Page 84 of Fallen Hearts

“Both hot?” Beck asked. He turned to me. “Sure you don’t want medium? Our hot is really hot.”

“Can I ask you a serious question?” I said. Beck was like a project I was determined to work on. He could be saved, potentially. Although I wouldn’t let my sisters or friends date him. “Would you ever ask a man if he wanted to downgrade his wings?”

“Downgrade. Interesting way to say it.”

“Seriously, though?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Beck looked at Mason, appealing to him.

“Don’t look at me,” Mason said. “I didn’t ask her to downgrade.”

Beck sighed. “Because I’ve never met a man who said, ‘Ooohhh, too hot.’”

I didn’t know if his extravagantly waving arms or terrible woman’s voice impression were worse.

“You’re gonna get it,” I said as Beck chuckled and walked away. “There is zero chance I can ever get him girlfriend-ready.”

Mason nearly spit out his beer. “Girlfriend-ready? You’re joking, right?”

I shrugged. “I like challenges.”

Mason shook his head. “Even if it weren’t for the pact…” He stopped.

Clearly Mason had said something he hadn’t meant to. “The pact?”

“It’s nothing. Just some stupid agreement we made in college.”

“Mason?”

He put his hand on my knee, rubbing my leg up and down suggestively.

“That’s not going to distract me.”

“No?”

I placed my hand on top of his. “No.”

Threading his fingers through mine, he exhaled. “It was originally Cole’s idea. As shitty as Beck’s parents’ relationship is…” At my expression, he added, “Ask him. Beck’s not shy about it. So anyways, at least everyone knows their marriage has been fucked two ways from Sunday. Cole’s parents’ marriage is worse for a lot of reasons, that he can tell you. Then you have Parker, whose parents have multiple divorces under their belt. And you know about my father, who pretty much never got over my mother’s death.”

A shadow crossed his expression at that last part. Whether he was thinking of his mom, or his dad, or the fact that his dad had never recovered from her death, I wasn’t sure. But the small hint of vulnerability was so out of character for Mason, I wanted to pull him toward me and squeeze.

“For one reason or another, none of us have a high opinion of the success rate of marriage. Cole decided we should make a pact. A ‘bachelor pact,’ he called it. We all tossed in 250 bucks. If anyone gets engaged, it’s another two fifty to the kitty. Marriage is 500. Last man standing gets the prize. But I have a feeling that money will rot since I don’t see some of the guys ever marrying.”

It was a lot to take in.

A bachelor pact. How sad.

“Do you?” I asked.

“See myself marrying?”

I tried not to look hopeful. Did I want to meet and marry the man of my dreams? Sure. Was that man Mason? It was way too soon for any such thoughts, so it didn’t matter what his answer was.

Or so I told myself.

---