Page 99 of The Dating Pact

I felt the hot splash of a tear on the back of my hand, realizing it came from Jude. I kissed his temple, his cheek, his mouth. “I always do the right thing,” he rasped. “I do everything I’m supposed to, and this one time, I want to be selfish… It feels like the universe doesn’t want me to be happy. It’s not fair.”

A spike drove through my heart because, no, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Mira had died. Or that he was a single dad. Or that his kids were young and didn’t understand love yet. At least not enough to know what their father would give up for them.

But this was the right thing to do, and Jude always did the right thing.

“I love you,” I told him.

“I know,” he said and kissed me.

“I’m not going anywhere. And we’ll talk every day. We’ll see each other at the market.”

He traced my mouth with his thumb. “School starts soon and?—”

I inhaled sharply when the idea hit me. “Did Seb make the team?”

Jude shook his head.

“Shit.”

“I’m sure that’s part of the reason he yelled at you. He didn’t mean it.”

“No. I know. I know. And it’s more of a reason for me to back off. He needs you more than I do right now.”

He wrapped a lock of my hair around his index finger. “I need you, though.”

I couldn’t answer him. Because I needed him too. Instead of telling him that, I held on to his wrist to kiss his palm then stood, tugging him up with me. He escorted me to my car with his hand on my back and opened the door for me.

“I love you,” he told me.

“I know.”

I stuck out my hand, smiling. “Friends?”

He smiled, smacking his palm against mine. “BFFs forever.”

I laughed despite the pain beneath my ribs. “The last F stands for forever.”

He shrugged. “Double forever. Infinity.”

“Double forever. Infinity,” I agreed.

TWENTY-SEVEN

JUDE

I’d been a kid when I’d met Mira. We fell in love as teenagers and learned about life together, grew up side by side into the adults we eventually became.

But what Brooke and I had was different—a friendship forged from the broken shards left in the wake of death and sickness. Funny that, in marriage, people promised to be together in sickness and in health, but it was the people who never promised me anything who showed up for me after that. Who picked me up when I needed it. Brooke was one of those people.

I hoped I was one of those people for her too.

We both had pasts. We had dents and flaws from lives that had, at times, been well-lived and, at others, brutally unfair. But we’d survived all that life had thrown at us, and didn’t we deserve to be happy in the end?

Didn’t we deserve to enjoy our peace?

Sitting next to Brooke as she’d suggested we take some time to slow down had felt like I’d been forced to swallow cough medicine. Or eat that godforsaken kale she told me was “actually really good.” Sure, it was good for me, would make me better, but that didn’t mean I wanted it. Didn’t mean I liked it.

I respected and admired her protective instincts that drove her to make a sacrifice for Sebastian’s and Amelia’s well-being—hell, I loved it. Because that was what made Brooke so perfect for me. She understood what it meant to be a parent.

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