Page 55 of The Valentine's Bet

Her family looks picture-perfect. She’s the spitting image of her mom, although she definitely has her dad’s nose. They look like the kind of family you’d see on TV, and as I make it to the last picture, there’s a yellow sticky note attached to it.

Be safe in the Big Apple. We’re proud of you for chasing your dreams. XO Mom and Dad.

I don’t even know what to think about it, but the longing and grief inside the pit of my stomach is as painful as it is annoying.

“You’re still here?” The surprise in Amy’s voice is enough to rip my eyes away from the note.

“Yeah. You, uh, didn’t say whether or not you needed me to help you.” I give her a half smile, taking in the sight of Amy in her red flannel pj’s with a freshly washed face and hair in a messy bun.

And Ihatethat I like it.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she mumbles, looking past me to the pictures. “I’m kind of stuck in my head right now. I was just trying to figure out the logistics of getting to work with this.” She gestures to the boot. “It’s going to be a huge hassle.”

“Yeah ... you’ll also probably have to slow down on attending singles events.”

“Ha ha.” She narrows her eyes. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Uh...”

“You just want me to bestuckgoing to some jazz concert.”

Right, the bet. DUH.

“You know it,” I quip, feeling awkward. “But anyway, you need help getting in bed?”

“I’m not broken.”

“Ah, yeah, you’re right. Just missing a few screws,” I tease, rubbing my jaw. “I’ll get out of your hair and let you get to bed, then. If you want, I can drive you to work so you don’t have to take a cab every day.”

But why am I even offering this? I’d be late to work every freaking day.

She looks perplexed. “Wait, you own a car? I thought most people in this city didn’t own cars...”

“I do. And you’re right. I don’t drive it much. But it does come in handy sometimes.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll be okay. Thanks for tonight, though. It would’ve been so hard without you.”

I nod, hung up on what to say as I follow her to the door. “Anytime.”

Amy smiles up at me, and my mind starts giving me the idea to kiss her goodbye. But I ignore it.

“Have a good night, Amy.”

“You, too, Parker.”

And as the door shuts, I let out averyheavy breath.

Maybe I just need to get some sleep—and some space.

Chapter Seventeen

Amy

“Yousprainedyour ankle?!” Eliza’s eyes go wide on the other side of the phone. “Why didn’t you tell me? Is that why you’ve been MIA for almost two weeks?”

I stare at the calendar. January 23.I only have three weeks left to find a boyfriend before I’m stuck buying Parker tickets to a stupid jazz concert...

Even though I haven’t seen him in a while.

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