Page 28 of The Pocket Pair

“I know you’re not blind, Tiny. It’s a mullet.”

“He just needs a trim and—”

“Mullet.”

That earns me a smile I feel all the way down in the soles of my feet. Basking in her smile is like getting drunk on sunshine. Val gives me a playful shove.

“Be nice, Chevy. Do I need to get started on your exes?”

Definitely not. “They can’t be exes if we were never in a relationship. And no. I’d rather not.”

I don’t want to make too much of this. Nor do I want to compile a list of what I did and did not do with my dates. But I also don’t like Val believing the reputation I’ve earned for myself. Especially since it’s not altogether accurate.

“Hey,” I say softly. Earnestly. “I’m not some Leonardo DiCaprio, trying to sleep my way through the world. That’s not who I am. Okay?”

She nods, her features softening. “I know, Chev.” There’s a long pause, and Val glances at the bar. “Anyway. Better see why Wolf wanted me to come in.”

Picking up her phone, Val pats my shoulder and makes her way over to Wolf. I keep one eye on the two of them but can’t miss the grin on Grant’s face.

“I was gonna ask for her number, but it seems like she’s already been claimed,” he says. “How long have you been in love with her?”

A vehement protest is rising in my throat when the door to the bar slams open, hitting the metal wall and breaking off one hinge so it hangs crookedly. And there in the doorway stands Jaxon. Lover of mullets and the letter X.

He stumbles inside the bar, unsteady and a little bleary-eyed. In his hand is a bunch of flowers that look like he plucked them straight from the field outside. And one bunch of leaves looks a whole lot like poison ivy.

“Valllllllllllll,” he croons, and if all the heads hadn’t already swiveled in his direction, they would now.

“Let me guess,” Grant says. “That’s Jaxon? With an X?”

“Let’s call him by his real name,” I say. “Mullet.” I stand, already moving toward Val, who’s frozen at the bar.

I beat Jaxon to her, which isn’t hard considering the man smells like a distillery. Val looks up at me with wide eyes. “I didn’t tell him where I was,” she hisses. “And I definitely didn’t tell him to come.”

“I’ve got you,” I tell her, and when Mullet is only two steps away, I slide both arms around Val’s waist and pull her flush against my chest. Immediately, she relaxes into me with a sigh, like this is where she’s always belonged and she’s been waiting her entire life for this moment. My heart thudding like a jackhammer, I lean down, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Just play along, sweetheart.”

She shivers, and I take that as a yes.

Best or worst idea I’ve ever had? Unsure. Ask again later.

Mullet stops a few feet away, so fast he almost falls forward on his face. His hand falls, the flowers and poison ivy sagging. “Val,” he whispers. “You moved on?”

I tighten my grip, pulling Val a fraction closer. Then I nuzzle her hair. She smells like spun sugar and summer, and I’m the one who needs a reminder to just play along. Pretend. Not real.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “You always said you didn’t want to be exclusive. It just kind of happened.”

Mullet’s eyes go wild for a moment, and I tense. Grant stands, giving me a nod, and I know he’s thinking this can go a few ways. One of them might include a jealous rage and drunken attempt at a brawl. But Mullet goes the other way. His face crumples and he lets out a broken sob.

“But I only dated like three other people when we were together,” he pleads, and I’d really, really hate the man if he weren’t so pitiful.

Val stiffens against me, and I slide one hand up to grab her hand, twining her fingers with mine. “You were actually dating other women?”

He nods. “But it was always you. I knew it would always be you, Valentina.”

Someone snorts. I think it’s Wolf.

“I’m sorry, Jaxon. It’s not gonna be me.”

“Is it because of him?” Jaxon eyes me, sizing me up and clearly finding me lacking.

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