Page 33 of The Valentine's Bet

She sighs, adjusting her black beanie. “I don’t need to fill a void. I just ... I don’t know. I guess I just want a boyfriend. I want to share Valentine’s Day with someone. It’s my favorite holiday, it’s my birthday, and I’ve never gotten to celebrate Valentine’s with a significant other before.”

“Well, I don’t mean to make you feel worse, but ... realistically, I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

Amy lets out a frustrated groan. “Yeah, you’renotmaking me feel any better.”

“Okay, okay,” I say calmly. “Sorry.”

“A lot can happen in two months, Parker. I’mgoingto have a boyfriend by then.” Her tone is as defiant as her expression, hardening under the streetlights.

And I can’t help myself. “Oh yeah? You wanna bet?”

She narrows her eyes at me. “You’re seriously mocking me right now, and it’s disgusting.”

“Not as disgusting as the guy you were talking to tonight,” I say matter-of-factly.

“You know what?Fine.Let’s bet on it.”

“Alright. I bet you can’t find a boyfriend in time for Valentine’s Day. But if I’m wrong, I’ll buy you those Band Allen concert tickets.Twoof them. One for you, and one for your boyfriend.”

“Deal, but you better start saving because those concert tickets are expensive.”

I laugh. “Don’t hold your breath. I doubt it’ll happen.”

“Well, I’mnotgiving up on love. Two months is plenty of time to fall in love. You just wait and see.”

I purse my lips. “Okay. But if you lose, you have to buymeconcert tickets to the jazz band I want to see on Valentine’s Day.”

She immediately agrees. “Okay, perfect. And if you need someone to go with, I’ll even torture myself with listening to jazz music for you.”

I raise a brow. “But you like jazz music.”

“Not with you,” she fires back, huffing like a little kid.

I fight not to smile. “Okay, Amy. Whatever you say. Come on.”

Her shoulders and chin stay up as she resumes stalking toward her apartment building. “You’re going to be sulking when you have to buy me and myboyfriendthose concert tickets.”

“Uh, huh.” I laugh, trotting to catch up with her. For a petite little thing, she can really move. “Keep dreaming.”

“Thanks, I will. I refuse to let someone likeyoukill all my dreams.” She glares at me, folding her arms across her chest. “You’re literally so bitter—a fun sponge, really. I don’t understand how you have so many friends.”

“What an insult,” I quip, unable to take her seriously. “I’m really not that bitter. I’m actually quite happywith myself and who I am—I don’t need someone else in the picture. I’ve seen love go wrong too many times. It’s not worth the trouble.”

She doesn’t say anything to that, and we make the rest of the walk to her apartment building in silence. She stops just outside the door, her expression shifting as she glances around.

“What?” I ask, looking around, too.

“I ... Do you ...ugh.”

“You good?”

“I’m ... um ... do you think that guy might’ve actually followed us?”

I blink a couple of times and then sigh when I realize I scared her. “Oh ... no, I don’t think so.” I glance around to be sure, scanning the faces on the street. New York is busy right now and full of tourists who have decided to spend the holidays here.

“Could you ... could you walk me up?” Her question makes my heart flip, and I blame the cold—or something.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I can walk you up,” I say, giving her a half-smile. “Let’s go.” I grab the door and pull it open for her. She slips through, flashing me a sheepish smile. I follow her to the elevator, feeling guilty for freaking her out.

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