy.”

  “Really? He hardly says two words a show.”

  “I think you’re jealous he can land women without saying a word.”

  “You think I can’t?”

  “I didn’t say that.” I turned back to watch Talon Fox, aka Nicholas Wells, once again refuse to admit any feelings for his partner, Samantha, who he really belonged with. “Why doesn’t he just tell her that he loves her?”

  “Then they couldn’t drag the show on for five more seasons.”

  “He’s being an idiot.”

  “It’s not real.”

  “Let me enjoy this.”

  “Are you attracted to this guy?”

  I turned back to face the man I was really attracted to. “Um, yeah. Look at him. Talk about hot? He qualifies.” His sex appeal jumped off the screen. I wanted to run my fingers through his perfect brown hair and gaze into his sea blue eyes. That got me to thinking. “I know you can’t say exactly what’s going down, but do you think there’s a chance I might get to meet him?”

  “He’s old enough to be your dad.”

  “He’s forty and barely that, he just celebrated his birthday last month.”

  Zander went back to paying attention to his tablet and some charts he had pulled up. “You don’t want someone like him.”

  I had read enough about the divorced, single dad and ladies’ man actor to know that was true, but I was curious to know why Zander thought that was the case. “I don’t know. I’ve heard older men make good partners.” I scratched Jasper, who sat on my lap.

  Zander didn’t fall for the bait, instead he eyed my cat. “Is your cat deformed or something?”

  “No.” I held Jasper up and looked into his cute face. “Don’t listen to him.”

  “Why are his legs so short?”

  “He’s a munchkin breed.”

  Zander laughed. “That’s a thing?”

  I laid Jasper back on my lap and ignored Zander. Talon and Samantha were having a moment. He’d just rescued her from an escaped convict. He was holding her and kissing her head. She was clinging to him in her torn dress. “Kiss her,” I said aloud. “Don’t laugh.” I smacked Zander with a throw pillow.

  He laughed anyway.

  For a second, it looked like the kiss was going to happen, but in the end, Talon kissed her forehead. “Idiot.” I turned off the TV.

  “That wasn’t as fun as watching you watch sports, but it was a close second.”

  “I’m glad I can be your entertainment. Now you get to help me.”

  He arched his eyebrow. “Do what?”

  I set Jasper down so I could stand up. “We’re going to make a popcorn and cranberry garland.”

  “What? Is this Little House on the Prairie?”

  “It’s a tradition, and I’m going to put my tree up this weekend.” I headed to the kitchen to grab the popcorn I had let dry for the last couple of days and the cranberries I washed and set out before Zander showed up. “Do you want something to drink?” I yelled from the kitchen.

  “I’ll come get it.”

  I met his eyes from across the breakfast bar; he was already standing up. “I don’t mind.”

  “I know, but I do.” He was walking my way.

  I stepped out of his way so he could get to the refrigerator. “Why does it bother you?”

  He seemed agitated as he opened the fridge and peered in.

  I rested my hand on his back, unsure about his sudden change in mood. “Tell me.” I felt him take in a breath and let it out.

  “I hated that my dad expected my mom to wait on him hand and foot.”

  My hand trailed down his back. Touching him ignited feelings that needed to be doused, but they burned inside of me. “I know you don’t expect me to, that’s why I want to.”

  He grabbed a bottle of fruit infused water before standing up
and facing me. With his free hand, he reached out to touch me, but didn’t quite make it. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Make garland.”

  “Only with you. Don’t tell anyone else. I don’t want my reputation to be ruined . . . again.”

  I turned from him and grabbed the supplies. “I did you a favor. I bet Leann hasn’t come calling anymore.”

  “No, but thank you for all the vacant stares I get now.” He took the bowl of popcorn out of my hands and carried it to the living room for me.

  I grabbed all the other supplies. “I thought you told them we broke up.”

  “I’m still waiting for the right time.”

  I tried not to smile as I walked toward him.

  “I may have to move, thanks to you.”

  “You’ll be fine.” I sat next to him and got my supplies situated.

  He shook his head at the materials on the coffee table. “Why do you do this?”

  I grabbed a needle and some fishing line. “Because my mom said anyone could buy decorations and slap them on a tree, but Christmas is about love and so love should go into making each decoration and ornament. She would make my brother and I each an ornament every year. I have mine with me and I try to add one of my own every year.”

  He arched his eyebrow. “Really, Meg. You surprise me more and more.”

  I handed him a threaded needle. “I’m glad. Three pieces of popcorn for every one cranberry. Go.”

  He smirked and took the needle from me.

  “Does your family have any traditions?”

  “Not any worth mentioning.”

  I didn’t press. “Will you see your family for Christmas?” I knew he was going to Mrs. Marshall’s for Thanksgiving. We were driving over together.

  “Yeah.” He grabbed some popcorn. “My parents will be back from visiting my brother and his family by then. They’re staying with me until the wedding’s over.”

  “So, your parents are allowed in your apartment?”

  “It’s not my first choice.”

  I was stringing my own needle. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For whatever it is that didn’t go right or made you unhappy.”