Page 2 of More Than a Good Friend

Of course he did. For every irritating thing he does, he matches it with something sweet. That’s why I’ve held onto hope for so long. Why I sat in dance halls while he twirled around the floor with other women. Why I hang out with him during scary movies because he doesn’t like to watch them alone. And why I’ve never told a soul that he’s bothered by the jump scares. Dag is a sweetheart of a guy wrapped in a multitude of flaws.

“Uh-oh, surprises?” I feign fear as I take the knife from Ava and cut a huge piece out of my cake. Why should I limit my cake intake just because there’s candy? I want cake, candy, and all the good things today. Turning thirty-five is a once-in-a-lifetime event.

For twenty years, ever since Dag and I made that stupid deal, I’ve waited for Dag to see me as more than a buddy. But it never happened. And I guess agreeing to be the one he settles for at thirty-five isn’t memorable because he’s never brought it up again. Not once. It stings, but it’s also motivational. I’m not going to settle. That’s not fair to either of us.

Besides, it’s not like he’s asking.

* * *

The piñata is strungup in the grassy area behind the mess hall, and we’ve all taken turns whapping at the colorful candy prison. It’s showing no signs of letting any candy escape.

I hand Dag the stick wrapped in colorful fringed tissue. “I’m tired of whacking at this thing. Break it open. I want candy.”

Grinning, he winks. “You got it.”

The piñata doesn’t stand a chance against Dag’s attack. One splintering hit sends candy and trinkets flying in all directions. Laughing, I fall to my knees and gather Smarties, tiny boxes of Nerds, and bite-size Kit-Kat bars. Both hands are full before I realize that no one else is picking up candy. Everyone is staring.

Dag taps my leg. “You’re on something.”

Great. I probably knelt on a chocolate bar and ruined my favorite pair of jeans.

When I shift, he picks up a diamond ring and drops to one knee. “Goldie, I didn’t forget. And a deal’s a deal. What do you say?”

I stare at the ring, wishing I could blink and make all of this go away. Except the candy. I’m definitely going to need the candy. And more cake. After a stretch of silence that has blown past uncomfortable and slammed right into completely awkward, I stand—not an easy task with two fistfuls of candy which I refuse to let go of—and brave a look at Dag. The sadness in his green eyes surprises me.

“I’m not going to settle.” The words might’ve only been in my head. I’m not sure because my wiring is all messed up. Tears are threatening to make this scene even more cringey, so I turn and walk away.

My cabin is just down the hill, not more than three quarters of a mile. If I can just hold my sobs until I get there, I’ll be golden, just like my stupid paper crown. My phone beeps and dings repeatedly as I march toward home. But checking my messages will only slow me down, and the dam won’t hold for long.

CHAPTER2

DAG

Stunned, I stare as Goldie walks away from her party. I’m not sure what’s worse, the shock of her answer or the sting of hearing her admit that she’d be settling for me. She is, in every way, a better person than I am, and ending up with me would be settling. But I never expected her to say it out loud.

Snapping out of my stupor, I jump to my feet and rush toward the path that leads to her place. Maybe what I said for the proposal wasn’t good. I’ll ask her about that. Mostly, I want to be sure we’re still friends.

Kent steps into my path and shakes his head. “Chasing after her isn’t a good idea.” He glances over his shoulder as Bluebonnet, Poppy, and the other wives head off in that direction.

Carrying two cakes, Ava walks out of the mess hall. She stops and gives me that disappointed-mom look. I’ve seen it hundreds of times, but until today, I never cared. Trouble has been my middle name since I could walk, and I owned it.

Proposing was supposed to be a good thing. I wasn’t trying to spark trouble. Shoot, I thought for sure she’d say yes. But she didn’t.

Rubbing my face, I try to erase the memory of the look in Goldie’s eyes. I’ve done stupid stuff and made her mad before, but hurt swirled in her gaze. And somehow, I caused it.

I trudge inside to the end of the long table and drop onto the bench. Several of the guys follow, and I appreciate that they’re here. Because I sure as heck don’t deserve any support right now. But maybe they can help me figure out where I went wrong.

Head buried in my arms, I finally break the long stretch of awkward silence. “I messed up, didn’t I?”

“Royally.” Parker pats my shoulder as he plops down beside me. “You can’t really be surprised that she didn’t accept.”

“I thought she would. But right now, I only care about her not hating me.” I slip the phone out of my pocket and show it to Kent. “I’m going to text her.” It’s not like I need his permission, but after that debacle, I feel like I should explain myself.

Me:Goldie, I’m sorry if I didn’t say the right thing. Are we still friends?

Tapping my fingers on the table, I stare at the screen, waiting for an answer. She’s probably letting the ladies into her cabin, so that might take a minute. But after five minutes without a response, I’m thinking up more explanations for why I haven’t gotten a reply, other than the obvious she-doesn’t-want-to-talk-to-me reason. They have cake, and typing while eating can be complicated. She’s deep in conversation and didn’t see the message pop up. This is plausible. I know how those ladies can talk.

Scratching my head, I look at my buddies. “What do I do? How do I fix this?”

---