“So maybe you got back together.”

Lies on top of lies. “It wouldn’t work,” I say. “You know how I get in relationships. How much of a nightmare would it be if I somehow fell for him, and he didn’t feel the same way, and we were stuck still hosting the show together?”

“Okay, okay. You’re right,” she says, but in this way that sounds like she knows I won’t listen to anyone but myself about this. And she’s not wrong, but I’m not wrong, either. Dating Dominic Yun would be a catastrophe. Even the hypothetical is enough to turn my stomach inside out.

Ameena’s staring at my painting. “Can you at least turn that thing away from me?”

* * *

—

I decide to wear my hair down the next day. Show day.

I wake up early, by which I mean I had a Dominic nightmare around three a.m. and couldn’t fall back asleep. I have plenty of time to shower, let my hair air-dry, and straighten my bangs.

And it doesn’t look bad at all.

Even though I want to drag my chair away from his before we start recording, I sit down next to him the way I do every Thursday, fold my hands primly on the table in front of me. If he notices the lack of ponytail, he’s not giving anything away. I shouldn’t be disappointed.

For this episode, our fifth, it was Ruthie’s idea for Dominic to quiz me on dating slang.

“Breadcrumbing,” he says, glancing up from his notes and lifting his eyebrows at me. A challenge. It’s the most personality he’s shown me all week, and I try to ignore the shiver it sends down my spine.

“That one’s obvious,” I say. “It’s when you’re dating a cannibal who lives in the woods. In a gingerbread house.”

Dominic cues Jason to play a buzzer sound effect.

“Submarining.”

“When you and your partner watch Yellow Submarine to get in the mood. Also known as ‘Beatles and chill.’”

“Cushioning.”

“Oh, that’s when you bring a cushion with you on every date so your partner doesn’t have to sit on any hard surfaces.”

Dominic is laughing now, a hand clasped over his mouth. I’m trying very hard not to look at his hands, though, since I can’t seem to do it without thinking about what they did in my imagination last night. Which is something I’ve shoved firmly to the back of my mind, along with Ameena’s final interview. Gotta love compartmentalization.

“Let’s try something new,” I say, moving on to the next bullet point on our rundown. Maybe one day, I’ll barely glance at it, like Paloma used to do, but five episodes in, and while I’m okay going off script sometimes, it’s still the best kind of security blanket. “If you think you can come up with the best definition of one of the slang words we tweeted out before the show, call us at 1-888-883-KPPR. We’ll pick our favorites at the end of the show. You can also tweet them out using the hashtag ExTalkSlang.”

Our first caller is Mindy in Pioneer Square. “Okay, so, roaching,” she says. “It’s when someone tries to create a relationship out of the situation where they’re sleeping on your couch that you graciously offered to them when their apartment became infested with cockroaches.”

“That sounds like maybe something you’ve had firsthand experience with?” I say.

Mindy groans. “It was the worst. I didn’t want to send him back to his disgusting apartment, and I thought he might have feelings for me, but I figured, I’ll just do this nice thing, I work long hours, we’ll barely see each other. Well, imagine my surprise when I got home from work to find him in the bathtub surrounded by very strategically placed rose petals.”

“Roaching at its finest,” I say with a shudder.

“Dominic, reassure me,” Mindy says. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

“Definitely not. I’d use lavender.”

My mouth goes dry. I chance a look over at him, but he’s staring straight ahead, stoic as usual. The bath I told him about. You smell good. Is he messing with me?

“Stop,” Mindy says with a laugh. “I love you both so much. I would not be able to do this with any of my exes. And Dominic . . . you seem like one of the good ones. I don’t know if you’re single . . .” She says it suggestively, and I really don’t like what happens in my chest as a result.

“Sorry, Mindy,” he says, “I’m interested in someone.”

That hits me in a weird place. He didn’t mention it Monday when there was clearly an opportunity for it. Or maybe it’s new. I should be happy for him, but instead I feel strangely hollow. Maybe that’s why he wanted to forget the kiss: because he was trying to start something with someone else.

The lavender had to be coincidental. Now I’m sure of it.

“I can’t say I’m not secretly hoping you’ll find a way to make it work with Shay,” Mindy says, “but whatever happens, I’m happy for both of you.”

“Thanks for calling, Mindy,” I say, aware I sound a little brusque, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

Dominic hits the button for the next caller. “Now we have John calling from South Lake Union,” he says.

“Yeah, hi,” says a curt male voice. Midthirties or forties, if I had to guess. “I was listening to you in the car and had to pull over and call.”