Miss Matched [COMPLETED]

37. Simon

When we're outside the multi-story GameSetMatch building, I take a deep breath. "You ready?"

"I've got all the emails, the legalese Aaron's attorney gave us, a highlighted contract, and their Super Soulmate Simon. Battle ready is an understatement."

"I have a feeling they're not going to roll over easily." At this point, I'm not convinced they'll roll over at all.

"I'd be disappointed if they did." She glances at me before grabbing the handle to enter. "Game face on."

I swirl my hand over my face in an extravagant fashion. "Done." If only my insides would stop rioting. I've been trying to pretend Tayla didn't crush my last shred of hope in the hotel room earlier. A year in Scotland is a long time, but having her tell me the timeline is flexible by years is a knife to my heart.

We wait for the elevator in silence until Tayla turns to me. "I'll do most of the talking, but if I forget something, jump in."

"Sure, yeah." I nod and shove my hands into my pant pockets.

Will they even honor the appointment when they realize Tayla and I have shown up unexpectedly? There's a chance we won't get to talk to anyone. Though if that happens, Aaron's lawyer gave us a nice official sounding letter about legal action for false advertising and a bunch of other mumbo jumbo. Sounded good on paper. Don't have a clue what any of it means.

Tayla presses the button for GameSetMatch's floor, and the elevator rises. My palms begin to sweat, and I slide them along the sides of my jeans. Why am I nervous about confronting them for being the shittiest company in the world?

"Nervous?" Tayla glances at my hands and then meets my gaze for a beat.

"Is that weird?" Shouldn't I be energized to finally confront them? To tell them to go fuck themselves?

"They've popped into your life at random points for six years. I think I'd feel weird if I was you."

Except, now that she's said that, I'm wondering whether I'm really nervous about saying goodbye to her tomorrow morning. If the queasiness in my stomach is related to this being our last joint venture. Once we've confronted them, what tie do we have? One more night in a shared hotel room.

After that, an ocean between us.

The elevator chimes. We stand for an extra beat staring at each other while the doors slide open. My heart is in my throat, aching to be released one more time. Stay, Tay. Don't go.

"You can't look at me like that," she whispers. "You shouldn't look at me like that." She bites her lip and leaves me to exit the elevator behind her.

She's already at the reception desk when I make it through the main set of doors. Left me in the dust of my own longing. Probably deserve it.

I stop for a moment and take in the large reception area. Hearts hang from the ceiling like some high school dance gone wrong. All the photos littering the walls are happy couples, each with some sort of plaque below them. The urge to read through them seizes me, but I squash it. Are any of them real?

When I wander up behind Tayla who is already talking, the receptionist raises his eyebrows in question.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"We're here together." I gesture toward Tayla.

He gives me a baffled look and then transfers it to Tayla. "You're not here to be matched?"

"Oh." Tayla laughs lightly. "I've already been matched. But...so has he. Four times in fact. Can you imagine that?" She leans her elbows on the high counter and bats her eyes at him. "Why would a company that guarantees with a ninety-nine percent accuracy rate match anyone four times?"