Page 4 of The Valentine's Bet

“Dude, they’re fun. Just admit it. There are so many interesting people in the city, and you never know when you’ll stumble acrosssomeone you really hit it off with. You might find some girl in tech and fall head over heels.”

“Yeah, okay,” I snort, shaking my head. “You know what I usually find at these disastrous events? Girls who just want to hook up—and you know I’m not into that.”

“Neither am I, but it’s notthatcommon. I feel like most of them are looking for someone they connect with.” Weston wraps his coat a little tighter around himself, the tip of his nose reddening. “We all crave connection.”

I let out a sigh. “Well, I’m here, aren’t I? So, let’s just get this over with. I have to work tomorrow.” A sharp breeze blows as we get closer to Newson’s, which is just another hole-in-the-wall dive bar. Don’t get me wrong, I actually love the place...

But not on a night like this.

I stiffen as I see just how crowded the place is. We haven’t even made it inside and I canhearthe chatter of the patrons. My eyes drift over the exterior of the building as we reach the door. The brick is painted black, with gaudy Christmas decorations displayed in the windows.

It’s a travesty of a place, really.

“Put a smile on your face, Parker. You look like a grown-up emo kid.”

“Shut up,” I groan as Weston grabs the door handle and holds it open for me. Christmas music plays in the background and the tables are arranged in rows, with women on one side and men on the other.

Why am I doing this to myself?

Oh, that’s right. Because I made a drunken promise to Weston in college that I would always be his wingman.

No matter what.

Which he’s held me to. Every. Day. Since. Whether I like it or not...

“Dang, there aren’t any open chairs next to each other,” Weston says, sounding a little disappointed. “Guess we’re gonna have to do this one on our own.”

“Think I’ll just go home.” I spin around to face the door, but he stops me, grabbing my forearm.

“Don’t be a Scrooge.”

“Christmas is over,” I grunt before letting out a sigh. “But alright, fine. You owe me for this.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow or something. Now get a drink and go sit down.”

I do exactly as he says, grabbing a beer from the bartender and making my way to one of the empty chairs on the men’s side. I’ve done the speed dating thing with Weston before, and the only positive is that you don’t have to be with each date for very long.

“We’ll begin in two minutes,” the facilitator calls over the microphone.

“Whoo hoo!” a woman shrieks in excitement, and I whip my head in the direction of the sound. My eyes land on a petite brunette dressed in a black sweater and light-wash jeans. Her heart-shapedface is beaming, and the smile beneath her slender nose has me questioning the woman’s sanity...

And everyone else seems to be eyeing her in the same way.

As gorgeous as she is, she’s actingwaytoo excited for this.

“Hi, you can sit here.” A voice much closer cuts into my thoughts.

I look down to see a blonde wearing a name tag that saysBrendaon it.

“Okay, Brenda,” I reply, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. I grab the blank name tag on the table and consider writing a fake name but instead write outParkerin chunky letters.

The last thing I need is for someone to think I have a decent sense of humor.

My eyes drift back to the woman who’s over-the-top psyched, and she must feel my gaze on her because she suddenly looksrightat me.Man, talk about some eyes.Her baby blues are a light icy shade—and it takes me a hair too long to pull my gaze away.

But I do.

Because despite how stunning she is, I can already tell she’s a handful.

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