Page 72 of The Bro Date
I lean down and seal my lips to my boyfriend’s.
He’s mine now. And I will do everything in my power to keep him happy and safe.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
TOBY
“Tonight is going to be so much fun!” I practically squeal, so excited that Shane agreed to cook for the dinner party that I’m planning for our friends. Every single one of them has been there for us in one way or another, and I’m excited to tell them that we’re officially dating now.
As in, we’re actually boyfriends.
Shane and me.
I still have to pinch myself when I think about it sometimes.
He’s cooking a three-course meal to celebrate, and tonight he’s featuring his favorite dishes from Coastal Cuisine. Spencer and Jake are upstairs getting ready, and Tate and Daija should be here any minute.
The doorbell suddenly rings, and I hop up from the island, where I was sitting and keeping Shane company. I offered to help, but he said he didn’t trust me with how sharp his knives are. “They’re here!” I announce to everyone and no one, scampering off to the front door and greeting two of my best friends with hugs and cheek kisses.
I usher them into the kitchen, where Shane is stirring the seafood risotto he’s cooking for his main dish. He gives themboth a silent nod, heading over to the wine rack. “I have red and white. Whichever you prefer. They both pair well with dinner.”
Tate and Daija look at each other and giggle, absolutely delighted by the white glove service. “We’ll take the chef’s recommendation,” Tate says with a wink and a big, flirty smile.
Shane doesn’t even flinch at the flirting, robotically pouring two glasses of red wine and handing them over. “If you all want to take a seat in the living room, I can bring out the appetizers when they’re ready,” Shane offers before going back to shucking a bowl of oysters covered in ice.
We follow the chef’s instructions, and I give him a quick kiss when everyone’s out of the kitchen. “Thank you for doing this,” I whisper before heading to the living room to entertain our guests.
Shortly after, Jake and Spencer come stampeding down the stairs in a wave of hair gel and cologne.
“’Sup, everybody,” Jake says, plopping down right next to Daija. “How are we doing on this fine evening?”
“Hey, Toby,” Spencer says sweetly. “Thanks for putting this together. I’m looking forward to dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” I beam. “Thanks for showing up.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Spencer takes the open spot next to Tate on the love seat, and I don’t miss the way Tate’s bright blue eyes eat him up.
“How are you, Tate?” Spencer asks kindly, clearly still worried about him after the encounter with Alex.
“I guess I’m okay,” Tate says with a shrug and a half-smile.
“You sure?” Spencer presses, placing his palm on Tate’s bare thigh and staring him directly in the eyes. “It’s okay if you’re not.”
Is something going on between them?
My eyes dart over to Daija, but she’s too busy being chatted up by Jake to notice what’s happening over here with Tate and Spencer.
“Yeah,” Tate breathes out, twirling a lock of hair around his finger. “Thank you for checking on me, though.”
“Good,” Spencer says with a satisfied nod. “Of course.”
Tate clears his throat awkwardly, which is something that doesn’t happen often. He’s never flustered by guys and never shy. I mean, we’re talking about the boy who wears sequin booty shorts and a leather harness on the regular.
“So, what’s the big news tonight, honey?” Tate asks, switching the focus to me. “Are you pregnant?”
My friends chuckle, and I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks. I know my face is bright red right now.
Ugh. Damnit, Tate.
