Page 42 of Unforgettable

Adam chuckled as he filled up a reusable water bottle and tugged on his beanie. “Like hell is it none of my business. I need to know if you’re going to have those two in and out of your bedroom. At least give me a warning so I can wear my headphones to sleep or find another place to crash for the night. I’m not sure listening to my sister—”

“Adam, holy shit, enough! That’s not going to happen.”

He made another unimpressed noise. “So, it’s not good, then. Or…” He sucked in a breath. “You’re not saying you’re a virgin, right? Is that why it’s not going to happen, because you haven’t—ouch! Shit, Amanda. That hurt,” Adam griped when the apple I threw landed square in the center of his back. “You should really—”

“Uh-uh. Say something else about my sex life, and I’m throwing the fucking pineapple next,” I threatened, and Adam held up his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay,” he muttered as he grabbed his keys and water bottle. “All I’m saying is that you’re aware this isn’t going to end well, right? Whether you pick one of them or neither of them. So, you should be careful—look out for number one.”

He wrapped up his unsolicited advice with a kiss on the top of my head. I stood, still fuming, as the front door slammed shut behind him.

Frustrated, I sipped my coffee while still stewing in my anger. Being ambushed by my little brother about my sex and dating life was never something I wanted to experience, let alone before eight in the morning when I was off of work.

Hoping I could smooth things over with Hazel, I retrieved my phone from my bed to find seven missed calls and five new text messages from Hazel.

The woman was relentless, and as I contemplated what exactly I could tell her (because ignoring her wasn’t an option), another text came through with several exclamation points and expletives.

Most of her texts were asking various versions of the same question,What the fuck is going on?

And oh, how I wanted to give her an answer to that simple yet insanely complex question.

When the guys proposed the idea, I knew they were serious. I’d had a fleeting thought that maybe they were just joking, but it was just that, fleeting. And I’d considered several possibilities and outcomes, which included both the good and the bad: hearts could be broken, friendships could end, lives would likely be altered, and World War III could begin. And I understood that the dates would lend themselves to my ultimate decision but that our friendships would also prove to be the basis for any relationship that may begin.

And what I’d failed to consider in my moments of deliberation before the fact was that everything would change immediately. In my mind, I would have four dates and through those four dates, things may or may not progress and then we’d go from there. But I had four dates to get through before anything significant would happen.

My date with Reed had proven that my thinking was more wrong than I could ever imagine.

Everything was already different.

My phone vibrated in my hand once again, and I sighed before answering it.

“Hi,” I said quietly.

“Don’t ‘hi’ me!” Hazel bellowed over the line. “Are you dating both Josh and Reed?”

I sighed and prayed that I could get out of the conversation with as little explanation as possible.

“Technically, I guess I am.”

“Technically?” she questioned.

“Well, I’ve only had a date with Reed so far, and—”

“What?!” she screeched, and I pulled the phone from my ear, cringing in pain. “I thought y’all just slept together at the rehearsal dinner—that it was a one-off. That’s what I told Luke, too. You’re welcome for that, by the way. But start from the beginning and tell me everything.”

The excitement in her voice was genuine, and I started from the beginning—at their rehearsal dinner.

Hazel held all of her questions and thoughts until the end, thankfully, which made it somewhat easier to recount all of the details. And I had to admit that it was nice to confide in someone who knew the three of us fairly well.

“So, yeah. Tonight is my date with Josh, and it’s becoming very real, you know, the situation that we’re in.”

She was quiet for a long moment, so long that I peered at the phone to make sure she was still there.

“Hello?” I asked, and she cleared her throat.

“I’m here. I’m just… processing.”

My heart constricted, and nervous energy pumped through my veins. I knew it was likely that she would tell me that I was crazy, and she had every right to. But I didn’t need to hear what I already knew.

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