The Make Out Artist (Accidentally in Love #3) Read Online Sara Ney

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Accidentally in Love Series by Sara Ney
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 86596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
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Thinks.

Gasps.

“Oh my god, I have an idea. I should call Kate and see if she can railroad him into going. He never tells her no. Then he’ll invite you along to keep women away from him, but PLOT TWIST, we plop his ass in a chair and force him to sit through the dates.”

“Who even are you?” I whisper, stunned and shook and proud to be her roommate. “You’re a genius.”

“Let’s see what he’s like when he’s across the table from you tonight.”

A nervous flutter in my stomach has me covering it with my hand.

Eli: Molly, do you read me? Over.

Me: Go for Molly

Eli: Houston, we have a problem…

Me: Wait. Houston or Molly???

Eli: Ha ha, you’re cute.

Me: Okay but seriously, what’s the problem? Are their women banging down your door, dying to get in?

Eli: Worse. My sister, Kate, called me earlier and needs a favor.

Me: A FAVOR?! What is it with you Cohens and needing favors. They lead to no good.

Eli: I know—which is why I need a favor from YOU if you don’t have plans tonight.

Me: First tell me what it is because this sounds a whole lot like you stacking favors.

Eli: Kate—god love her—is single and wants to do a speed dating thing at this bar tonight. Ironically, it’s actually in your neck of the woods.

Me: You don’t say! Such a weird coincidence. Tell me more.

Eli: My sister is begging me to go with her. All her friends are busy, and she doesn’t want to go alone. I can’t imagine why she’d invite me along, considering half the people there will be half my age.

Me: Half your age? Surely you exaggerate.

Eli: The point is, speed dating sounds like its own form of hell on earth and won’t help me win the bet with Penelope.

Me: No, it definitely wouldn’t. Unless you were an asshole during the “dates,” which would ensure you got no matches.

Eli: Have you done it before? You seem to know enough about it.

Me: No—everything I know about speed dating I learned from the movies. My point is, all you have to do is be a dick, and no one will want to see you again.

Eli: Oh. That sounds easy enough. I’m good at being a dick.

Me: Um, you’ve literally not been a dick once since we’ve met. If anything, you’re TOO nice.

Eli: Too nice? Is that still a thing?

Me: It’s not a thing. It’s just an observation. In summary: be a dick, and you won’t need your security blanket tonight, i.e. ME

Eli: You would seriously not go?

Me: I had a hot date with my couch tonight… All those documentaries I want to watch are still calling my name.

Me: Here’s an idea: Tell your sister no. She’ll live.

Eli: She said she signed me up already and paid the $75 fee.

Me: SEVENTY-FIVE DOLLARS? Damn

Eli: Yeah—and she’s broke, so that’s a lot for her.

Me: Well, shit…

Eli: Will you come? I’ll buy you a drink.

Me: Ugh, fine. I’m a sucker for a guy who helps out his little sister…

fourteen

eli

“Hi, can I get your name?” The young woman at the table asks my name, hands poised over a laptop keyboard, ready to enter my digits as soon as I provide them.

Her name tag says Andi.

“Eli. My name is Eli Cohen. I’m waiting for my sister.”

I’m the first to arrive because, as usual, Kate is late.

Late Kate.

Ha!

“Eli, Eli…” Andi’s deft fingers fly over the keys fast, typing in my name and instantly locating me in her database. “Ah. You were one of our last few men to register!” She smiles pleasantly, handing me a name tag and ripping a yellow voucher off a large spool of what looks like game tickets. “Here’s a drink ticket. You get one freebie, and then it’s a cash bar.”

I take both, sticking the name tag to my shirt.

Where the hell is my sister?

“Um. Would you happen to know if Kate Cohen has checked in yet?”

The girl pulls a face, closing the laptop as if I were going to leap across the table and grab it. “I’m sorry, I can’t disclose anyone’s information.”

“Kate is my sister.”

She cocks her head, pleasant smile still plastered on her face. “Aw, you’re speed dating with your sister?”

I force a smile. “It was her idea. I’m here for moral support.”

Her head dips, and she makes a notation on the paper. “Well. If she’s here, we’ll be sure to have you skip each other during the first round.” She chuckles.

“Thanks.”

Walking with my drink ticket, I meander toward the bar, pulling out my phone and frantically texting my little sis.

Me: Where are you? Are you here?

Surprisingly, the place has a decent-sized crowd, larger than I would have expected for a weeknight, but then again, what the hell do I know about modern dating?

My last girlfriend was the same woman I’d dated all through college, and the rest? One-night stands and blind dates.


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