Page 92 of How to Win the Girl

daisy

That awkward moment you’re the friend always giving relationship advice but who’s always single.

“Pay up.”He snaps his fingers in my direction. “I knew he was going to come out of his room.”

Drew can barely wait for me to walk through the door before ambushing me.

“You didn’t technically win. And he didn’t come out of his room. He stayed in the doorway.”

“So? I was more right than you were—you said he wasn’t goin’ to bother openin’ the door at all.”

Goin’.

Openin’.

I cannot with their Southern accents.

Drew is holding out his hand as if he were looking for a hand-out.

I smack it like I’m low-fiving him. “What’s your palm doing out? We never laid out the terms of our bet.”

Ha!

“Dammit!” He laughs, lowering it. “Fine. Next time then.”

My eyes roll. “Sure, next time.”

Drew sighs, taking his place back in the desk chair, careful to maintain a distance, leaving me with the bed all to myself, though it’s big enough that if he wanted a comfy place to sit, there would be plenty of space for both of us.

“I can’t believe you told him we were playin’ truth or dare with oils.”

“Dude.” I laugh. “He looked appalled.” If I had my phone or a camera, it would have been the perfect time to take his picture.

“What else did he say?”

“Nothing. Mostly just grunted.”

“He was not gruntin’.” Drew laughs.

“Well, he wasn’t speaking in complete sentences, and he was annoyed. I don’t think he wants me to be here.”

“Pfft.” He scoffs. “That’s bullshit—he’s actin like a tool because he’s freakin out and doesn’t know how to behave.”

“I don’t know. He seemed indifferent.”

“Trust me, my brother is the master at faking shit.”

My brows rise. “That’s not a ringing endorsement, you know, faking shit. I’d rather have someone who was honest and who—”

“That’s not what I meant,” Drew interrupts. “Sorry for interruptin’ ’cause I know how it looks, but seriously. My brother isn’t a liar. For real, I still can’t believe he did this to me. To us.”

Guess I’ll have to take his word for it. “So now what do we do?”

I don’t want to stay holed up in this room all night. I have things to do and would rather be home in the leggings that have holes in the crotch and my extra-large crewneck; not this outfit thrown together so I would look cute but not like I was trying too hard.

At least this was a good distraction.

Because if we’re being honest with each other, I’d been falling for the guy I thought was Drew Colter—not the actual version of him, which is all fine and good. He’s a nice dude, just not…

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