Page 107 of Plays Well With Others

“Yeah, it would have.”

She draws a deep breath, like she needs it for fuel. “I would have liked that.”

She doesn’t have to add ifI weren’t married then. Pretty sure we both know we’re talking about an alternate reality.

In this world, we both go quiet, her finishing the pancakes, me grabbing some plates. As I move through the familiar choreography of a Sunday morning, I enjoy the silence a little too much, imagining that alternate reality.

One where I’d have made different choices. Objectedbeforeher wedding. Acted on the feelings I was having but hadn’t named.

In that reality, she’d have been my date and I’d have saved her from heartache.

But our timing has always been a little off.

When she plates the pancakes, she asks with a tender sort of curiosity, "What are you thinking?”

The fact that she asks makes my heart thump harder.

“How good those pancakes look,” I say with a smile.

It’s true enough.

Even though she arches a playful brow. “Pancake fantasies?”

Well, yeah.

* * *

The next night, four alerts do the trick. Not only am I on time for dinner with Maddox and Zena, I am motherfucking early. My agent isn’t at the restaurant yet. First time for everything.

It’s Monday night and I wait at the bar for both of them. I’m so badass, I have to send my brother a text.

Carter: Guess what I did? I arrived early to a meeting.

Axel: Good. When I have my signing tomorrow night, will you come early to set up for me?

Carter: You wish.

Axel: Come on. You’re the nice brother.

Carter: Only because you set the bar so low.

Axel: Fuck you and your early arrivals.

Carter: Fuck you and your iron trap of a memory.

When Zena sweeps in a few seconds later, I type a hasty “gotta go,” and put the phone away. The Date Night founder looks like San Francisco tech royalty in casual jeans and a sweater, blending in with the crowd. Such a California billionaire. There’s not a speck of a designer label on her.

But there is nothing unassuming about her approach. She’s a tenacious woman who goes after what she wants. When she spots me, wheels are turning in her eyes already.

Bet she’s going to ask me for a favor. I can smell it like it’s her perfume.

She power-walks to my side and extends a hand. “So good to see you, Carter. I only wish I’d signed you up for more than five videos. Our customers are going wild for you two.”

She’s not the only one. I kind of wish I owed them more than five, too, then I’d have an excuse to spend more time on Rachel’s girlfriend lessons. There’s so much I could still teach her. In bed, out of bed. Hell, we haven’t gone on a bowling alley date. A proper dinner date. A workout date. An art gallery date. I haven’t walked in on her fucking herself with a toy either.

Shame.

Yeah, several more dates would rock. Maybe we could extend this whole thing…indefinitely.

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