Page 26 of The Valentine's Bet

“Thank you so much for everything,” Amy says to her, reaching out and squeezing Genna’s forearm. “You’ve given me hope, which is just what I needed after tonight. Here, let me give you my number so you can text me all the details. When is it?”

“Tomorrow.”

“I have plans tomorrow,” I say flatly.

She turns to me. “No, you don’t. I know for a fact that your only plan was to run that winter 5K. You told Derek that yesterday, so ... no excuses, Parker.”

Ugh.

“Come on, just go with me,” Amy urges. “Maybe Weston can sign up, too? Then you won’t just be stuck with me.”

“It has nothing to do with beingstuckwith you,” I say, running my fingers through my hair. “It’s just that ... I don’t really like going to singles events. I told him that I don’t want to go to them anymore—and hefinallyagreed to quit signing me up for them.”

“Okay, but maybe this is a sign that you shouldn’t give up on finding love just yet.” Amy shrugs.

“She might be right, you know.” Genna eyes me and then leaves tomake our coffees.

We sit in silence for a few moments, and I brace for whatever Amy might throw at me this time. She’s on another high over the thought of finding love—I can already tell.

Just when I thought I finally got through to her.

Ugh.

“You know...” Her voice trails off as she speaks, her eyes drifting to the window and then back to me. “Thank you for coming over here and talking to me. If you hadn’t, I most likely wouldn’t have found out about the singles event tomorrow—but also ... I was feeling pretty down. So, thanks.”

I nod, though I’m not sure what to say to her. “I don’t think you should get your hopes up about the Central Park thing. There’s usually a lot of people, and I can’t count the number of times I’ve gone and never talked to anyone.”

“Yeah, but you’reyou.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I lean back in my chair, taken aback. “I’m really not that bad.”

“No, but I have a good feeling you might put people off with your, um,love-hatingvibes.” She bursts into a fit of laughter afterward, apparently finding herself funny.

And for some reason, I can’t help but chuckle along. “I’m a realist.”

“It’s a fine line,” Amy says, grinning.

“What makes you so optimistic, anyway? You act like you’ve never been burned by love before.”

“Well—I ... I haven’t, really.” Amy’s expression turns solemn as she looks down at the table. Her fingers absentmindedly trace the rim of her coffee cup. “And I hate admitting this because it makes me sound so lame. But I’ve been so focused on my career that I haven’t really pursued dating seriously up until this point.”

“That’s not lame, Amy. It’s just a part of your story. At least you don’t have a trail of heartbreak behind you like some of us do,” I say, surprised at how easily the words slip out.

Amy looks up at me. “Do you have a lot of bad experiences with love?”

I pause, unsure if I want to delve into that territory with someone I barely know. But there’s something in her gaze that tugs at me.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” I finally answer, running a hand through my hair. “But it’s not something I like to dwell on. Let’s just say I’ve learned a few tough lessons along the way.”

Amy nods, her eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and empathy. “I get that. And I’m sorry you went through that.” She takes a sip of her coffee before continuing. “Maybe tomorrow will be a freshstart for both of us. I mean, I know I have a lot to learn ... but I reallyamlooking forward to finding a meaningful connection with someone.”

“Well, it’s not always as easy as romance novels and movies make it seem,” I caution, my tone more serious now. “Especially in this city. There are a lot of creeps out there who take advantage of people looking for love. You’ve gotta be careful.”

Wait, am I feeling ... protective?

Amy’s face falls slightly at my words, but she quickly recovers with a determined look. “I appreciate the warning, Parker. But I still believe in the goodness of people, and I refuse to let fear or a few bad experiences deter me from finding love. Anyway, I’ll be right back,” she says, sliding out of the chair. “I just need to run to the restroom.”

I nod and watch her as she goes. I mean, if I’m honest, she’s hardnotto watch—but that doesn’t mean anything. There are a lot of things that are hard not to watch, like pretty sunsets and the skyline from a penthouse.

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