Page 87 of Personal Foul

Wiping his eyes, he regains control of himself and sits up. “Is this really the kind of thing you do with your friends? Maybe we should invite some of your friends over sometime if that’s the case.”

Eyes narrowed, I grab the pillow again and toss it at his face. “No,” I balk. “I don’t do this kind of thing with any other of my friends. And no, we’re definitely not inviting any of them over for an orgy.” He’s still laughing. And if anything, my defense only makes him laugh harder. “But there is such a thing as friends with benefits, you know.”

For some reason, that sobers him up. He picks up the pillow I threw at him and pulls it into his lap, studying me. “Is that all you want? Friends with benefits?”

I spread my hands again. “I don’t know. I don’t know what you want. Part of me is still waiting for this to all go wrong somehow.”

His brows draw together, and he opens his mouth, drawing in a breath, but then he looks away and shakes his head. Like he’s at a loss. He looks at me again, his hands resting on his lap. “I realize it’s a lot to expect for you to let go of so much hurt that I caused so quickly. So I shouldn’t be surprised when you say things like that. I want more than friends with benefits and not so I can screw you over in the end. I just like you, Charity. I want to be with you. And I want you to come with me to my sister’s engagement party. It’s likely going to be boring and stuffy, and you’ll have to deal with my parents and their political friends. The only reason I want to go at all is to help my sister celebrate. If I didn’t have a plus one, I would happily spare you the displeasure of going. But I do think you’ll make it more bearable for me.”

He holds up his hands, palms out. “I’m not saying that so that you’ll go just to make me happy. I realize I’m doing a terrible job of selling this, of selling me, but that’s the most thorough answer I can give you. I have to go. I’m expected to bring a date. I’d love for that date to be you. But if you say no, I’ll completely understand.”

I deflate a little in the wake of that speech. My eyebrows draw together as I contemplate all of the nuances behind what he just said. “So, wait. Hold on a second. Are you saying that you want us to date for real? No more of this fake relationship crap? And not just friends or even friends with benefits?”

Chuckling, he shakes his head. “No more fake relationship crap. Not friends with benefits. Dating. Like, I would introduce you to people as my girlfriend. And you can tell your sister that I’m your boyfriend.”

“And a girlfriend would go with her boyfriend to his sister’s engagement party, even if it’s stuffy and boring and filled with Seattle high society.”

He nods. “Generally, yes. I’d say that’s true.”

I cut my eyes to the side. “I’ll need something to wear.”

“That’s true,” he says slowly.

“My account is still frozen.”

A smile spreads across his face. “Does that mean you need me to take you shopping?”

I lift one shoulder. “Only if you want me to look like I belong at that party. I know how important the right clothes are in those circles.”

His smile grows even wider. “I guess that means we’re going shopping this weekend.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Dylan

Victoria picks up on the second ring. “Hey, little brother. I’m usually the one calling you. Should I be concerned? Please don’t tell me you can’t find a date for my engagement party. It’s next week. You better have that on lock.”

“I’ve got it covered,” I say through my laughter. “That’s actually part of the reason I’m calling though. She needs to get a dress this weekend, and I wanted to make sure that she got something appropriate. Can you send me links to some of your favorite designers?”

“I mean, I can. But it’s not like you’ll be able to find them over there.”

Grinning, I shake my head. “I realize that you think I live in BFE, but it’s really not that bad. And even if we can’t find your specific favorites, we can use those as a jumping-off point to find her something that will work.”

Victoria sighs, and I hear clicking and tapping on the other end of the phone. “Alright, I just sent you an email with links to what I’m wearing, what Mom is wearing, what Mindy is wearing, and a few other things I looked at but didn’t get. I can’t believe you’re waiting until the last minute though. Shouldn’t you have gotten this taken care of weeks ago?”

“Since she just said yes to coming with me last night, we couldn’t really have taken care of it weeks ago.”

“Oh my god, Dylan. You’re killing me! Why didyouwait until the last minute to find a date?”

“Oh my god, Victoria,” I mimic. “You really want me to just bring some random chick? Or would you rather I bring someone I actually care about?”

Something bangs on her end. “Wait, what? I did expect you to bring some random chick, actually. Although, I guess if you’re calling for fashion advice, that means you do actually care about this girl. Because if it was just some random chick we’d never see again, it wouldn’t matter what she wore as long as it was more stylish than a flour sack. Alright. I’m officially on break. Tell me everything.”

“Uh, I don’t think I’m going to tell youeverything, Tori.”

“Gross, Dylan. Please don’t tell me about your sex life. But give me all the important details. Where’d you meet her? How long have you been seeing her? How serious is it? I’m guessing since you just asked her to my engagement party last night, it can’t have been going on that long. But you did ask her to my engagement party, which means she’ll be meeting our whole family. Plus you want to make sure she has a killer dress so no one can criticize her, so that all seems like it might be getting serious. Am I on the right track?”

How much should I tell my sister? She’s always been my biggest supporter, no matter what. Not that my parents aren’t supportive, but they definitely have specific ideas about the way my life should go. Tori has always told me that I should do what I want, that I need to figure out what makes me happy regardless of what Mom and Dad think. I know she’s still not totally convinced that I actually want to go to law school. And honestly, if I hadn’t been pushed down this path since birth, maybe I wouldn’t want to. Maybe I’d pursue football professionally. Or painting. Who knows what my life could’ve been if I’d been allowed to choose all my interests and extracurricular activities? I could’ve been an actor. Or a sculptor. Or a bum.

---