Page 89 of The Dixon Rule

He snickers. “All right.”

“What about you?” I say, eager to change the subject. “Married life treating you okay? You’re not tired of Gisele yet?”

“Never.” His face softens anytime Gigi is mentioned. And whenever that raw, unconcealed love floods his face, it almost feels like you’re intruding. Like you’ve been given a window into an intensely personal thing that doesn’t belong to you.

But the dude simply can’t disguise his feelings for the woman, which is funny, because Luke Ryder is an expert at hiding his emotions. Since I’ve known him, I’ve never been a hundred percent sure where his head’s at. But there’s no uncertainty with Gigi. He adores her. Worships her. She’s his entire life and he would die for her. It’s telegraphed in his eyes the moment you say her name.

“But I’m really not excited about this wedding,” he admits in a pained voice.

“I’m sorry. But I got you, man. Whatever you need.”

He sighs. “Thanks, brother. I’m gonna need you to ply me with alcohol so I can forget about how many people will be there. Maybe rub my back while I puke.”

I laugh. “You’ll be fine.”

“Oh, hey. I forgot to ask you—do you want to help out at the Hockey Kings camp? It’s in a few weeks.”

“Oh, right. That’s in August. Which Harvard guy did they pick to coach with you?”

“Troy Talvo.”

“He’s good,” I say begrudgingly.

“The boys are playing a game on the last day and we need some linesmen. You in?”

“Will Garrett and Connelly be there?”

“It’s their camp.”

“Then yes.”

Chuckling, he rolls his eyes at me. “That’s the only way you’ll do it? Not out of the goodness of your heart?”

I grin at him. “I will ruthlessly pursue my own interests and I’ll never apologize for it.”

“Dude, Diana can do so much better than you.”

“Ha. Like Gigi earned herself a prince.”

“You’re probably right about that. They’re both way out of our leagues.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

DIANA

Vertical sex

I COME HOME FROM WORK ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON ALL PUMPED UP to rehearse with Shane, only to discover he’s still out golfing with Will. Ugh, such a spoiled brat. I know he likes to joke about being a rich boy, but this dude’s seriously living the dream. What other twenty-one-year-old has the luxury of spending his entire summer golfing and honing his physique?

While I wait for him to get back, I catch up on Fling or Forever, enthralled by an epic catfight between Faith and Ky. Donovan is still running a long con on Leni, and either I’m paranoid or this new chick Marissa is trying to sink her claws into the Connor. Girl, keep walking.

Around seven, Shane texts to say he’s ready, and we head downstairs. I’ve decided to hold our first rehearsal outside, since it’s such a perfect evening. Warm but not too hot, and breezy enough to cool the sweat. Meadow Hill has a tennis court, but I think it’ll be easier to practice on the grass, so Shane and I set up camp in a small clearing in front of the courts. I’m wearing little black booty shorts and a neon-orange sports bra, and I’ve come prepared with an external speaker, my laptop, and a tripod.

“How was your girls’ night with Gisele and Will?” Shane asks dryly, while I adjust the height of the tripod.

“It was fun. I’m meeting Gigi again tomorrow after my breakfast shift for a dress fitting and then she’s coming over for a swim.”

“Excellent. Make sure you both wear your skimpiest bikinis.”

---