Page 8 of I Could Be Yours

I like neat and orderly. I function better when everything is in the right place.

I ignore Flip. “Seriously, though. I’ve got the Plinko board.” I have an engineering degree. It should be straightforward.

“Okay, great!” Essie makes a note. “Oh! I almost forgot. I have something for you.”

I expect her to hand it to Rix, or literally anyone but me. It’s book shaped. “What is this for?”

“I saw it and thought of you.” She blinks up at me, all innocent-like.

“That was so nice of you,” Rix says.

“Thanks?” I peel the tape, careful not to rip the paper. My neck itches like it’s wrapped in a wool scarf because everyone is watching me. I frown as I read the title.A Guide to Happiness: 100 strategies for a happier, healthier you!

Flip barks out a laugh. Tristan snickers. Essie smiles, and Rix hides hers behind her drink. I bite the inside of my cheek as it heats. “Ha-ha, thanks.” I have nowhere to hide it, so I flip the book over and set it on the table between us.

Essie steers the conversation back to the stag and doe, and then it’s on to wedding-wear updates. “I’ve already stopped by the tuxedo shop to confirm that the handkerchiefs and ties match the bridesmaid dresses. And Nate has been for his fitting, so we are good to go there.”

“Isn’t that my job?”

“Mm-hmm.” Essie’s voice pitches up. “I emailed you about it, but I didn’t get a response, so I took care of it. You should have all the details if you want to follow up.”

“Right, yeah. You should probably just text instead of email.”

Essie’s smile turns wooden. “Okay. I can do that.”

By the end of dinner, my competitive side has been fully activated. Essie’s here with a fucking binder of information, taking over everything, and I look like a complete slacker—and a shitty brother and best man. It’s fucking on. Whatever games she has for this stag and doe, I’ll have better ones. And prizes. I work for one of the top sports-equipment companies in Canada. I should be able to score some awesome stuff.

Flip holds the door open for Essie as we leave the restaurant. I want to charley horse him when he leans in and whispers something that makes her laugh. The fuck is wrong with me?

“You okay, man? You seem…more tense than usual,” Tristan says quietly. “Work still super busy? You know Flip will help out with whatever you need.”

“Work is fine. Good, actually. And I can handle things. I just didn’t realize Essie was communicating everything through the email I don’t check very often,” I explain. “Once we switch to text, we’ll be good.”

“Okay. Cool. And thanks again for picking up Ess. It took the pressure off Bea.” He pats my back.

Essie waves and hops into the back of Rix’s SUV while Flip joins me in my car.

He reclines in the passenger seat and stares at me as I fasten my seat belt, check all my mirrors, and adjust the air. “What?”

“There’s a vibe between you and Essie.”

Of course he’s noticed. He’s irritatingly perceptive. “There’s no vibe between me and Essie.”

“The way you’re gripping the steering wheel tells me that’s a load of bullshit.” He nods toward my hands. “But if you’re not ready to talk about it, that’s fine.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

My phone buzzes in the holder, and the screen lights up with a new message.

“Who’s Cotton Candy?” Flip asks.

“No one.” I manage to grab it a split second before Flip. Thank fuck. He tries to steal it out of my hand, but I slide it into my pants pocket.

“No one, eh? Is that why your face is beet red and you look like you’re halfway between a heart attack and jizzing in your pants?”

“Leave it alone, Flip.”

He holds up his hands. “All right. Backing off.”

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