Page 46 of Sweet Twins For My Brother's Best Friend

Standing awkwardly, I look over at Lucy and Scott’s golden doodle. They do still seem to be having fun somehow. Their endless energy is remarkable, inspiring even.

“Yeah, but.” I check my phone and see the time, that hours have passed already.

“Well, I really do have to go. I have a life.”

“You saying I don’t have a life?”

“Well, I do see you here a lot,” I snicker at him, gently tapping my canvas with the pads of my thumb to make sure the paint is dry before I slide it back into my bag.

“Hm, well, maybe I’ll see you here again, then? For a play date? Our dogs are too in love for us to ignore it, don’t you think?”

“As long as it’s only a doggie play date.”

I hold my bag in front of me like a barrier, suddenly worried about how Chris might feel if he saw me talking to Scott like this.

Would he care? Would I want him to?

Scott crashes his hand into his chest and frowns dramatically, “You’re breaking my heart.”

“I’ll be back later in the week,” I tell him, slapping my hand against my thigh for Lucy to come back to me.

“Also, not to really rub it in, but you’re sitting on my blanket.” I point at the ground.

“Oh. Well, if I keep it, you’ll have a reason to come back. Like Cinderella.”

I roll my eyes, already tired of this flirting game.

“I have a reason to come back because of the dog park, Lover Boy. Give me back my blanket, please.”

“Fine.” Scott stands and picks up my blanket. He shakes the grass and dirt off, folds it, and hands it over to me. “Until then.”

“Bye, Scott,” I tell him, clipping the leash to Lucy’s collar and walking out.

Chapter Twenty

Christopher

I arrive just a few moments before Julie, as I want to see her reaction when she enters the restaurant and sees the space I chose, a cheap little chicken place despite its fancy name.

My leg jiggles as I watch the door. Finally, it opens, a bell tingling over her head, and she scans the room before settling her eyes on me. They narrow sarcastically and she waves from the door.

She crosses, the small heels of her shoes clacking on the floor. She sits down across from me and crosses her legs, a piece of her tan thigh flashing from under the table.

“Hey Chris,” she tells me, her voice bubbly as she suppresses a small smile. “Nice place, this. Interesting choice.”

“I thought it was what you deserved,” I respond, my eyes flitting to follow her movement as she tosses her hair to the back, exposing her neck.

I roll my eyes and clear my throat. I pick up the menu. “So. Fried chicken or grilled chicken?”

“How about we just make this quick? I can tell you don’t want to be here,” Julie smiles tightly, folding her fingers together.

“Sure, works for me. Go ahead.”

I drop the menu back on the tabletop, running my hand over the plastic sleeve.

“Hannah showed up at my brunch today.” She waves at a nearby waitress.

“Water please. With a plate of lemons on the side.”

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