After sex this morning in yet another new position—let’s just say this cowgirl enthusiastically earned her “reverse spurs” this morning—I’m now sitting in a diner with Tyler and his five roommates, watching them scarf down enough eggs, pancakes, and bacon to feed at least fifteen people. Not even exaggerating.

“Okay, it’s official,” Tyler says, putting his coffee mug down with a thud. “Zooey Cartwright will laugh at anything.”

“No,” Aaron shoots back defensively. “Zooey Cartwright laughed because I’m a comedic genius.”

“That was the stupidest joke I’ve ever heard,” Tyler says.

“It was just too sophisticated for your feeble mind to comprehend, dude.”

Tyler laughs.

“Too many cheetahs,” Aaron says slowly by way of explanation. He’s repeating his punchline from a moment ago. “It’s why the animals were expelled from the zoo. Get it, Tyler? Because ‘cheetahs’ sounds like ‘cheaters.’ It’s a pun.”

“That’s pretty high-concept stuff, Heckerling.”

“I know. Don’t feel bad if it sailed right over your head, bro. You can’t help it if you were born with a tiny brain.”

I giggle again, every bit as much as I did when Aaron first told that stupid joke a minute ago. Only this time, I’m not laughing at Aaron, but at Tyler. Specifically, at the deadpan expression on his gorgeous face. At this point, Tyler could read his grocery list and I’d laugh.

Tyler turns his mocking wrath on me. “Is Aaron paying you to laugh at his stupid jokes, Zooey? Tell the truth.”

I shake my head. “It’s his delivery more than what he says. Aaron is just inherently funny.”

“Traitor!” Tyler barks at me, but his eyes are full of warmth. “Don’t encourage him, Zooey. Heckerling already thinks he’s the funniest guy on the team, even though we all know it’s me.”

“Ha!” Aaron says.

“It’s true. I’m way funnier than you,” Tyler insists. “In fact, I’m funnier than all of you lunkheads. Zooey’s only been laughing at your lame jokes all breakfast long because she’s from the Midwest and Midwestern girls are raised to be extra polite. Isn’t that right, Zooey? You’re just a sweet Midwestern girl who doesn’t want your new friends to feel bad they’re not as funny as me?”

“I genuinely think everyone’s hilarious. Especially Aaron.”

“Ha!” Aaron says. “I knew I liked you, Zooey Cartwright.”

“This is total bullshit and I can prove it,” Tyler says defiantly. “Okay, guys, here’s what we’re gonna do. Each of you has one minute to make Zooey Cartwright laugh. You succeed in your mission, I’ll give you ten bucks. You fail, Zooey will get the ten bucks, instead. With cash on the line, we ought to find out who here is ‘hilarious’ and who’s just being polite.”

“Why would you make that bet?” Aaron asks Tyler. “You’re on the paying end of it either way.”

“Some things are more valuable to me than money, son,” Tyler replies with mock solemnity. He turns to me. “You think you can bottle up that cute little giggle of yours long enough to earn yourself fifty bucks, giggler?”

I zip my mouth. “You’ll never hear my ‘cute little giggle’ again.” I’m telling the truth about that, by the way. God as my witness, wild horses couldn’t make me laugh for the next five minutes. I want that money.

Approximately three and a half minutes later…

“You suck,” Tyler says to me.

“I suck,” I agree, flapping my lips together. “I thought I’d be so much better at this.” I grasp the one measly ten-dollar bill I managed to win thanks to Hanalei and look around the table at Tyler’s other four roommates—all of whom are now triumphantly holding ten-dollar bills.

“How lame is Hanalei, though,” Aaron says. “If you can’t make Zooey Cartwright laugh, then you’re clearly as funny as paint drying.”

“Hanalei just took pity on me,” I say. I look at Hanalei. “You threw the game out of pity, didn’t you?”

“Nope, I’m a competitive bastard,” Hanalei replies in his deep baritone voice. “I’d never throw any game, no matter what.” But he winks at me, telling me I’ve guessed right.

“Okay, Tyler,” Aaron says. “Your turn now. But let’s make this a bit more interesting, shall we? I’ve got thirty bucks that says you can’t make Zooey Cartwright laugh within thirty seconds.”

“Thirty seconds? You all got a full minute.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got a huge advantage over all of us,” Aaron retorts. “You and Zooey haven’t stopped making googly eyes at each other since we sat down. Odds are high she’ll laugh her ass off if you so much as smile at the girl.”

I feel my cheeks coloring. Tyler and I have been making googly eyes at each other?

Aaron and Tyler haggle for a bit and finally reach agreement about the game.

“Okay, okay.” Tyler says. He snaps his fingers at me. “Zooey Cartwright! Pay attention! This is important stuff.”

I widen my eyes and give Tyler my exaggerated attention, and he chuckles at my expression.

“Okay, here’s the bet, little freshman. If you last thirty seconds without laughing at me—and good luck with that, by the way—you’ll get a twenty-dollar payday from Aaron. Plus, I’ll have to pay that bastard thirty bucks. Not a good result for me. But if I get you to laugh, then I’ll get thirty bucks from shit-for-brains over there, and you’ll get zippo. Preferred result.”

“When do I pay something?” I ask. “I don’t have any skin in the game.”

“You don’t need skin in the game. You’re Zooey Cartwright. Our reason for being. Plus, you’re ridiculously cute. That’s payment enough.” He winks. “Okay, are you ready, giggler?”

I shake out my arms and nod.

Hanalei holds up his phone set to the stopwatch function. “Thirty seconds starts in three, two, one, go.”

Tyler smiles at me. “Hi there, cutie.”

I force myself to keep a straight face. It’s not easy to do when Tyler’s turning on his charm full-throttle. “Hello.”

“I’ve got four words for you,” Tyler says. He counts them off with his fingers. “Where are Pooh’s pants?”

I press my lips together and stay strong.

Tyler leans forward and puts his muscled forearms on the table. “Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?” I reply dutifully.

“Wherefore means.”

I pause for a split second, trying to figure out where this joke is headed. “Wherefore means who?”

“No, Zooey Cartwright! Wherefore means why. How many times do I have to explain that to you?” He makes a face of complete exasperation that pulls an involuntary giggle from my throat. Damn it! It was just a little giggle, but it was unmistakable.

Immediately, everyone at the table explodes in protest.

“Collusion!” one guy yells.

“Damn you, Zooey Cartwright!” another one scolds.

“Are you suffering from Stockholm syndrome?” Aaron asks me. “Blink twice if you need us to save you, Zooey Cartwright!”

“Why do you guys keep calling me by my full name?” I ask, giggling even more.

Everyone ignores my question. They’re too wrapped up in the money changing hands to pay attention to me. While Aaron slumps forward, shaking his head, Tyler leans back in his chair with his winnings, laughing with glee.

“Why the hell did you laugh at that, Zooey Cartwright?” Aaron asks. “That was the stupidest joke ever.”

“Oh, and cheetahs being expelled from the zoo is so fucking clever?” Tyler says.

“It was collusion,” another one of the guys proclaims again. “Plain and simple.”

“It wasn’t collusion,” I insist. “Tyler made me laugh fair and square, guys.”

Everyone protests, yet again.

“He did,” I insist. “Tyler hit me with Shakespeare, guys. He knows I can’t resist Shakespeare.”

I’m lying, of course. Shakespeare isn’t what made me laugh. In truth, it wouldn’t have mattered what joke Tyler told in the end, I was going to laugh, regardless. Why? Because when I’m around Tyler, I feel like I’m sucking on nitrous oxide. Because Tyler willed me to laugh, and I can’t seem to resist giving him whatever he wants, no matter what it is or what’s at stake. The bare truth is that I didn’t laugh because Tyler Caldwell “hit me with Shakespeare.” I laughed because Tyler Caldwell hit me with Tyler Caldwell.