Hannah leans back against the booth, crossing her arms over her pair of amazing boobs. She plucks an imaginary piece of lint off her gray sweater. “You think you’re the only catch at this table? Please.”

JB’s grin is slow and lazy and directed at my roommate’s cleavage. “Are you talking about yourself?”

“Um, no—I’m talking about Abe. I bet he could give you a run for your money if your head wasn’t stuck up your own ass.” Hannah straightens in her seat. “You’re the kind of guy who cockblocks his friends, aren’t you? Even if a girl was into Abe, you’re the douchey friend who swoops in and steals her away to be a dick. Aren’t you?”

I’ve lost count of how many times she’s lobbed out the D word tonight.

“Okay.” I toss my napkin on the table and rise, shoving my chair out in the process. “I think this has gone on long enough.” I have to get my friend out of here before she grabs a butter knife and stabs my date with it. She’s seething, nearly hissing like a feral cat.

She either hates JB or wants to bone him, and I can’t figure out which one it is. Sexual tension rises off both of them like steam from a hot bath, and I have no interest in seeing how this little scene is going to play out.

We’ll be booted from the restaurant first. Once Hannah latches onto an idea, she rolls with it, and right now, she’s homing in on the idea of a verbal altercation with JB.

It’s time to exit stage right.

Snatching my purse, I grab her by the back of the shirt, tugging her up. “We’re going.”

“But I was just getting started.”

“I know. That’s why we’re leaving.” I snag her purse, too, shooting Abe an apologetic look. “Sorry guys.”

“Don’t say sorry guys—don’t apologize to that asshole.” Hannah’s chin tilts up. “She won’t be seeing you again. We don’t like you like that.”

Oh my god.

I hold in my laugh—barely—and catch Abe’s eyes. They’re boring into me, intense. Dark. Troubled, too, his expression almost unreadable.

Why is he looking at me like that?

Is he mad we’re ditching mid-date? I don’t actually consider this ditching, though; it’s more like an emergency evacuation.

Does he seriously expect me to sit here and let my best friend destroy his roommate with a sharp-witted tongue-lashing? Not going to happen.

“You don’t like me like that?” JB, on the other hand, couldn’t look more affronted. He’s clearly shocked. “I don’t like you either, babe.”

Babe?

I snort, mouth open to retort.

Hannah beats me to it. “Skylar is too nice to say this to your face, so I’m going to say it for her: you’re nothing like your conversations on the app. Before, you were charming and smart and funny. In person you’re just…such…an…idiot.”

Okay. That was a bit harsh. I never would have said that…

To his face.

But she isn’t finished. “Maybe if you acted more like your app self, you’d stand a chance with her.”

Can I get an amen?

“Bye.” Hannah’s hands are planted on her hips.

JB laughs. “See ya.”

“We’re going.”

“Bye.”

I literally have to grab her arm so we actually do some leaving instead of embarrassing ourselves further.

“You don’t get to be the last one to say bye. We’re the ones saying b—”

My roommate gets a shove toward the door. “Oh my god, shut up! Stop trying to get the last word in.”

“But he—”

“I’m going to kill you. I really am.” This couldn’t have gone any more terribly unless an actual murder had taken place. Perhaps my hands wrapping around her neck to strangle her.

“Why are you yelling at me?” Hannah has the lady balls to ask as I shove her through the front door, the little hostess fascinated by the spectacle of us.

“I’m not yelling! This isn’t yelling!” I yell once we’re in the parking lot. “Get in the car! Get. In. The. Car!”

Hannah rawrs like a cat.

“I hate when you do that,” I grumble, glaring at her over the roof of my piece-of-shit car, secretly hoping she bangs her forehead on the doorframe (as she so often does) as punishment for being obnoxious.

It doesn’t happen.

She glides in unscathed, perfect hair still perfect. Lipstick completely intact. Skin dewy.

“Well,” she says, buckling herself in. “I think that could have gone better.”

I twist my torso, facing her, mouth falling open. “Are you for real right now? That was a train wreck.”

She yawns. “I did you a favor.”

“How?”

“He’s definitely never going to want to see you again.”

Neither is Abe.

JB: Hey

Me: Uh. Hey?

JB: Don’t be so surprised.

Me: You’re seriously messaging me right now? I would have thought you’d have unmatched me for sure.

JB: Why?

Me: Are you insane? That date was a disaster.

JB: LOL

Me: My roommate’s face is still blue from the outrage.