Page 59 of The Player + The Pact = I Do

Sophia and I both laugh at Natasha who’s clearly a little tipsy already.

I haven’t met Leo’s friends, but I’m guessing they don’thave conversations like that. I feel a pang of longing and wonder what he’s doing right now—whether he’s with his friends. I wonder what they’re like, whether I’ll like them as much as I like him, and whether they’ll like me.

“You’re probably right,” Sophia replies. “I just live in hope that I can find someone half decent in this town.” She turns to me, her expression serious. “I know that we’re joking around, but I’m honestly really happy for you.” Her voice breaks. “I’ll miss you, that’s all.”

I put my arm around her, my stomach tightening at the idea that I’m upsetting her for nothing because it’s all a lie. “Hey, I’m not emigrating. I’ll just be over the river and across the street.”

She nods, pasting on a fake smile that doesn’t quite hide the disappointment in her eyes. “Let’s have some fun tonight.” She pulls out her phone. “Let’s get a picture. You can send it to Leo to let him know you’re having fun.”

I hope the wince I feel isn’t translated into my expression in the photo. Leo and I have never texted unless it’s purposeful—directions to New River, timing for dinner, that kind of thing. I don’t know how I feel about sending him a text just because.

Natasha gets up and comes to stand on the other side of me, so I’m in the middle. Sophia holds out the phone, and before I know it, we’re striking poses and taking selfies like we’re seventeen again.

Sophia flips through the options. “This one is definitely the best.”

My phone bleeps immediately and I bring up the photo.

I look ridiculous in the fake bridal tiara. What the hell was I thinking?

“Send it to him. You look hot.”

I shake my head. “No, I’ll show him later,” I say.

“You have to send it!” Sophia says.

Natasha pulls the phone from my hand. “Why wouldn’t you send it? You look hot as fuck.”

“My point exactly,” Sophia says.

I glance up and they’re both looking at me. What do I do? If I refuse to send my fiancé a picture of me dressed up in a fake tiara, they’re going to think there’s something wrong with me. If I send it, Leo will think there’s something wrong with me. This is a lose-lose situation.

“Go on,” Sophia says.

I relent, bringing up my chat with Leo and dropping the picture before turning my phone facedown on the table.

We order another round of shots. Sophia tells us about her first post-Jamie date with a guy who’s an actor—not a famous one. He’s trying to “make it” and Sophia can’t decide whether he’s worth all the time she spends analyzing him. My vote ishard no, but I’m not going to say that at the moment. She’s still too into him. My phone vibrates and I feel it in my thighs. I know without checking that it’s Leo.

I wait until Sophia and Natasha are elbow-deep analyzing this new guy’s refusal to see Sophia more than once a week. If they were sleeping together, a once-a-week thing would mean he was trying to keep it casual, but they’re not having sex yet. Whatever game he’s playing, it’s not worth Sophia’s time. She needs to look for someone who cares about her. Someone who’s thoughtful.

Someone who comes down in the elevator twenty floors so you don’t have to ride up on your own. Someone who brings you lunch because you left before breakfast. Someone who deflects your dad’s attention away from you when it’s too much to handle.

While they’re both busy, I slide my phone offthe table and take a look.

Hot

It’s all Leo writes, but afterward, he sends a picture of a half-eaten bowl of mac and cheese.

I smile to myself when the three dots on-screen tell me he’s typing. I suck in a breath, waiting for his follow-up.

Doesn’t taste as good as you.

My blush starts at my toes and ends at the tips of my ears.

TWENTY

Jules

I have a thousand busy construction workers in my brain, trying to force their way out using pneumatic drills and pickaxes. I’m wearing my eye mask, but it still feels like someone’s poking needles of light into my eyeballs.

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