Matteo

Milo's smile widens with interest when I tell him that my D&D character was a matchmaker. I try to stay calm and neutral, but I can feel the tips of my ears starting to burn. It feels like the temperature in the room just shot up and my palms are a sweaty mess.

“A matchmaker?” Milo asks, his eyebrows lifted.

“Yeah.” I laugh casually at the coincidence. “Seems meant to be, right?”

Shit, shit, shit! I mentally chastise myself. Matteo, you dumbass, why did you say that out loud? Why can’t you keep your thoughts to yourself? It seemed like a cute quip in my head, but when I hear the words in my own voice, I realize what a huge mistake I made. I might as well have jumped up and down on the couch and declared my love for this ridiculously hot person who I only spoke to for the first time today.

Despite my internal freak-out, Milo doesn’t seem to think twice about what I said. He just nods his head, considering this information as if I just told him my favorite color.

“You know what, that’s perfect,” Milo says. “It means you have to join our game on Friday nights. I’m about to start a brand-new campaign, and we need more people for this new world I’m going to set up—and obviously I can’t ask just anyone. I have the whole thing planned out. There will be a lot of portals and mazes and tons of surprises. It’s my best work yet. Trust me—you’ll love it.”

“I’m sure I will.” I nod, thrilled by the invitation since it means spending more time with Milo. “I would be honored to play a matchmaker in your world. Oh, wait…”

I pause for a second, wondering if I’m coming on a little too strong. The whole point of giving Milo the book secretly was so he wouldn’t find out how I feel about him, and now I’m standing here in his house, gushing about playing D&D. It feels a little obvious.

“Wait what?” Milo asks.

“It’s just…is a matchmaker needed in your campaign?” I ask. “I mean, I can come up with a whole new character if you want.”

“No, you don’t have to do that,” Milo says, shaking his head. “I want you to be exactly who you are—a matchmaker is great. And I’ve found that there is always a need for love in any story, which is why I am Mr. Matchmaker at school.”

“If you care so much about love, then why don’t you have a match?” I blurt out without thinking. Well done, really, I scold myself. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“I’m actually not sure.” Milo shrugs. “I have a knack for helping other people find love, but I’ve never been in love myself.”

I squint at him slightly, confused by this new information. Nothing about Milo is how I thought it would be.

“Have you ever had a crush on someone?” I ask, feeling the weight of every crush I’ve ever had, including the one standing in front of me.

“Not really,” Milo replies with a quick shake of his head. “I mean, kind of. Is that weird? I know that I would like to be in love one day, but I’ve never found a person that I’ve had any desire to fall in love with.”

He looks at me, tilting his head slightly.

“Does that make sense?”

I find myself nodding before I even realize that I understand exactly what Milo is talking about. I’ve always been so quick to attach the feeling of having a crush on someone to the feeling of falling in love, but I know that they are two very different things.

“I actually think that makes a lot of sense,” I tell him. “More sense than attaching feelings to someone you’ve never talked to before. And it’s not weird.”

I’ve now been talking to Milo for most of the afternoon, I tell myself before I can start to question whether I’m actually falling for him or if it’s just an impersonal attachment. I refuse to put what I’m feeling in this category of people that have useless crushes, and never do anything about them.

“My guess would be that a lot of people might be and think like you do,” I add. “They want to find someone who is worth loving. Someone worth the time and effort that it takes to get to know a person and fall in love with them, and not just some idea you might have of them. I think you voiced that really well.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Milo laughs. “The truth is that I’ve just read a lot of books and watched a lot of movies about all sorts of love—everything from Pride and Prejudice to Heartstopper, and all of those truly great love stories in between.”

He leans back against the counter, dreamy eyed and sexy as hell.

“I think love is the greatest story there is,” he says, glancing over at me shyly. “And as often as I find myself wanting to be in a relationship, I’m not in any rush to make it happen, definitely not unless it’s with the right person.”

Milo thinks for a moment, and I can tell that he’s really considering his words, not just blurting out whatever comes to his mind, as I tend to do. He picks up our empty snack plates and brings them around the counter to the sink, rinsing them off and putting them in the dishwasher.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he says, his smile oozing with seduction, “I’m no novice. I’ve dated around plenty, and I understand the game. I’ve been with people who are certainly deserving of a love story, but their story isn’t mine. Of course…I have a feeling that might change.”

“You think so?” I ask a little too eagerly. “Does that change have anything to do with your secret admirer?”

Please say yes, I think to myself. Please say yes.

“Actually, I’m not sure,” Milo replies thoughtfully. “It’s hard to know who a person is just by one book. It’s a first impression after all. And Elizabeth Bennet’s first impression of Mr. Darcy was very wrong.”

I can clearly picture Milo the first time I saw him, his nose buried in his science fiction novel, his back hunched in a way that I’m sure he would never sit had he known he was being watched. He was oblivious to the world around him, oblivious to my gaze. There was something about him in that moment that made me feel like I was looking in on his private world. His eyes danced across the page. His lips silently mouthed the dialogue. He was completely consumed in a way I’ve never seen him since then. That was the real Milo I got my first impression of, the same Milo who talks about Pride and Prejudice but has never been in love. Not the cool boy with the perfect hair and flawless complexion. Not Mr. Matchmaker who was always cognizant of who was watching him. He was someone else entirely—the same someone, I suspect, who he is on Friday nights with his Dungeons and Dragons crew. The person he is when he lets his guard down.

“I have to disagree,” I say to Milo, thinking about first impressions and Mr. Darcy. “Sometimes, if you’re really lucky, you see someone exactly as who they are. After all, Mr. Darcy saw the real Elizabeth; he just wouldn’t let himself love her because of his own pride.”

“Maybe,” Milo allows. “But I think situations like that are rare—making an accurate first impression that really tells you about the person you are meeting.”

“Think what you want, but I say it definitely happens,” I reply.

Milo smiles at me, as if amused by how sure and steadfast I am.

“Do you have a person in mind who made a first impression that you’re so sure of?” he asks.

“I do.” I nod, trying so hard to play it cool, even though I’m on fire inside.

“And are you going to tell me who it is?” Milo asks. “It would certainly help in my quest to find you a match.”

“I don’t think so,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m not ready to share that information, not just yet, at least.”

“Why’s that?” Milo asks, his eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion, or maybe it’s frustration. I haven’t unpacked all of his facial cues yet.

“We’re here to find out who your secret admirer is,” I point out. “Not who I like or don’t like.”

Milo’s face droops all the way into a frown, but I keep talking, not wanting to get hung up on this point.

“So, let’s get back on topic,” I tell him. “We need to scope out who is in this D&D group so we can figure out if any of them bought you the Dungeon Master’s Guide. How do we go about that?”

“We’ll start tonight,” Milo says confidently, his expression perking up again. “A lot of my group will be at the concert at the school—I think it’s time you meet them.”