Page 15 of From Fling to Ring

“I’ve got it,” Rake says, snapping his fingers.

It’s gonna be stupid, I know it.

“The loser, or losers, given we’re two against one here, even though I’m pretty sure I know who the loser will be”—he raises an eyebrow at me—“has to take a lesson from one of the figure skaters training in the rink, then skate in front of the fans in a skating dress.”

That’s hard core.

But I like it.

“I’m in,” I say. “Rake, you will be adorable in a pink skater dress and Jonas in baby blue. Can’t wait,” I say, rubbing my palms together and trying not to think of the fucked-up thing I just signed up for.

Regardless, this will be a slam dunk, and these jerks are going to be sorry they ever doubted my dating expertise. Just because I don’t date women for long doesn’t mean I can’t, for fuck’s sake.

Rake holds up his hand so Jonas doesn’t leave just yet. “That’s not all. If, for some miraculous reason you do manage to date her for ninety days, no going and falling in love because, you know you’ll have to break things off.”

Fall in love? Like that would ever happen to me.

6

TYLER

“Lucy, nice to see you again,” I say, standing while she takes the seat opposite me in my neighborhood coffee shop.

She glances up from rooting around in her backpack. “Yeah. Good to see you again too.”

Ouch.

I try again.

“I’m glad I could help you with this interview. I wasn’t sure I was going to get permission to do it. Anytime we speak to the press, we go through our PR guy.”

Is SF Freekly really considered ‘the press’? I decide not to ask.

“Uh-huh,” she says, pulling a pad of paper out of the depths of her bag and finally looking up at me.

Her disinterest aside, she really is quite lovely with short, bouncy blonde hair and big brown eyes. She’s a little thing, I remember from the team party, and even sitting down, she still has to look up to me.

So I slouch a bit.

I’m not above working this shit.

“Lucy, I understand you’re from San Francisco. I don’t meet many natives. Seems like everyone here has come from someplace else. Like me.”

Looking at me for a moment, she nods and sets her pad down.

Okay. Conversation underway.

I’m not the best small-talker, not by a long shot, but this woman isn’t winning any awards for her chatting skills either.

“I did grow up here, with Petal and our other friend Gilly.”

“How’d you meet? In school?” I ask.

“We went to kindergarten together. But after that, we all went to different schools.”

“How’d you guys remain friends if you weren’t at the same school? Were you neighbors or something?”

Fuck, that’s a boring question. I need to step it up before I put this woman to sleep.

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