Page 70 of Single-Minded
“Emerson and I have known each other since we were kids, but from the time we got together until we were married was, shit, just over a month,” Ben said.
Knox laughed. “Six weeks for Quincy and me. When you know, you just know.”
“You fuckers are no help,” I said, shaking my head.
“What do you want help with?” Chance asked. “We’re definitely no help when it comes to not falling fast. Are you falling for this woman?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I’m just having fun.”
“If you’re afraid of falling, maybe play the field,” Luke suggested.
That was the worst idea ever.
“So none of you have a single tip for how to hook up with someone without trying to make it into more?” I asked.
As soon as I glanced around at their faces, I realized this was the wrong group for the question. They’d all fallen fast and hard. The thing was, I believed they’d all picked wisely.
Ben and Emerson? Meant to be.
Chance and Rowan? It was like fate matched them up.
Knox might be older than Quincy by a lot, but there was no denying they were perfect together.
And we’d all witnessed how goofy in love Max and Harper were at their wedding.
These guys had all found their person. I’d proven I couldn’t tell my person from a bad decision.
“I’ve got nothing,” Knox said. “Maybe just go with the flow and see where it ends up?”
“What do you have to lose?” Ben asked.
“If my girls get attached…” I scowled.
“Your girls don’t know about this hookup, do they?” Knox asked.
I shook my head.
“Then you’re fine,” Chance said. “Have some fun. Get your rocks off to your heart’s content. See where it goes.”
“If you leave me as the only single dad, I’ll kick your damn ass though,” Luke said.
I understood where he was coming from. “I have no intention of getting hitched, my friend. We singles’ll stick together.” I lifted my beer, and Luke tapped his bottle to mine. “Here’s to being single and carefree.”
“Keep telling yourselves that,” Chance said.
Luke snarled at him and looked back at me. “Your girls are in Nashville for the weekend?”
“They’ll be home tomorrow before bedtime,” I said.
“After these old married farts go home to their old ladies, let’s hit the bars.”
I laughed, but honestly that sounded a hell of a lot better than heading home to my hand and thoughts of Presley.
“You’re on.”
Chapter Nineteen
Presley
