Page 65 of The Valentine's Bet

“My ankle is injured, not my arms.”

Parker chuckles. “Right.”

I duck away from him, gesturing to my purse. “Almost forgot my purse.”

“I’ll grab it for you.” He trots over to it, looking over his shoulder. “It’ll take you twice as long to limp back over here.”

“Ha ha.” I roll my eyes as he brings it to me and holds it out. “You know, I’m actually getting pretty fast in this thing.”

“Oh yeah? Shall we race, then?” His eyes dance over my face with amusement, and for a moment I catch myself wondering what it would be like if Parkeractuallyliked me. I imagine him grabbing my hand, leading me out of the apartment, and taking me out for the night... No dating games required.

I’m torturing myself.

“Let’s go.” I slip past him, chiding myself for my weak moment. Besides, there’s probably some greatnew guy waiting for me at the event...

Unless I somehow get matched with Parker.

My eyes shift upward as we ride the elevator down, and I start thinking about how surprised he’d be if we’re matched.He’d be pissed, probably.

“How was your day?” he asks, his eyes more green than blue tonight.

“It was fine,” I answer as we step out. He walks slowly beside me and opens the lobby door. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He holds out his arm. “Do you need extra support?”

“What?” I make a face.

“Your ankle?” He points to the boot. “I didn’t know if it would be helpful...”

“Right...” My voice trails off as I hesitantly slide my arm in his.

I realize welooklike a couple as we walk down the street.

But we’re just friends.

Chapter Twenty

Parker

“Okay! Let’s start the pairing process,” a thirty-something hipster in a fedora says over the microphone. My foot taps against the floor as I stand beside Amy, wondering if there’s some crazy chance that we’ll get paired. I mean, we’ve been paired before ... so itcouldhappen. And that would mean I could keep her away from douchebags—and win the bet.

Because that’s all this is...

A bet.

“Amy Gibson,” the guy says over the PA. My heart jumps right out of my chest at the sound of her name. My hands start sweating.

What’s wrong with me?

“You’re going to be paired with...” His voice trails off as he fumbles with the paper in his hands. I hold my breath. “Bradley Tubbs.”

My heart sinks to my stomach as Amy steps forward, not even looking back at me. I’m sure she’s got that same giddy smile on her face that she always does at these events, and I can’t help but size up the guy who steps forward to greet her.

He’sdefinitelyher type.

Tall, all business in a suit and tie. His jet-black hair is perfectly styled, and I’m pretty sure I look like a freaking rugrat in comparison. He extends his hand to her, and the two make their way to a table. My eyes follow them. Amy is already laughing at whatever the guy whispered in her ear before she sat down.

It makes me feel sick.

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