Page 30 of The Valentine's Bet

I pull my eyes away from the two of them, who are now deep in a technical conversation about things I don’t understand. I need to find someone to talk to. Weston is chatting it up with a group offourwomen, so I’m on my own.

But it’s fine.

I can do this.

Straightening my shoulders and smoothing out my hair, I step off to the side, making it seem like I’m just standing here all alone listening to the music. I take in the crowd around me, the laughter, the distant sound of a siren passing by. The evening is alive with energy and possibility.

I sip my hot chocolate, letting the warmth spread through me and calm my nerves, and begin swaying to the music. Though, I have to admit, Parker wasn’t all that wrong. The more I listen to the band, the more I’m maybe not so into it ... But it makes me look less pathetic if I’m doing something.

I watch the frontman behind the microphone. He looks ...cold.The wind whips through his shoulder-length dark hair, and the more I watch, the more I realize he has better hair than I do.

I wonder what conditioner he uses? And would it be weird to ask?

Laughtersounds from behind me, and I turn to see Gretchen and Parker, both of them bright and cheery. And I can’t even deny it, I feel ...jealous.

Ugh. It’s just because I want to find that kind of connection.

Disappointment and defeat funnel into my chest, and all the intrusive thoughts start to creep in. What if there’s just something wrong with me? I mean, I’m almostthirtyand I’ve nevereven been kissed.

That’s a little weird.

I’m an anomaly.

Andnota good one.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and spin around, expecting it to be Parker coming to torture me. But as I look up and see a pair of dark brown eyes, I’m taken aback.

“You look lonely,” the man says in a deep voice. His dark hair is styled perfectly and a red scarf is delicately wrapped around his neck. “I hate seeing lonely women.”

“Well, thanks,” I say, my mouth growing dry. This man ishot.Likeso dang hot. “I’m Amy.” I extend my hand, trying to be as smooth as Parker was with Gretchen.

He glances at my hand and then slowly takes it. “You’re very official, I see. That’s adorable.”

I smile, even though I wish he would’ve given me his name. “I guess I was just taught good manners.”

“Yeah? Do you always use good manners, or do you sometimes get a little crazy? You look like the kind of woman who could do both.”

I have no idea what the heck he means, but I shrug. “Sure.”

“I like that.” He flashes a grin, taking a step closer to me. “What do you think of the band?”

“Um, they’re okay,” I say, sipping my hot chocolate.

“The lead singer is my brother.”

My brows shoot up. “Really? That’s cool.” My eyes shift to mystery man’s hair and then back to the lead singer. It makes sense. They both have great hair. It’s probably genetics... Which means theirkidsshould have great hair...

“Yeah, he’s something else. He lived out in Los Angeles for the longest time, trying to make it out there, but then realized it wasn’t for him. He lives in my parents’ basement on the Upper West Side. So, don’t get your hopes up too much.”

I laugh. “No worries. I don’t think I’m into him.”

“No?” He frowns. “Would you be into his brother?”

“Maybe.” I feel my cheeks flush with heat. “I don’t even know his name.”

“Oh, yeah.” He bursts into laughter. “I guess that might be good for you to know. I’m Kenny, and my brother up there is David. Not that you really need to know his name, but yeah. Now you do.”

“Thanks, Kenny,” I say, giggling. “So, what do you do for work?”

---