Page 35 of The Pinkie Pact

I could hear voices near me, but I was so focused, I didn't really want to look around too much. Occasionally, someone would come by and grab a full platter, quickly replacing it with a new empty one. Or someone would bring me another bowl of the batter just when I thought I was done.

It was kind of never-ending but fun also. And several hours later, when Delia came up to me and said everyone had raved about my pancakes, it was all worthwhile... although I hadn't really done much. Someone else had made the batter.

I started to clean up my mess, and Kara came over to help. "Looks like you had a fun job," she said.

"I did. That went by fast. It was such a blast."

"Yeah, it actually was."

"What'd you do?" I asked as I wiped the counter.

"I helped serve in the dining room." She leaned closer to whisper to me, "I think they like having a senator's kid on the front lines. You know, more publicity, more funding. They even took pictures."

"Pictures?"

"Yes," she groaned, pulling on a lock of her hair that had escaped her messy bun. "I was so not prepared for that."

I couldn't help laughing at her miserable tone. "Next time, we'll be more prepared."

"Yes, definitely," she agreed.

After we finished cleaning up with the rest of the crew, Delia thanked us profusely, saying she hoped we'd help again. I planned to make this a regular Saturday morning thing, and I told her that, making her flash a bright grin back at me before giving me a hug.

As Kara and I both crashed onto our beds a short time later, I smiled to myself. I had actually done something for someone else, and it felt amazing.

***

The rest of Saturday, we were too wiped out to do anything. But by Sunday evening, we were more than ready to head out and enjoy what was becoming my favorite night of the week.

I didn't know if it was the music, the vibe, Bear's presence, or the possibility of seeing a certain green-eyed guy, but I loved reggae night with a passion. And right when we walked in, my eyes immediately spotted Mr. Perfect at the bar. Minus Mrs. Perfect. Again.

"Hi, guys," he said as we walked up, his smile lighting up his ridiculously handsome face.

"Hey," I said, my heart galloping in my chest.

Kara didn't even bother to say hi, just squeezed past him to flag down a bartender as the band played a song I'd never heard before.

"Where's Christina?" she asked, still attempting to make eye contact with someone behind the bar.

"With her friends, watching that reality show again. I guess it's going to be a regular Sunday night thing." His eyes locked into mine as he said it, giving me a little spark of electricity. But that spark quickly died when he continued, sighing, "So she wanted me to ask you both if you'd come to dinner at our place sometime this week."

"Really? Why?" Kara asked, her voice full of exasperation.

"She just thinks it's my brotherly duty, and she's not going to give up anytime soon."

Kara ordered our drinks, Kieran and I both silent as the music sped up into a crescendo. I had no freaking clue what to say about this weird dinner idea, especially since I thought Christina hated us.

After Kara handed me a drink, she glared at Kieran. "And what if we refuse?"

He shrugged. "Your loss on a home-cooked meal."

Kara and I stared at each other, having a silent conversation. "I guess I'm okay with it if Sky's okay with it," she finally said.

"Sure. Why not?" I had to admit I was genuinely curious to see how and where they lived.

Kieran nodded, a small smile on his face. Did he actually want us to come over? "Great. Now we just have to figure out when."

"How about Thursday night? And Sky and I will bring dessert," Kara offered.

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