Page 35 of Playing the Backbeat

I snatch my phone from Carissa, and yup, there’s my face smiling back at me.

“Isn’t that interesting,” Abby says, leaning back onto her palms, smiling up at me as I walk to the kitchen table.

“Isn’twhatinteresting?” Bec asks. This girl could win an Oscar for the performance she’s putting on.

“It seems our sweet Deanna, or her identical twin, matched with Dylan’s dating profile,” Abby explains.

Okay, Abby and Bec will have to split the Oscar.

“That does seem strange,” Carissa interjects.

“I wonder what would happen if I just…” Ellie says, pretending to swipe right.

“There is no world in which Dylan and I ever match up on a dating site. You do realize we live in the same apartment. If we were a good match, there’d be signs.”

The girls all exchange a look.

“What?” I swirl my finger around between them. “What the fuck is that look for?”

“I mean, it’s not like you two argue,” Bec adds.

“If anything, the two of you being together has only made you…stronger.” Ellie shivers.

“Yeah, the sass, confidence, and charisma have basically joined forces into one…dare I say, power couple?” Abby asks.

“I think the fuck not.” I grab a bag of chips, ripping them open and shoving a handful into my mouth.

“So how do you explain this?” Carissa adds, gesturing to my phone, where sure as fuck, there is my goddamn face, still staring back at me.

My dating profile matched with Dylan’s.

“This is what happens when you make a dating profile for someone else. We clearly both got it wrong. The answers are obviously skewed. This would never happen if we made our own profiles.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Dee,” Ellie says.

“I still think the lawyer is a good investment for the group,” I say through another mouthful of chips.

Bec rolls her eyes. “Yeah, because Dylan is looking at career credentials. You know as well as I do, he needs someone who challenges him.”

“Who better than a lawyer?” I ask.

“Gee, I don’t know, maybe the hellcat he shares an apartment with,” Bec mutters.

“Oooo, hellcat.” I shake my finger at Bec. “I like it. I have Dylan convinced we have a cat. That’d be the perfect name for it.” I tap my temple a few times, trying to lock it into my memory so I can use it the next time I want to torture Dylan with this lie. “I think I’ll start calling that out randomly.”

“Wait. Rewind. You have Dylan convinced you have a cat?” Carissa asks.

I smirk. “He bought Fancy Feast the other day. I saw him set it outside of his bedroom door before he went to sleep, and sawhim check it in the morning to see if she ate any during the night.”

“She? As in the imaginary cat,” Bec clarifies.

“Hellcat. Precisely. Thank you for the name.”

“You’re something else,” Abby adds.

“Thank you.” I blow her a kiss. “Now, since I’m hosting next month, who would be willing to bring a cat? Bec, Abby, can we have a visitor from New Hope? Cats…books…they go together, right?”

The shelter Bec and Abby volunteer at is incredible. The training facility where they work regularly partners with New Hope, helping adorable pets find their forever families.