The Love Hack

Ben

Well, Arty had officially lost it. He had already been teetering on the brink of complete delusion, which would have been painful to watch if it wasn't so comical, but this was downright insane.

"You're serious?" I asked, the annoyance clear in my tone. I searched Arty's amber brown eyes, which were currently gleaming.

"Isn't it genius?" Arty replied, his smile practically reaching his ears.

Genius wasn't the word I would use. Crazy? Absolutely. Typical? Of course.

Despite his alleged disbelief in love, the man had managed to over-romanticize every person he had met. Two seconds of eye contact and I swore he could hear violins and was already planning their engagement.

But that smile Arty was flashing me, his trademark grin whenever he cooked up one of these completely wild plans– that smile always had me agreeing to whatever he was asking, even when I knew better.

Arty's excitement was contagious and dangerous. I wanted to wipe that smile straight off his face, in hopes it would restore my common sense.

I shook my head. "All this for a guy looks like laundry day just never happened?" I asked. "You're going to risk your first freelance job for that?"

Arty looked mostly unfazed, the silly smile still plastered on his face as he stared off into a far away world.

"He doesn't smell like that... more like espresso with a hint of mystery," he said dreamily.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night," I muttered, turning my attention back to my cutting board.

But as I turned away, a pang of jealousy twisted in my gut. I couldn't help but think about how much Arty was investing in someone he barely knew. Someone who probably didn't even appreciate him half as much as I did.

I hated that it bothered me—that I couldn't just be happy for him—but it did.

"You know, instead of turning this into some soap-opera plot, you could just ask him out like a normal person," I suggested, ignoring the way it made my heart tighten in my chest.

"You didn't seem to have a problem with the hacking when it benefitted you," Arty countered, the smile having fallen from his face. The tone of the room instantly shifted.

"That was different," I stated, firmly, though I felt the embarrassment coursing through my body and my cheeks starting to flush. I turned away, busying myself looking for my next ingredient in the fridge.

"Was it? It gave you a chance," Arty pressed, his tone challenging me.

I winced. I didn't want to take that trip down memory lane. Especially not with the chance that Jonah was eavesdropping on us from his bedroom.

This was exactly why I didn't accept help from anyone. There were always strings attached.

I shut the fridge door harder than necessary, the sound echoing in the small kitchen. Arty just fixed his eyes on me, expectantly.

"Look," I started, keeping my voice low, "I appreciate what you did for me, you know that. But now what? I just have to stand idly by and watch you potentially throw your career down the drain to enact some crazy romantic fantasy?"

Arty tilted his head, as if registering my words. A stray piece of black hair fell into his eyes, and I had an urge to push it back into place. He had this innocent, hopeful look on his face that had my resolve melting away. And I fell for it.

Every. Single. Time.

"I didn't ask you for any details," Arty said, soft and sincere. "I just did it. No questions asked."