Page 4 of The Dating Pact

Nate pumped his fist up and down. “Look at me. Two for two.”

Dylan leaned forward, catching my eyes. “It is possible to keep feelings out of it, if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, is it?” Nate mocked because Dylan and Evie’s whole relationship had begun with a supposedly no-strings-attached fling.

He palmed Nate’s face. “Before Gen, that’s what I did. Not saying you have to do that, but you could. If you wanted to. Lots of people are up for hooking up without commitment.”

“That’s what you want?” Liam asked, frowning skeptically.

“I couldn’t do, like, one-night stands. I think I would need to know a woman for a bit. Or not. I don’t know.”

Liam tilted his head side to side. “It’s not like you have to make a decision one way or the other. The point of dating is to see if you like the other person, right? No one’s saying you have to do anything or continue down any road. You could always try it and see what happens.”

Nate moved his hands up and down like weight scales. “Get laid or live like a monk. Get laid or live like a monk. Hmm?”

Liam ignored him. “Whatever you decide, we’re with you.”

Dylan nodded, and Nate smacked my back. “Right. So, you coming to the bar for a drink tonight?”

I shook my head. “Already have plans.”

“Hey, Finn,” Liam called, “watch what you’re doing.”

Dylan whistled through his teeth, waving down Amelia and Scarlett. “Girls. Share.”

Nate shoved another cookie into his mouth.

I took the time to slide my cell phone from my back pocket and opened my text thread with Brooke. I texted her.

We’re still on for tonight, right?

Brooke

Of course!

TWO

BROOKE

Having the guests bring presents unwrapped was really the way to go. Not only did it cut down on the partygoers being bored to tears, but it actually gave everyone a chance to see all the presents. Besides, there were better things to do than watch the bride-to-be unwrap each one. Like playing games and drinking the fancy cocktail I’d put together.

“This is the best shower!” Sabrina threw her arms around me, half drunk. So, okay, maybe the punch was a little strong. “You’re the best sister.”

I rubbed her back. “No, you’re the best.”

Kim butted in, wrapping her arms around both of us. “No, I’m the best.”

I laughed, squeezing each of my sisters in turn. I was the oldest at thirty-five and had dutifully and joyfully planned showers for both of them. We had an even four years between each of us, so at thirty-one, Kimmy had already had a bridal and a baby shower. Sabrina was the baby at twenty-seven, engaged to the guy she met on Tinder.

A fairy tale that started with a one-night stand who never left.

My fairy tale had never materialized. And it was fine.

I was fine.

Truly.

And I wasn’t jealous at all.

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